Don't Touch My Petunia

by Tara Sheets

  “Because any man lucky enough to get you would be a complete fool to ruin it.”

  Wait, what? He was complimenting her? Her heart thudded against her rib cage, and a warm rush of pleasure flowed over her. It felt good to be on the receiving end of his praise, especially when she was so used to arguing with him.

  Logan’s expression was unreadable.

  What else was he thinking? Juliette wanted to ask, but she was afraid to ruin her streak of luck.

  “You’re too good for him, Juliette. Plain and simple.”

  Okay, now the world just spun out of its orbit. Logan was praising her. This had to end before it got out of hand.

  “He’s as fake as his accent,” Logan continued. “And you’re one of the most open, honest, real people I’ve ever met. You’re too smart for him. Too beautiful for him. Too . . . everything for him.”

  Logan looked over at her, and she felt like she had to grab on to something or she’d float away.

  “Um . . .” Juliette bit her lower lip. Concentrate! He’s praising you. Say something smart. Dazzle him with your intellect. “Did you know that some herbal teas are believed to help cure immunodeficiency disorders?”

  Logan blinked. “What?”

  She opened her mouth and began spouting off the basic health benefits of herbal tea, all too aware of the way he watched her with that secret smile. He looked at her as if she was fascinating. As if she was important.

  “So anyway,” she continued. “I make this really good herbal tea, and you should come inside and have some. If you want.”

  Yup, she’d just invited him in. Juliette’s head swam with all the reasons inviting him into her home was a bad idea, but none of it mattered. All that stuff meant nothing when Logan O’Connor was looking at her like this.

  He threw the car into park and shut off the engine. “Okay.”

  Juliette jumped out and flew up the steps. Her cottage was old, but well loved. Rosebushes lined the driveway, and ivy grew up the sides of the house, as if nature was claiming it as her own. The flower boxes on the front porch railing spilled over with a profusion of brightly colored blooms, and she’d planted sweet lavender on either side of the stairs leading up to her door. There was an old stepping stone hanging on the wall by the door. It was an art project she’d made with her mother when she was five—her small handprint, surrounded by bits of colorful glass and seashells.

  Since her entire purse was now at the bottom of the ocean, she searched in a planter for the spare key she kept near the door. “I can’t believe he capsized the boat,” she said nervously, trying to fill the space between them with words. She babbled on about plastic champagne cups and seaweed and how Burning Man was clothing optional. How Tweedle Dee didn’t know Austen, and how Kat had a pet crow.

  Logan came up to stand behind her as she fumbled with the lock. He was so huge, and so close, she could almost feel his warmth seeping through her wet sweatshirt. “Now I’ll have to go get a new license and another key made. Luckily, I didn’t have any money in there. Just my phone and my entire life and whatever.” She dropped the key, bent to pick it up, and tried to open the door again. Why was she so nervous?

  “Juliette,” he said softly, placing a warm hand over hers on the doorknob.

  She could feel his soft breath against her cheek. “Hmm?”

  “Shut up.”

  “Okay.”

  He leaned in, took the key, and unlocked the door with a click that seemed to ricochet through her entire body. This was really happening. She was bringing him into her home. Her sanctuary. No man’s land.

  When she gathered her courage and stepped over the threshold, Logan was right behind her.

  Chapter Seventeen

  After quickly showering, changing into dry clothes, and toweling her hair, Juliette didn’t feel any calmer. Logan O’Connor was in her house! How could she relax? Her entire body thrummed with restless energy. She was nervous. Excited. A little bit giddy.

  She gathered herself together and went to the kitchen to make tea, like it was any other day. If nothing else, it gave her something to do. Chamomile tea was supposed to be soothing. It was supposed to impart feelings of calm and comfort. Juliette brewed it out of dried flowers from her garden, and she knew for a fact it made people relax. Creating tea to help soothe people was part of her special gift. Not for the first time in her life, she found herself wishing the Holloway charms worked on herself.

