Chapter Three

 

Willow pulled her car down the narrow, paved drive that led back toward Nana’s greenhouse and stopped several yards away from the impressive glass structure. It had been three days since her visit and that morning she had decided that she was no longer able to avoid or deny the feelings that she was having for Gannon. She had woken up with thoughts of him on her mind and the fleeting memory of an indulgent dream that she knew had strongly featured his striking face and the body that was stunning even through his clothes. It was as though the thoughts of him that she had been having since she met him had grown on each other, amplifying and building until they started getting out of control. They felt even less logical than they had when she first became aware of them, and Willow felt as though she had allowed them to become bigger than they really were.

She felt like she needed to see him again, to look him in the eyes and confront her reaction to him in a controlled and realistic way so that she could prove that these feelings were nothing more than a daydream, nothing more than an overly imaginative mind that had grasped on to these first exciting glimmers of attraction and let them spiral. Her strawberry plants were still struggling and she truly did want Gannon to use the obvious skill that he had to help her figure out what could be wrong with them and start to bring them back. Going to see him was the only way that she would be able to get her emotions under control and set their interaction onto the right path.

Willow opened her door and then leaned over into the passenger seat to pick up the loaf of banana bread that she had made that morning before climbing out of the car and starting toward the greenhouse. She stepped into the building cautiously and looked around. The space was quiet and peaceful, filled only with the sound of soft streams of water showering down on plants from the timed sprinkler system on one side. She had gone a few steps when she heard a low snipping sound that she soon recognized as the sound of pruning shears cutting through stems. Willow walked toward it and as she turned a corner toward the section of the greenhouse that contained some of Nana’s prized flowers, she saw Gannon. He stood with his back to her and sitting beside him she saw a wide basket. She paused so that she could simply watch him. He moved without hurry, gently touching the plants in front of him and occasionally snipping off leaves that he tossed into a composting bucket at his feet. He cut a flower and rested it into the basket, moving tenderly and carefully as not to disturb the soft pink petals of the bloom.

Willow felt a shiver ripple through her as she watched Gannon. There was nothing suggestive about what he was doing, and yet she felt her heartbeat flutter and heat ripple down her spine. Her angle allowed her to see his fingertips tracing the petals of the flowers and stroke down their slim stems. The flowers seemed to tremble at his touch, responding to him much how Willow expected that she would respond to the same tender attention.

As if he could sense that she was standing behind him, Gannon turned and glanced over his shoulder at her. When he saw her, his eyes widened slightly and she saw the faintest hint of a smile touch his lips.

“Hi,” she said breathlessly, trying to regain control of herself now that he was looking at her.

“Hello,” he said.

“I’m sorry,” she said, taking a partial step backwards so that she could leave if he expressed anger that she was there. “I didn’t mean to disrupt you. I can go.”

“No,” he said, turning the rest of the way toward her. “Please. Don’t go. It’s alright.”

Willow took a step closer to him, unable to stop the smile that came to her lips as she looked at him. The intense attraction to him was still there, and she struggled to keep an obvious expression off of her face. Even as she did, though, she thought she saw a sparkle in Gannon’s eyes that suggested he might be feeling something for her as well. A few moments later those eyes dropped to the loaf in her hand and she lifted it toward him.

“Banana bread,” she said. Gannon looked at it quizzically and Willow took another step toward him. “It’s banana nut bread,” she said. “I baked it.”

He looked up at her and she saw a touch of something soft in his gaze.

“You did?” he asked.

Willow nodded, glancing down at the bread in her hand. It looked simple and rustic wrapped unevenly in pink plastic wrap and tied with a piece of twine that she had found tucked into one of the drawers in her kitchen, but Gannon had been looking at it like it was something precious and amazing. She could smell the rich spices and creamy banana coming through the packaging and felt a flicker of pride.

“It was my grandmother’s recipe,” she told him. “I’ve been baking loaves of it since I was just a little girl. It’s my favorite. Would you like to try a piece?”

Gannon brushed his hands on his pants as he nodded.

“Yes,” he said.

Willow walked up to the counter where he had been working and put the bread down so that she could untie the twine and unwrap the plastic. The scent of the bread became stronger and she drew in a breath of it, filling her lungs with the cinnamon, nutmeg, and brown sugar. Immediately her mind filled with memories of sitting in her grandmother’s kitchen, her legs dangling over the side of the white-and-black checked counter as she stirred the massive ceramic mixing bowl rested in her lap. Her grandmother would move around the kitchen like she was floating, grabbing up the ingredients and tossing them into the batter seemingly without thinking about them. Willow had often thought that Violet didn’t know the measurements of the bread or that she made up the recipe as she went along each time. As she got older, though, she learned to recognize the visual of each of the ingredients, soon realizing that Violet didn’t measure the ingredients as others might, but that she was still precise and accurate with each delectable touch that she added. Willow picked up the skill and by the time that she was too tall to sit on the counter and it was instead Violet who was sitting on a large wooden chair in the corner, she could put together the bread with the same perfection.

She didn’t have a knife with her, so Willow took one corner of the bread and broke it off into her hand. She offered it to Gannon with an apologetic look.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t have a plate.”

“That’s alright,” Gannon said.

He took the piece from her hand and looked at it for a moment as though he had never seen anything like the bread. Willow took a piece for herself and put it in her mouth, part for the pure pleasure of sampling the favorite treat, and part almost as an example to guide him through his hesitation. Gannon followed and the moment that the bread touched his tongue, she could see how much he enjoyed it. His eyes widened and he chewed eagerly before swallowing and reaching for another piece.

“Do you like it?” Willow asked with a laugh.

Gannon nodded.

“I do,” he said. “It’s delicious. I’ve never tasted anything like it.”

“I’m glad you like it.” She hesitated for a moment. “Maybe I can bake another for you when you come help me with my plants.”

She took another piece of the bread to fill the strange silence that formed, hoping that she would look casual enough to push through the awkward moment. She was starting to speak again, to brush away the comment and tell him that she didn’t need his help, when he spoke.

“I’d like that,” he asked.

Willow smiled at him.

“Good,” she said. “I would really appreciate your help. I got a bit of a late start on my strawberries this year and they don’t seem to be responding too well to what I’m doing for them. I’m a little worried that if I don’t get them under control soon they won’t produce this year. You seem to have a special touch with these plants.”

Gannon glanced down as if bashful.

“I’d be happy to help you if I can,” he said.

“Thank you,” she said. She took another bite of the bread. “Why don’t you come to my house Saturday? Nana can give you directions.”

Gannon hesitated for a moment and Willow worried that she had crossed some sort of line.

“I don’t drive,” he said.

“Oh,” Willow said. “That’s fine. I can come get you.”

Gannon smiled with relief in his eyes.

“I’ll see you then.”