Where Flowers Bloom by Nikki Vale

Author:Nikki Vale
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance
Publisher: Nikki Vale

I feel Wes’s presence beside me before he even speaks. Why that is, I won’t waste my time considering. His scent, warm cedar, reaches me on the gentle morning breeze. Even the bright flowers now blooming all around the garden can’t mask his fragrance from me. My connection to Wes disturbs me. Vance and I are on better terms than we have been in years. Why does this man have to enter my life now?

“Hey.” Knowing he is there, I still react to the sound of his voice. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Good morning.” Keeping my gaze on the gardens, I sip from the coffee mug in my hand. After spending the day out on the loggia with Violet last week, this has become my favorite place to enjoy quiet time. “What is it?” My voice is harsher, colder than I intend. I’m straining to keep a distance between myself and Wes, both physical and emotional.

“I just wanted to update you on the progress of the house.”

“Tell me something.” I turn to look at him and immediately regret it. It’s early enough that his wavy chestnut hair is still damp from his morning shower. His dark blue T-shirt fits snugly over his defined chest. Wisely, I stop there, not allowing my eyes to eat up his long legs in loose-fit jeans. “Does the boss usually make this many house calls? Shouldn’t you leave this sort of thing up to David?” I don’t see Wes flinch, as much as I feel it. It’s evident in his response that he takes an emotional step back.

“You’re right.” No explanation, just an immediate shutdown. He taps the sheets of papers in his hand against his other palm. “I’ll have David go over everything with you from now on.”

“Wes—”

He’s already gone. The pain in my chest that follows is as swift and severe as his retreat.

“I found that journal I was telling you about.” Aster walks through the French doors, a worn book in her hands. She looks back over her shoulder. “What was that all about?”

“What?”

“Wes storming out of here like the hounds of hell were nipping at his heels.”

I shrug. The gesture is a lie, but it feels less like deception when no words are spoken. Aster has keen eyes for someone with blurred vision. In silence, she holds out the journal to me.

“The Path to Successful Gardening,” I say, reading the handwritten title on the cover. I open the book and randomly choose a page. “The gloriosa can most often be found in humid tropical climates, not unlike Vacherie, Louisiana near the Laura Plantation. It is of utmost importance to be careful when handling this rare flower, as it is known to be guarded by poisonous thorns.” Sighing, I close the book. “This isn’t going to be of any help. I know next to nothing about gardening.” I hold the book back out to Aster.

“That’s precisely why you need it.” She waves it away. “Keep it for now. I’ll see what else I can dig up.

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