Third Time's a Charm

She placed a hand on his arm. “Thank you.”



“Don’t thank me. We’re a team.” He grinned at her, his perfect lips tilting up and making her stomach drop.



“Why, look what the cat drug in,” Gillian said, holding a mug in her hand. “I’d heard one of you had a baby.” Turning to Sasha, she said, “Is she trying to pass this one off as yours?”



Sasha’s green eyes hardened. “Who says this one’s not mine?”



Gillian blinked. She looked pointedly at Ivy, then back at him. “She doesn’t look a thing like you, if you know what I mean.”



This wasn’t the first time Rose had been subjected to cruel remarks concerning Ivy, but usually it was more about the Holland reputation than anything else. “Thank you for the water, Gillian.” Rose took the mug. “I’ll fill up Ivy’s bottle and we’ll be on our way.”



“Ivy takes after my mother,” Sasha said and pressed a kiss on top of the baby’s head before leaning back to look at her. “Don’t you, darling?” Ivy’s watery eyes crinkled at the corners as she smiled at him. “That’s my girl.”



Rose sucked in air. Not since high school had anyone outside of her family defended her. Her heart did several little flips as she searched through the diaper bag one-handed. After mixing the formula, she stood and passed the empty mug back to Gillian.



Sasha held out his hand. “Let me feed her this time, sweetheart.”



“Okay.”



Rose passed him the bottle. Ivy latched on eagerly, sucking like crazy on the nipple.



“Eat your fill, darling,” he said with a smile and the baby reached up with one hand to touch his jaw.



“Anything else?” Gillian crossed her arms over her ample chest.



He looked at Rose. “Is there another place you and I can eat?”



Rose glanced at the woman scowling at her. Lifting her chin, she said, “I’m starving and so are you. We’re eating here.”



“I’ll not have her insult you and profit from it,” he murmured into Ivy’s curls.



A little smile formed on her lips. “Then you’ll be extremely limited with where you shop and eat around Holland Springs.”



Leaning down, he gave the appearance of kissing her cheek, but did no more than rub his jaw against her as he whispered in her ear. “Make a list, love.”



Rose’s heart sprinted, stuttered, and then passed out.



***



That evening, after putting Ivy to bed, Rose made her way down to the family room and found Sasha watching re-runs of Paula Dean’s cooking show.



“Paula, you naughty minx, there can never be too much butter.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.



She cleared her throat and sat down beside him on the sofa, drawing her knees up and her legs over to the side. “If you see something you’d like for me to fix for supper one night, let me know.”



“Hullo, sweetheart.” He gave her a friendly smile. “I might take you up on that very delicious offer.”



A warmth that had nothing to do with desire spilled into her. It was nice to have someone to talk to besides Blackbeard, after Ivy went to bed. Heck, it was nice to talk to anyone that could talk back in complete sentences. “Thank you for supper and…well, everything you did today. Yesterday, too. My nap. I was really sleepy.” Great. She sounded like a complete moron.



Clicking off the T.V., he turned to her and laid an arm across the back of the sofa. Although he wasn’t touching her, it was as if she could feel the tips of his fingers brush against her shoulder. He tilted his head to one side, studying her.



She looked away and picked at the fuzz on the arm of the sofa.



“It was my pleasure. If you’d like, I’ll help you clean next Saturday, too.” Just as she glanced up, a wry smile covered his face. “Since I have nothing better to do.”



The back of her neck heated. At the time, she had meant what she’d said, but now… “I’m sorry for saying that. I was angry—”



“Don’t.” He leaned into her. The clean, male scent of his body invaded her senses His golden hair was dark where it was still damp from his shower. She wanted to run her fingers through it and almost had to sit on her hands to stop herself.



“Still, it wasn’t nice,” she insisted.



He raised a brow. “I’m not a nice man.”



Rose lifted her own brow. “Really? So not-nice men get up at the crack of dawn to help clean? Not-nice men let sleep-deprived aunts get naps? Not-nice men bring cheesecake?” She placed her hand on his knee. “Not-nice—”



He shot to his feet, dislodging her hand, and she blinked.



