A pause while she stared me down, seeming to weigh her options. “All right, Filthy. Can you at least wear a clean shirt? This venue books for two hundred thousand per event, and I don’t want to have to get you in through the service entrance.”

“Deal,” I said, extending a hand in challenge. It was as filthy like she’d said, with crescents of dirt under my nails and enough soil in the creases of my palms to grow zucchinis.

Her eyes dropped to my hand, and for a moment, I was positive she’d refuse. But somewhere in that pretty little head of hers existed some form of manners and a healthy helping of pride, so she slipped that spotless, manicured hand into my dirty, calloused one.

It was soft and warm, though her fingers were strong, gripping my hand and pumping it once, firm and definitive, before taking it back.

Instantly, I felt guilty for daring her—her skin was spoiled with streaks and flecks of dirt. To her credit, she didn’t even dust it off. Instead, she held up her chin and gave me a quietly confrontational glare.

“I’ll give Ivy the exact address. At least I know she’ll write it down.”

“Whatever you have to do,” I said, returning my forearm to the handle of the shovel, not missing the flick of her eyes to my shoulders and the cross of my arms.

“Tomorrow then. Don’t be late.”

She tugged the hem of her jacket, straightening it to match the yardstick that was her spine, and once again, I lamented taking her hand. A scuff of dirt now sullied the very edge of that white tailored coat.

Before I could apologize, she turned on her heel to walk away.

What she didn’t realize—the cat had taken up post directly behind her.

The moment stretched as she tilted in a successful attempt to avoid impaling Brutus with her heel, and when that heel came down, it caught in the seam of concrete. Her long legs twisted, arms shooting out for balance but finding none. Fast, but not fast enough, I moved for her, the shovel hitting the ground with a clang as that pristine white ass of hers landed flat in the black-eyed Susans and that fresh coat of soil I’d just laid down.

Brutus took a seat next to Tess’s feet, curling his tail around himself and watching Lila with what I swore was a wry smile.