"I'm not sulking, and you didn't say I was sexy. You said my hair was. "
He took his eyes off the road long enough to give her an up-and-down glance. "Rest of you works, too. "
Okay, something was wrong when that sort of half-assed compliment had heat balling in her belly. Best to return to safe topics. "To return to my question before I was so oddly interrupted, why did you go into landscape design?"
"Summer job that stuck. "
She waited a beat, two. Three. "Really, Logan, must you go on and on, boring me with details?"
"Sorry. I never know when to shut up. I grew up on a farm. "
"Really? Did you love it or hate it?"
"Was used to it, mostly. I like working outside, and don't mind heavy, sweaty work. "
"Blabbermouth," she said when he fell silent again.
"Not that much more to it. I didn't want to farm, and my daddy sold the farm some years back, anyway. But I like working the land. It's what I like, it's what I'm good at. No point in doing something you don't like or you're not good at. "
"Let's try this. How did you know you were good at it?"
"Not getting fired was an indication. " He didn't see how she could possibly be interested, but since she was pressing, he'd pass the time. "You know how you're in school, say in history, and they're all Battle of Hastings or crossing the Rubicon or Christ knows? In and out," he said, tapping one side of his head, then the other. "I'd jam it in there long enough to skin through the test, then poof. But on the job, the boss would say we're going to put cotoneasters in here, line these barberries over there, and I'd remember. What they were, what they needed. I liked putting them in. It's satisfying, digging the hole, prepping the soil, changing the look of things. Making it more pleasing to the eye. "
"It is," she agreed. "Believe it or not, that's the same sort of deal I have with my files. "
He slanted her a look that made her lips twitch. "You say. Anyway, sometimes I'd get this idea that, you know, those cotoneasters would look better over there, and instead of barberries, golden mops would set this section off. So I angled off into design. "
"I thought about design for a while. Not that good at it," she said. "I realized I had a hard time adjusting my vision to blend with the team's - or the client's. And I'd get too hung up in the math and science of it, and bogged down when it came time to roll over into the art. "
"Who did your landscaping up north?"
"I did. If I had something in mind that took machines, or more muscle than Kevin and I could manage, I had a list. " She smiled. "A very detailed and specific list, with the design done on graph paper. Then I hovered. I'm a champion hoverer. "
"And nobody shoved you into a hole and buried you?"
"No. But then, I'm very personable and pleasant. Maybe, when the time comes and I find my own place, you could consult on the landscaping design. "
"I'm not personable and pleasant. "
"Already noted. "
"And isn't it a leap for an obsessive, linear, detail freak to trust me to consult when you've only seen one of my jobs, and that in its early stages?"
"I object to the term 'freak. ' I prefer 'devotee. ' And it happens I've seen several of your jobs, complete. I got some of the addresses out of the files and drove around. It's what I do," she said when he braked at a Stop sign and stared at her. "I've spent some time watching Harper work, and Roz, as well as
the employees. I made it a point to take a look at some of your completed jobs. I like your work. "
"And if you hadn't?"
"If I hadn't, I'd have said nothing. It's Roz's business, and she obviously likes your work. But I'd have done some quiet research on other designers, put a file together and presented it to her. That's my job. "
"And here I thought your job was to manage the nursery and annoy me with forms. "
"It is. Part of that management is to make sure that all employees and subcontractors, suppliers and equipment are not only suitable for In the Garden but the best Roz can afford. You're pricey," she added, "but your work justifies it. "
When he only continued to frown, she poked a finger into his arm. "And men don't usually sulk when a woman compliments their work. "
"Huh. Men never sulk, they brood. "