Partners in Romance

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Keith Anders stared at the shovel in his hand, wondering how the hell he’d come all the way from a year spent back home on his family’s Illinois farm to walking into a community garden on his first day in Atlanta. At least he wouldn’t be dealing with a huge herd of sheep or mucking out a horse barn here.

At least he didn’t think so.

The neat and orderly garden in front of him looked more like a botanical garden than one actual food came from. Precise graveled walkways almost wide enough to be driveways. Immaculate boxes made of some kind of recycled plastic boards that actually did look like wood. Geometric arrangements of pale heads of cabbage, darker leafy kale, and broccoli like miniature trees were backed by vines loaded with green beans, cucumbers, and melons cradled in little slings.

Keith figured the heat that hadn’t quite arrived would take out lettuce and spinach and such before long. But he surprised himself by looking forward to what he might be able to coax out of the rich, nearly black soil well into the fall with an extra month before the killing frost.

The fluffy clouds in the deep blue sky overhead were punctuated by an amazing number of airplanes. He’d never seen so much traffic in the sky outside of New York City’s airspace, and here almost all of it was heading to one vast airport.

But even with that and the never-ending traffic he knew ran through and around Atlanta, all he could smell as he walked deeper into the garden was that rich soil. The tart, pungent, green aroma of the thriving tomato vines he couldn’t resist touching as he passed.

The jets high above left a faint roar, but what Keith mostly heard at ground level was his boots crunching in the gravels, the wind brushing his curly blond hair back and away from his face. The low hum of honeybees from the garden’s colony working feverishly in the rows of red and purple flowers beyond the raised beds.

If Keith’s latest escape from his farm-boy roots meant he had to come a long way south and end up right back in a garden patch, at least it was a beautiful one.

He’d just reached four played-out beds that had recently been full of radishes and early peas (complete with a rake and a huge half-barrel of compost for him to shovel in) when a man spoke from right behind him.

“Is this gardening thing voluntary? Or all the new residents assigned a turn, like chores?”

Keith turned and blinked, then smiled. This wasn’t any of the other members of the informal garden committee he’d just met about an hour ago. For one thing, nice as they were, none of them looked anywhere near this good.

Mystery Guy stood a little shorter than Keith, just under six feet tall, with thick brown hair standing up in the most adorable bed-head mess. The tan khakis and light green dress shirt weren’t as well suited for gardening as Keith’s old jeans and ancient t-shirt, but the clothes certainly…fit well.

Mystery Guy looked strong, but not gym machine strong. Actual activity and getting out and doing things strong. Keith’s favorite.

“Well, I just got here last night,” Keith said. “So I’m not sure if garden duty is only for me or for everyone new. They haven’t told me all the rules yet. I think they do that on purpose to keep the new folks off-balance.”

Mystery Guy grinned. “We’ll have to stick together, then.” He held out a big, square hand. “Josh Waldron. Got here a couple of days ago, but I must have snuck in under the chore radar.”

Keith laughed and let Josh’s hand swallow his in a warm, firm grip.

“Keith Anders. I made the mistake of admitting I grew up in farm country in southern Illinois. Or it could be because I volunteered so I could get out and meet people. I have to force myself to do that when I get to a new place sometimes.”

Josh nodded and rolled his big green eyes. “Yeah, I have to force myself most of the time. It’s usually worth it. I come from middle of nowhere Ohio, but I have exactly zero farm or garden experience myself. What exactly are you out here doing? Taking the dirt out of the boxes?”

Keith squatted beside the raised bed, pleased that Josh did the same.

“This isn’t merely dirt,” he said, gathering up a handful of the cool, slightly moist contents of the box. “Dirt gets in the corners and on the car and all over your nice clothes if you’re not careful. What you’re looking at here is soil. Nice quality, too. I’m adding compost to these four to feed it and make it even better for the next crops.”

Josh grabbed a handful himself, squeezing it between his fingers. Keith smiled when Josh held it close to his nose and sniffed.

“Smells good. Not like chemicals, or what I’ve always heard you farmer types use for fertilizer.”

“There are times of the year when a big farm doesn’t smell quite so good.” Keith wrinkled his nose. “You can just about taste the air. You generally don’t get that in a nice garden space like this.”

Josh sprinkled the soil back into the bed, brushed his hands together, and stood. He looked up at Keith under his eyebrows and smiled. A swarm of humming bees seemed to take flight in Keith’s belly.

Gods, but this one was handsome.

“Since you’re not actually shoveling s**t,” Josh said, “want some help? Or at least company and someone to talk to? I promise not to make too big a mess.”

Keith handed the shovel over with a smile.

“You bet. I’ll rake, and you shovel since you’re not exactly dressed for messy work.” Keith took a chance and put on his best imitation of a rich, Southern drawl. “So why don’t you tell me, Josh, what brings an Ohio boy like you way down south to Georgia?”