  A few minutes later, she lifted the copper kettle from her stove, poured steaming water into two mugs, added generous dollops of honey, and went in search of Logan.

  He was in the living room looking at a framed wall painting with the phrase “The Earth Laughs in Flowers.”

  “It’s my favorite quote,” Juliette said, joining him. She handed him a cup of tea. “My cousin Emma gave it to me for my birthday a few years ago.”

  He lifted the mug of chamomile tea and sniffed, frowning.

  “I know you’re more of a beer guy, but at least try it. You never know.”

  He gave her a skeptical look, took a sip, and grimaced. “Now I know.”

  Juliette rolled her eyes. “Just drink it. Why do you always have to be so stubborn?”

  He lifted a brow in challenge, but there was a teasing note in his voice. “Why do you always have to be so bossy?”

  “It’s one of my best qualities,” she said, tossing her hair.

  “Says you.” He set his cup down and moved closer.

  This was it. He was going to kiss her, and she was already ready, already. She tilted her face up and closed her eyes. Why not? Why not just let it happen? Who really cared if he was Romeo’s nephew? She could overlook it, for now. Who cared if she’d had a crush on him since zero’th grade? Things were different. Thirteen years had passed and they were older now. They could keep it light and fun. It would be no big deal. They were obviously attracted to each other and he seemed to like her, even though he had Bella and probably a lot of other women circling him like sharks. Maybe, like her, he just wanted to have a good time. Maybe he wasn’t looking for anything else.

  “Can I have something else?”

  Juliette opened her eyes. Blinked. Stepped back a little. “What?”

  “Do you have anything else to drink besides that stuff?” He gestured to the tea.

  Juliette pointed in the direction of the kitchen. “In the fridge.”

  “Good.” He walked into the kitchen, and she stared dumbly after him.

  What the hell? Yep, he was really walking away from her. Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. This was ridiculous. Guys didn’t just walk away from her. At least, not usually. Not when she was standing in front of them with her eyes closed and her lips all smoochy-smoochy. How could she have misinterpreted that moment? Maybe her brain was waterlogged after her dip in the ocean. Or maybe Brock’s idiocy had worn off on her, somehow.

  She found Logan sipping beer on her back patio, one hand in his pocket as he took in her garden.

  He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to. Juliette knew her garden was stunning. Even though she tended it almost every day and knew every last flower, every last leaf, it never ceased to delight her. That was the wonderful thing about Mother Nature. She was always full of surprises.

  She stood beside him with her head cocked to one side, trying to imagine what her garden must look like to a person who’d never seen it before. The evening summer sunlight gave the garden a warm, rich glow. A huge maple tree stood at one end, surrounded by flowering azalea bushes. Dragonflies zipped around the bright pink blooms. Tulips and daffodils danced in the breeze, tucked here and there among rosebushes and lavender plants. The scent of jasmine filled the air, and lilacs twined up an arched trellis. There was a small rockery with a waterfall tucked among the ferns, and a fairy wind chime hanging from a branch above it. The fairy’s wings were spread behind her as she perched on a sliver of the moon, dangling her feet over the edge.

  “This place is . . .” Logan shook h
is head. “Amazing.”

  Juliette tried to pretend it didn’t matter, but it was impossible to ignore the surge of pleasure she felt at his praise. She had lived in the cottage her entire life, and tended the garden for as long as she could remember. It was where she had taken her first steps. Where she’d first learned to climb a tree. Where she came for comfort whenever life seemed too difficult to bear. The garden was an extension of herself. It shouldn’t matter to her that Logan approved, but it did.

  He walked toward the tree, turning in a slow circle. “Did you do all this?”

  “Well, not just me.” She took a seat on a swinging bench under trailing ivy. “Mother Nature had a hand in it. I still have so much I want to do. That rose trellis is breaking down.” She pointed to a wild tangle of flowers woven through a weathered piece of lattice. “I’d like to replace it with an archway, and then maybe lay a rock path beyond it leading into the woods.”

