“How about these?” He held up a Sumo Citrus. “These look kind of like my neighbors’.”

“Ah, Sumos are delicious,” she said. “My personal favorite. But you have to get past how ugly they look.”

“Oh, that’s definitely not it,” he said. “My neighbors’ oranges taste like absolute shit.”

“Well, I’m sorry, sir,” she said, laughing, “I don’t think we carry oranges that taste like that.”

His laugh, like his voice, was deep and resonant. “Okay, don’t call me sir.” He pointed a finger at her. “I’m not that much older than you. I’m Micah.” He extended his hand.

“Karina.” She took off one of her industrial rubber gloves to shake his hand and felt an electrifying warmth from his open palm.

“Karina,” he repeated. “The beautiful girl who loves the ugliest orange.” He tossed the Sumo into the air and caught it.

The spark of attraction she felt, the first since meeting James, caught her off guard and she looked down to mask her reflexive smile. “Would you like to taste one of those?” she asked, pulling out her knife. “It does have a thick skin, so it might give you that zest you’re looking for.”

“Sure,” he said, holding her steady with his eyes. “I’d love to.”

* * *

The next Sunday afternoon, Micah appeared again, at the end of her shift. He and Karina discussed the flavor properties of different colors of asparagus, and how disappointed he’d been the first time he cooked the purple variety and its unique color leached out. The following weekend, he told her about growing his own rhubarb, and how his near-perfect lettuce crop had been decimated by a family of rabbits. “I was going to put up a wire fence, but I knew they’d just try to jump over it and hurt themselves on the sharp wires. A lost head of romaine is one thing, but a bleeding rabbit wouldn’t rest well with my conscience, you know?” He laughed, and Karina searched for something interesting to say to keep the conversation going, to keep him there with his rich eyes and warm smile.

Each week, she anticipated seeing him, and they had longer and more involved conversations. “What are you studying at school?” he asked her and seemed genuinely interested as she described her interdisciplinary environmental science major. He inquired about her seminar water systems project, and when she explained the conclusions, a fleeting thought of James passed without emotion. Micah seemed fascinated by the things she described, admiring of what she knew. Karina told him about her work at the Botany Lab, breeding new varietals of heirloom tomatoes and pole beans.

“So, what do you grow in your own garden?” Micah asked her.

Karina shook her head. “I don’t have a garden. I live in an apartment near campus. No outdoor space, unfortunately.”

“What? A young woman full of knowledge about fruits and vegetables and no garden of your own?” Micah cocked his head.

Karina smiled and shrugged. “Well, I get all my produce here.”