So, yeah, the sweatshirt gives me the warm fuzzies, inside and out, and I need every little bit of help I can today, to keep my cool.
I opt to skip the makeup other than my favorite strawberry chapstick, and apply an extra layer of deodorant and a spritz of whatever body splash is under the cabinet, just in case there was truth behind Cheyenne’s comment. While I love the smell of my greenhouses, I don’t want to walk around smelling like soil and fertilizer.
After throwing on my boots and coat, I venture out into the dark early morning, darting through the chilled mist and into the warmth of the greenhouse. During the hour and a half I spend with my herbal babies, my anxiety over Crew melts away as I immerse myself in the work.
With the holiday rush coming soon, I’ve got to make sure all of my buds finished with the curing stage are packaged and ready to go. Weighing and bagging is a time-consuming but necessary task I used to recruit Juno to help me with, but now, I’ll have to handle on my own. An immature sixteen-year-old, I wouldn’t trust Cheyenne to get off her phone long enough to pay attention and do the job right, and Brighton, at thirteen, is eager to learn, but still a little too young.
Just as I’m wrapping up my morning duties, a light tapping startles me. Whirling around, I see two silhouettes standing outside, with the muted light from the dawn breaking behind them. I scurry across the cement ground and open the tinted plexiglass door, shocked to see Crew and Caleb, both bundled up like they’re prepared for a blizzard.
“Mornin’, hippie girl. Cool hair,” Caleb greets me cheerfully. “Can we come inside? I’m freezing my balls off out here.”
“Of course, you little wussy. We wouldn’t want that to happen.” I giggle, moving back out of the doorway to let them in.
Crew doesn’t say anything at first, but as he steps inside and our eyes meet, his lips quirk up in an endearing, sleepy smile. Holy shit, that’s sexy. I wonder if that’s what he looks like right when he wakes up in the mornings. Does he sleep in pajama pants, or just his underwear? Boxers or boxer-briefs?
“Hudson? Did you hear me?” Caleb’s voice rips me from my daydream…my daydream that was quickly leading into indecent territory.
I pivot around to face him, but not before catching the flicker of acknowledgment in Crew’s smirking eyes, which is nearly as mortifying as my parents talking about their sex life at dinner last night. “What’s up, buddy?” Mentally berating myself, I shuffle over to the broccoli plants, where Caleb is standing and shaking his head.
“Not you too?” he groans, pinching his brow at me. “You’ve already got the look.”
Shifting my gaze back and forth between the two of them, I ask, confused, “Me too? What look?”
He sighs dramatically and throws his hands up in the air. “The same Crew-is-so-dreamy-I’ll-do-anything-for-him look that every girl between the ages of fifteen and twenty-five gets when they’re around him.” My face tenses as I try to not have that look. “Can’t you all see I’m his spitting image? A slightly younger, untainted version, I might add.”
“Shut up, Caleb.” Crew playfully shoves him as he joins us, allowing his arm to brush up against mine. “Don’t listen to this little punk. He’s just messing with you.”
I laugh to cover up the twinge of disappointment I feel, though I’m not sure why Caleb’s words sting like they do. Crew is the kind of gorgeous that is usually reserved for boy band members—part messy, part dreamy, all sexy. It’s not that I’m surprised girls fall all over him; I just don’t like being lumped in the same category, like I’m just another brainless chick, falling for his pretty face. I bite my lip, wanting to scream at him that I’m different, but knowing I’m not.
“What are you guys doing up so early?” I question, swallowing down my frustration and fighting to keep my face neutral. “Where’s your mom?”
“I woke up with a seizure and couldn’t fall back asleep. Plus, I think my body’s still on Texas time,” Caleb replies while he continues to mosey around, investigating everything. “Mom’s showering and getting dressed. She’s supposed to meet us at breakfast.”
His mention of the seizure immediately brings things back into perspective for me. I’ve got no right to be disheartened about anything; my primary concern with the Elliott family is to do what I can to help Caleb heal. The kiss needs to be pushed to the back of my mind.
“How often do you have them?”
“Every morning, when I wake up, and then a couple of other times during the week—usually when I’m stressed or exhausted.” He sounds so matter-of-fact, like seizures are an expected part of someone’s normal daily routine. It breaks my heart. Bending down to sniff the rosemary and thyme, he changes the subject. “This stuff smells good. You cook with it a lot?”
I nod once, not wanting to talk about herbs, but to find out more on his condition. “Yeah, occasionally. What’s it like? The seizures, I mean.”
“Honestly, I don’t remember them when they’re over. From the looks on the faces of everyone around me, I guess it’s pretty fucking bad, but I don’t know,” he replies with a shrug. “The headaches are what kill me. It feels like my head is gonna explode from the pressure.”
“Did you try out any of the stuff I brought yesterday?”
“No, we didn’t,” Crew rumbles from behind me, sending a tingle up my spine, but I refuse to turn around. I don’t want to get the look again. “We thought it’d be best if you were with him the first time. None of us have ever used one of those vaporizers before, and we didn’t want to fuck it up and waste what you gave us.”
“It’s not rocket science,” I assert. “I’m sure you can figure it out.”
He moves closer, his chest resting against my shoulder blade, his warm breath drifting across the back of my neck. “I thought you were gonna help us.”
Guilt slices through my gut as I recognize how selfish my last comment was. This isn’t about you, Hudson, I remind myself. “I am and I will,” I reassure them both, glancing down at my watch briefly. “I have to go set up for breakfast now, but I don’t have classes today, so I’m free after that. Whenever works best for you guys, I’ll be there.”
“Mom’s gotta run some errands after breakfast, so after you get finished would be great. Caleb and I’ll just be chillin’ around here for a while.”
“’Kay, sounds good.” I smile over at the younger Elliott brother, who’s now inspecting the poblano pepper plants. “You ever had Chiles Relleno before?”
Twisting his mouth, he looks up into the sky, as if he’s trying to remember if he has or not. “If you have to think that long about it, they must not have been very good,” I joke. “Why don’t you pick a few and I’ll make them for your breakfast? If you don’t like them, I’ll whip you up an omelet instead.”
“Really?” His face illuminates with delight. “I’ve never picked my breakfast before. This is kinda cool.”
“Yeah, and later today, I’ll show you around the other greenhouse, where we grow the pot, so you can see it in all of the different stages.” Peering over my shoulder at Crew, I lift my eyebrows in a questioning manner. “If that’s okay?”
He flashes a captivating grin and nods. “Absolutely. As long as I can come too.”
“I’ll think about it,” I flirt back, unable to resist his enticing charm, but quickly turn away to help Caleb choose his peppers.
****
A little before eleven, I hang my apron up, flip the light off in the kitchen, and close the door behind me, finally finished cleaning up after the breakfast rush. I ended up preparing no less than ten dishes of Chiles Rellenos, because as the other guests began to filter in and saw what Caleb and Crew had on their plates, they wanted it too. It was so well received from everyone Doug even suggested we make it a permanent item on the menu, which thrilled me. I may have a bit of a pleaser mentality, but I like knowing I pull my weight around here.