  Logan wandered through the garden. “I’ve never seen anything like this. How did you do it?”

  “Magic,” she said impishly, drawing her knees up and linking her arms around her legs. “I’m a Holloway, remember?”

  He sat beside her on the weathered bench. “How old were you when you realized you had this relationship with nature?”

  She eyed him sideways. “You mean magic?”

  “Sure.” His expression held no skepticism, only curiosity. The genuine interest on his face, the openness, made her chest expand with hope. It wasn’t often that someone accepted her for who she really was. Did he truly accept her?

  “I don’t really remember when I first realized it,” she said. “I’ve always felt connected.”

  A vine from overhead landed softly on her shoulder. She lifted it absently, running the soft leaves back and forth against her cheek. “My mother said she once found me in the garden when I was a baby. I’d crawled out into the grass and fallen asleep under the tree. She said a ring of daisies had sprouted up around me, and that’s when she knew what my gift was.”

  Logan was quiet for a long time, and Juliette wondered what he was thinking. Maybe it was too much for him to truly believe. For most people, it was. He was from a normal family, after all. Maybe he thought she was a whack job, too. Only one way to find out.

  She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, gathering her courage. “You said earlier that you believed. Do you really?”

  He looked surprised that she asked. “Yes.”

  Juliette felt her limbs go light with gratitude. It was just a single word, but it meant so much. She felt as though she’d just been given a precious gift she never knew she needed.

  “Uncle Ro told me about it,” he continued. “I’ve seen what you’ve done with the plants at the shop, and I’ve seen you in the woods. Sure, it’s hard to make logical sense of it, but . . .” He swept his arm out. “I mean, look at this place. I can’t think of anything other than magic that could create something this beautiful.”

  Warmth bloomed inside her. Logan O’Connor had just given her the best compliment in the world. She wanted to throw her arms around his neck and kiss him. Sitting next to her, unshaven in jeans and a rumpled T-shirt, he was suddenly the most desirable man she’d ever seen.

  A vine from above dropped onto his shoulder.

  He looked down at it in surprise.

  “I think it likes you,” Juliette said.

  A shower of tiny jasmine flowers floated on the wind, catching in his hair.

  Odd. Her plants didn’t usually react this way to people.

  Luna padded across the grass and sat in front of them. She peered up at Logan for a few moments, then jumped onto the bench beside him.

  “Hey, cat,” Logan said, reaching down to pet her.

  Juliette started to tell him to be careful, but the warning died in her throat. Once again, her cat seemed to like him.

  Luna was purring. Purring!

  Logan stroked the back of the cat’s head like they were old companions.

  Okay, so hell had officially frozen over. Her cat, aka Luna the Hellcat, liked somebody. Somebody other than a Holloway. That last time in the woods wasn’t a fluke.

  What was going on here? First her garden seemed to approve of him, and now her cat? Something dangerously close to happiness plucked at her heartstrings. This was a little too close for comfort.

  “Was it hard growing up with it?” he asked. “The magic?”

  Juliette watched in fascination as Luna climbed into Logan’s lap. “Sometimes.”

  He scratched the cat absently under her chin, and Luna just sat there. Not trying to kill him. This was madness.

  Juliette sprang up and paced a few feet away. “When I was in kindergarten, my teacher got upset because one of the kids ripped her flowers out of the pot on her desk. So I walked up, placed the torn plant back in the soil, and kissed it.”

  “And then?”

  “And then I told it to get better.” She bent to pick up a sprig of leaves off the grass, twirling it in her hands as she walked. “The next morning when I got back to school, it was.”

  “Was your teacher glad you fixed it?” he asked.

  Juliette shook her head, saddened by the memory. She’d been so young, and wanted so much to be accepted. “She requested I be transferred to the other class.”

  “Why? You fixed her plant.”

