What's Your Sign? by Lila Monroe

Author:Lila Monroe [Monroe, Lila]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lila Monroe Books
Published: 2019-10-06T18:30:00+00:00

13

Natalie

I never knew plumbing could be so sexy.

I mean, sure, there’s the hilarious porno version, “laying pipe” quips and all, but growing up in my house, I saw more of the sweaty, smelly, gross side of the trade. But the sight of Justin, drenched, biceps bulging as he wrestled with that faucet?

Well, now that’s an image that’s going to linger in my dreams.

And my awake time, too.

I jump out of bed early the next morning, full of excitement for the day ahead. And not just the feel-good volunteering, either. I pump myself full of iced coffee while I tear my closet apart trying to figure out what to wear to April’s community garden makeover. “You realize this project is basically a garbage pickup,” she points out via Facetime, effortlessly adorable in a pair of overalls and a baseball cap, her curly hair wrangled into a braid over one shoulder.

“A garbage pickup that’s also technically my first date with the CEO of my freakin’ dreams,” I remind her, digging deeper in my closet. “I need, like, sexy work boots. Are sexy work boots a thing?”

“Ask a Kardashian,” April grins. “See you there!”

“Ugh!”

Finally, I decide on a pair of ripped skinny jeans and an ancient pair of Converse—I know Justin’s into those, at least—along with a vintage I Love NY tee I found at a consignment shop. I scoop my hair into a ponytail and spend the better part of half an hour at the bathroom sink trying to make it look like I’m not wearing any makeup, then head out, ready for any trash-picking, flower-planting, and sultry flirting that might await.

The project is happening in the empty lot beside an old church, on the other side of Brooklyn. Justin is already at the lot when I arrive, looking ridiculously good in jeans and a white tee—and, sure enough, his own pair of Converse. “Nice sneaks,” he says, smiling at me from behind a pair of Ray-Bans, and I smile at him in return.

“You weren’t kidding,” I say, noticing the gardening gloves tucked into his back pocket. “Brought your own supplies, huh?”

“I’m a regular Boy Scout,” Justin says with a wink. “Always prepared.”

I bite my tongue and refrain from making a dirty joke, because I’ve already fulfilled my quotient of embarrassing behavior for the month. Although, he seemed to like that email, if the scene at my apartment last night was any indication . . .

“Welcome, everyone!”

I drag my thoughts away from Justin’s tongue and back to the task at hand. April is greeting everyone and explaining about our job today.

“Just a little elbow grease, and we can make this space somewhere really beautiful,” she’s saying, beaming happily. “So thank you for showing up and lending a hand!”

There’s a good crowd here: some people April knows from the flower shop and a bunch more from a community group she’s a part of, a couple of high school students looking for service credit and a gaggle of little kids running around.

“OK, you two are on clean-up duty,” April says, consulting her clipboard.

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