“I know a guy,” he said, sounding a lot more sure of himself now. “I think you’ll enjoy it.”
They went through a tiny office and a nursery of sorts, where little trees were propped up in posts with sticks and twine. “This is where they start seedlings,” he said, pointing at one group of pots. The trees were barely eight inches high. “Those are from a historic pecan in the park. They’re trying to replicate it.”
He went to a small fridge in the corner that she hadn’t noticed and pulled a shopping bag out. She frowned. “We’re not here to steal plants, are we?”
He laughed, and it changed his whole face. He looked younger, vulnerable. “I promised you dinner, remember?”
She stared down at her shoes. When would she ever figure out how to talk to him? Probably right after they graduated and she never saw him again. “Right.”
He came over and took her hand. It was warm in hers, and she realized she’d been missing it since he let go in the car. “Now for the surprise.”
She followed him into the main greenhouse, warm and humid after the cool spring night. Exotic plants bloomed everywhere she looked, a riot of pinks, reds, oranges, and purples. The air hung heavy with the scent of earth and green things growing. Faith took a deep breath. Underneath the smell of gardening soil, a dozen different perfumes tickled her nose.
“Wow,” she whispered.
“You’ve never been here, have you?” Kyle’s eyes sparkled, and he seemed pleased by her reaction.
“No. I missed the field trip in third grade.” She turned, taking it all in. “It’s beautiful.”
“This isn’t even the best part.” He squeezed her hand, and heat climbed the back of her neck. “Over here.”
“Over here” turned out to be a small lawn lining a huge bed of azaleas in spring colors of pink, lavender, and white. A white blanket was spread out on the grass next to a picnic basket.
A whole host of butterflies took flight in her stomach. “How did you do all this?”
“Like I said, I know a guy.” Kyle’s cocky smile was back. “Well, more than one.”
Faith sank down on the blanket and crossed her legs, wishing, for once, that they weren’t so long. She wasn’t used to being self-conscious, but something about Kyle made it all too easy. Like it was important to impress him, and wondering if she was good enough. “I love it.”
He set the bag down and knelt to dig through it. “Good.” The look he shot her was intense. “You deserve to have someone try to impress you.”
She ducked her head, not sure what to think, having just wondered how to impress him. Seems like they were both trying too hard. “Not more than any other girl.”
“True. Most girls deserve it, but it never happens.” His voice was soft. “Which is why it’s your turn.”
“With you?” she asked, teasing. “Why, Kyle, I’m shocked.”
He flushed. “That’s, um, not exactly what I meant.”
“It’s okay. I know you’ve dated a lot of girls. And I am impressed.” She reached out to brush a pink azalea petal with her fingertip, not sure what to think. Was she really special to him, or was this his way of pulling her into the Kyle Sawyer Mile-High Club? “But you don’t have to make this kind of effort just for my sake. I know what the score is.”
He turned away, unpacking little sandwiches, strawberries, and cookies from the bag. “And what’s the score?”
She took a deep breath. This felt like a date, but she needed to know before she let herself believe it. “That we’re in this scheme together. You don’t have to pretend to be my boyfriend except when we need to put on a show. Isn’t that what this is?” There, she’d said it. She wished she could take it back.
But she really wanted an answer
Chapter Twenty-One
Kyle
Faith’s question felt like a fastball to the chest—crushing and knocking the wind out of him. He was trying so hard, and she thought he was playing a game? God, he just couldn’t win. But he’d promised himself—and Grandpa—that he’d stick with it, and for once, he would.
“I brought you here because I thought you’d like it,” he said quietly, trying to force the confusion out of his voice. “You’ve helped me work on the backyard and I wanted to say thank you.”
There, that sounded neutral, right? Not Faith, you’re the nicest girl I’ve met, and I want to kiss you for nine hours straight. Now that? That sounded desperate.
Faith’s eyebrow raised. “Is that all?”
Damn, she called his bluff fast. “What else do you want it to be?”
She leaned back and turned her head toward the flowers. “I don’t know. Not exactly.”
He resumed unpacking their picnic, trying not to get his hopes up too far. “Neither do I. So I think maybe we should try to be friends, or whatever, just to see.”
She faced him, and her cheeks were as pink as the Autumn Carnival azaleas behind her. “I’d like that. I could use a good friend right now.”
“Me, too.”
She nodded briskly. “So, dinner?”