  “Yes, I did. But I fixed it too well. It grew five times in size overnight and towered over her desk.” She bit her bottom lip, still remembering the look on her teacher’s face. Eyes wide with shock, trembling hand pressed to her chest. “I think I scared her. She was one of those straitlaced types, the kind who’s afraid of anything that can’t be explained. Even at age five, I was an enigma.” She wiggled her fingers. “The Holloway family curse.”

  “Not a curse. A gift,” he said, his hand resting on Luna’s sleek black fur. “And anyone who tries to deny that it exists is either a coward, or foolish.”

  He was suddenly too much, sitting there all gorgeous and perfect with her cat lounging in his lap. A second vine had dropped to twine around his shoulder, and he just sat there on the bench swing, petting the cat like it was nothing. Like he belonged there.

  A faded image flashed in her memory. It was so old, she couldn’t have been in school yet. But even frayed around the edges, the memory glowed with a special kind of warmth that the garden had long forgotten. Juliette’s dad sat on that bench with her mom. He was petting Luna, and they were smiling at her as she showed them her picked flowers. Juliette now saw Logan, superimposed against the fading memory of her parents. He fit so perfectly into her garden.

  It was impossible.

  She suddenly needed space.

  She needed to think.

  “I have to go,” she said quickly. “I just remembered there’s something I have to do.”

  He lifted Luna off his lap and stood.

  “You can leave that way.” She pointed to the side gate that led to the front yard. He looked like he was about to speak, but she didn’t want to talk. She had to clear her head. “Thanks for everything today,” she said quickly.

  Without another word, she whirled and took off into the woods.

  * * *

  Logan watched her go until he could no longer see her dark curtain of hair and pale long skirt among the foliage.

  He looked at Luna, who sat on the grass near his feet. “What was that all about?”

  Luna looked up at him with eerie, golden eyes. She padded toward the woods and turned back to him.

  “You think I should follow her?” Because it made so much sense to ask a cat for advice.

  The cat peered into the trees, tail twitching. She meowed only once, but that’s all it took.

  Logan set off after Juliette. Under normal circumstances, he’d leave, but something about her always made him do the opposite of normal. It was darker under the canopy of trees, but the sun still lit the sky enough to see. The scent of pine and damp earth filled the air, and he found himself b
reathing in the old familiar scents, remembering a much simpler time when he was younger.

  The past came tumbling back, and he remembered how magical the place had been for him. He used to charge through the woods with a makeshift branch as a sword, pretending to fight off dragons. Even though it had been years, Logan was still familiar with the stretch of woods. If he kept walking south, it would lead to his grandfather’s backyard.

  In the center of the woods, he came to a small stream and found Juliette sitting on a rock with her bare feet in the water.

  She looked up at him, startled.

  He shoved his hands in his pockets. “What’s wrong?”

  “I thought you were going home.” She looked down at her feet, wiggling her toes in the clear water.

  Logan tilted his head toward the trees. “If I keep walking in that direction, I will be home.”

  “I remember your grandfather’s place,” Juliette said softly. “When I was little, I used to see you guys, sometimes. I remember that summer when he built you that treehouse.”

  “You and I played together here,” Logan said. “Do you remember?” Once, when he was around eight years old, he saw her in the woods while he was playing with his action figures. He’d sized her up, decided she’d do, and held out a spaceship. She took it in her tiny hand, and for hours, they’d played in the dirt together. A couple times after that they played in the woods, in the carefree way that small children did. But one summer he brought friends from his baseball team over. The boys ran around the yard, yelling and laughing and throwing water balloons. He caught a glimpse of her standing in the trees watching him, but he turned away. She was just a baby, and he had real friends to play with.

  “Mostly I just remember you running around the yard with your friends.” She picked up a smooth stone and tossed it into the stream. “Or doing projects with your grandfather.”

  “Ah, so you were spying on me?” he teased.

  Her lips curved, but she didn’t make eye contact. Instead she ran a finger over a worn spot on her skirt. “My mother used to say that I spent more time in these woods than I did in my own house.”