“I’m tired,” he said, his voice gruff. “Massively so.”



Searching his face, she found shadows under his eyes and weariness in the lines around his mouth. Despite his meeting and late night, he had worked his tail off for her and hadn’t complained once. Well, if she didn’t count his constant need to point out the huge flaw in decorating a house at the beach with beachy items.



“Do vacationers really need to be reminded where they are?” he had said, shuddering at a living room decorated with fishermen’s nets and buoys. “Sand in awkward places not enough?



“I need to turn in for the night, too. I have lots to do around the house tomorrow,” she said with a crooked smile.



“Need some help?”



She nodded. “Some of those are things that I can’t do myself.”



Briefly his eyes closed. When they opened, they were completely guarded. “I’ll see you in the morning. Good night.” He strode from the room.



Rose sighed and stretched out on the cushions of the sofa, flexing her toes and calves. Blackbeard jumped on her stomach and meowed. She teased his whiskers. “What do you think of him?”



Blackbeard kneaded her sweater and purred, completely content.



“Me, too,” she said, stroking his back.



Chapter Eight



“If you clean that one more time, the finish is going to come off.”



The pot fell into the sink with a loud bang.



Crap, she’d been caught. For the past thirty minutes, Rose had been staring out of the window over the kitchen sink while Sasha chopped wood. Ten minutes ago, he’d taken off his shirt and her mouth had dried out. Five minutes ago he’d stretched and flexed his arms and her knees had gone weak.



Cheeks heating, she dried her hands on the kitchen towel and turned to face her sister. “How long have you been standing there?”



“Long enough.” Skye moved to stand beside her, giving Rose a quick hug. “Can’t say I blame you. The view is amazing.”



Rose couldn’t fight the giggle. “Yes, it is.”



Sasha’s arms and shoulders glistened in the noon sun. The ax made a perfect arc before it split another piece of wood in half.



They both sighed.



“Man-candy Sunday,” Skye said dreamily, “We should sell tickets.”



“Skye!” Rose smacked her sister with the towel.



“Ouch!” Skye held up her hands and scooted away. “I’m just trying to think of ways to pay off our back taxes.”



“Oh, honey, don’t. Concentrate on school instead.”



A slight flush filled Skye’s freckled face. “I want to apologize for the other day. You and Summer have always taken care of me, and I sounded like an ungrateful brat.”



“I’d already forgotten about it, but thank you. Besides, you’re the baby and it’s our job to take care of you.” Rose tapped her sister’s nose.



Skye rolled her eyes.



They both turned back to the amazing view of Sasha doing shirtless manual labor.



A little sigh left Rose’s mouth before she could stop it.



“Go give him this.” Skye handed her a glass of iced tea, giving her a little push toward the back door. “I’ll listen out for Ivy.”



“Well, I guess he could use something to cool off,” Rose reasoned. “He’s been out there for an hour.”



“He’s chopped enough wood for a dozen fireplaces,” Skye said, a knowing look on her face. “Wonder what kind of frustration he’s working off?”



Rose wasn’t about to answer that question. She started for the door, then stopped and turned to face her sister. “What are you doing here, anyway?”



Skye grinned. “I was visiting a friend and something told me to come by.” She gave Rose another push. “Quit stalling and get out there.”



“I’m going,” she mumbled and opened the door. Unseasonably warm air hit her face and bare arms as she walked outside. Brown grass stabbed the soles of her feet. How could she have forgotten her shoes?



Sasha entered her line of vision. Tanned skin and pierced nipples gleaming in the sun. His jeans hung low on his hips, making her want to trace the line of hair that she knew dipped out of sight.



Oh, right—he was why she’d forgotten her shoes.



The wind picked up when she was only a few feet away, blowing her hair forward. Sasha paused, then embedded the ax into a piece of wood and turned. “Hullo, Rose.”



“Here.” She thrust the tea at him, misjudged the distance and ended up colliding with his chest. Tea sloshed over the sides, down his chest and her hand.



“Holy hell, that’s cold!” His stomach contracted.



“Oh God, I’m sorry.” She couldn’t stop staring at the liquid as it made its way down his abdomen. Slowly, she wiped her hand on her skirt.



He pulled off one of his gloves, tossing it to the side before taking the glass from her. “Don’t suppose you brought something to get this off of me.”



Rose licked her bottom lip as she thought of licking the sweet liquid from his skin with her tongue. How’d it would taste sweet and…she heard a sharp intake of breath and her eyes flew up to his.



In their mossy depths glinted amusement and desire. “Care to share what you’re thinking?”



Her eyes widened. “No, I mean, I’ll go get you something.”



“I got it, love. No worries.” He drank what was left of the tea and handed her the glass. “My thanks.” Gesturing to the piles of wood, he asked, “This enough for you?”



“Ah...”



He drew his brows together, still not wiping the tea from his skin. Dear God, would he wipe it away? She took a step forward, grabbed his shirt from the top of a stump and toweled him off. His hand came around hers, stopping her maniacal cleaning and taking away his shirt. “It’s a good thing Skye’s the one who wants to be a midwife, because your bedside manner leaves much to be desired.” He shook the material out, making a face at the spots of tea.



“My…you—wait, who told you that?” She tilted her head to one side and gripped the glass. Ice melting made it slightly slippery.



She must have imagined the look of panic that registered in his eyes, because in her next heartbeat he was smooth as the body butter she sold in her store. “Jemma Leigh, who else?”



“Oh.” She shifted from one foot then the other while he stared at her, a small smile on his lips. The sun chose that moment to shine directly on his chest, highlighting his nipple rings. Annoyed, she glanced back at the house, spying her sister in the kitchen window with her hand over her mouth. Skye was laughing at her. Laughing and enjoying Rose’s discomfort.



Rose narrowed her eyes. “Stop it.”



The rod holding the curtain fell sideways, obscuring her sister’s view. A large cloud covered the sun. Rose heard a peal of laughter from the house and frowned.



“Was that Skye?” Sasha asked.



She turned back to him and nodded.



“Don’t you need to check on her? It looks like the curtain rod nearly took her head off.” He stared at the window, his brow furrowed as if he were trying to solve a puzzle.



“I have to go.” She made her way to the forcing house (a structure that most people would call a greenhouse.), entering through the gate and plucking a sprig of lavender. Once inside, she tucked the lavender in her hair and set the glass down on one of the many wooden tables. Like every Poppy Holland before her, Rose forced fruits, vegetables, flowers and herbs to grow out of season in order to make ‘potions’ and creams.



Familiar scents of rosemary, lemon verbena, and honeysuckle inundated her, settling her nerves. She took a deep breath and began checking the pots of herbs and flowers for insects, mold and dryness. Time seemed to fall away as she got into a groove of removing dead leaves and flower heads. Mentally, she sorted through the plants she needed to make her next batch of shampoo and conditioner: chamomile, aloe, and—?



She glanced around, deciding on peaches. She picked a few and carefully placed them in a nearby basket before making a snack out of one. Snapping off a couple of mint leaves, she popped them in her mouth and picked up an empty watering can. The lemon verbena felt a little dry, and two containers of sage would have to be replaced soon.



“Is this your hiding place?”



Startled, Rose dropped the can. It bounced on the hard-packed earthen floor, a hollow sound echoing as it came to a stop at Sasha’s feet. He held Ivy in his arms. The baby looked content as she snuggled against him.



Rose swallowed and closed the distance between them to pick up the watering can. “I’m not hiding.”



“Meditation room?”



She bit back a smile as she stood. “Did she just wake up?” After setting the can down, she clapped her hands and held them out to Ivy. The baby smiled and leaned forward, arms waving.



“I fed Ivy after my shower, but Skye took care of the whole diaper-changing affair.” Sasha shuddered. “There’s not enough money in the world to make me touch a diaper—at least not without a hazmat suit, and those aren’t flattering for my physique. Or anyone’s, really.”