Love in Lavender: Sweet Contemporary Beach Romance ( Book 1)

by Elana Johnson

  So she couldn’t even get out of bed. How was she supposed to get herself from town to her flowers and back? Desperation nearly choked her, and the scent of eggs and orange juice turned her stomach.

  Just when she was about to press the button to call the nurse, Drew walked in.

  “Morning,” he said easily, his smile filling his face and crinkling his eyes. Gretchen’s tension fled, because Drew could help her. Drew could fix anything. Drew was talented, and strong, and capable—everything she was not.

  “I need my crutches,” she said. “Dr. Harris said I could go home this morning.”

  “You don’t want to eat?”

  She pressed her mouth into a tight line and shook her head. “I wanted to take a quick walk while I wait for the paperwork. Then I just want to go.” Her hatred of hospitals felt suffocating, and she wanted to escape this room she’d been trapped in for two days.

  He crossed the room and set a bag on her bed. “Janey put together some clothes for you to wear home.” He picked up her crutches and helped her position them. “How far do you want to go?”

  “I’m not sure.” She hated the effort it took to simply move herself a few feet. Hated that she had to do it in front of this man she’d been crushing on and hoping he’d hold her hand again. They moved into the hall, Gretchen’s breath coming quick with the exertion it required to walk.

  Her arms hurt, her good leg started to tire quickly, and she only made it around the nurse’s station once before returning to her room, completely spent. Drew slipped out into the hall while Gretchen changed, and it took her several long minutes to maneuver the cast on her foot and inflict the least amount of pain on her ribs, wrist, and head.

  She wiped the sweat from her hairline just as someone knocked. “Yeah,” she said.

  Dr. Harris walked in. “I sent a prescription for a painkiller over to Swanson’s. You should pick it up on the way home and take it religiously for the first few days.” She paused and fixed Gretchen with a stern, doctorly look. “Drew’s just told me that you’re going back home. With Dixie.”

  “I—”

  “I can’t release you if that’s your plan,” Dr. Harris said. “You can’t be alone on these painkillers, and it’s not a ten-year-old’s job to watch over you. You can’t drive. You shouldn’t be doing anything but getting up to use the bathroom for about a week.”

  Gretchen kept her mouth shut about the anniversary flowers she needed to do. She could sit on a barstool if she could get someone to harvest the flowers and drive her to her shop.

  Making a snap decision, she said, “I’m not going home,” as Drew pushed the door open and leaned against the frame. He was so handsome her breath caught in her throat.

  “Where are you going?” Dr. Harris challenged.

  “Drew’s family farm.” Gretchen switched her gaze to his. “If that’s still okay.”

  “Of course it’s okay.”

  “His step-father needs help with the lavender, and I know every inch of my granddad’s farm.”

  Dr. Harris stabbed a pen in her direction. “No lavender harvesting.” She turned back to Drew. “She shouldn’t be doing anything but resting.”

  He raised both hands in acquiescence. “No lavender harvesting. Got it.” His winning smile could charm anyone, even doctors apparently, as Dr. Harris turned back to Gretchen with a satisfied smile.

  “Then I can let you go.”

  Embarrassment warmed Gretchen’s face. She positioned her crutches under her arms and hobbled out of the room, Drew carrying her purse and personal belongings behind her. It seemed like a mile to his truck, but she made it. He put her crutches in the back and set her bags on the floor between them.

  “So.” He exhaled. “I didn’t eat breakfast either, and Duality has these amazing burritos with potatoes and eggs and sausage…”

  Gretchen produced a small, shy smile. “I like the ones with jalapenos in them.”

  “Really?” Drew started the truck and laughed. “I would not have guessed that about you.”

  “No?” She hadn’t flirted with a man in many long years, but it almost felt like riding a bike. “What else wouldn’t you guess about me?”

  He pulled out of the hospital parking lot before giving her a sideways look. “I wouldn’t have put you and Janey together as best friends.”

  “Oh, well, we’re more alike than you think.”

  “Why’s that?” He looked both ways at a stop sign before proceeding. “Because you both have kids? The single mom thing?”

  “Yeah.” Gretchen giggled. “The single mom thing. It’s a pretty strong binder.” Anyone who’d raised a child—or attempted to raise a child—on their own would understand. Anyone who hadn’t…well, in Gretchen’s experience, they didn’t understand the challenges as easily.

  “I suppose it is.”

  “So let me play,” she said, wanting to tuck her left leg under her body and turn toward him. She couldn’t, because she couldn’t lift her right leg without help, and she didn’t want to make a fool of herself any more than necessary.

  “Let’s see…you’ve lived in Hawthorn Harbor your whole life…”

  “False,” he said.

  Surprise shot through her. “Really? You left?”

  “For a couple of years.”

  “Where’d you go?”

  “Medina Fire Department.”

  “Wow, so you’re—you’re a firefighter too?”

  “Not in Hawthorn Harbor. But yes, I did the training, and I could be a firefighter if I wanted to.”

  “But you don’t want to.” She wasn’t really asking. Her curiosity seemed never-ending.

  “Do you like being a paramedic more?”

  “Yes,” he said simply. “There’s too much…devastation in firefighting. All you see is ash and destruction. With emergency medicine, I see the problems and I can fix them. Or at least stabilize them long enough for someone else to fix them.”

  Gretchen wanted to touch him, reach over and squeeze his fingers so he’d know his words were safe with her. But he was too far away, and he pulled into Duality in the next moment anyway.

  He didn’t get out right away, though. “Thank you for accepting my mom’s offer to stay at the farm.”

  “Dr. Harris wasn’t really giving me a choice.” Why couldn’t she just tell him she’d have chosen the farm?

  “I didn’t mention anything to her, I swear,” Drew said. “She overheard me talking to Roxy. That’s all.”

  “Mm-hm.” Gretchen gave him what she hoped was a flirty smile. “Maybe you’ll have to convince me by buying my breakfast burrito.”

  He returned her grin, and his dark eyes sparkled with fun and desire when he said, “Done.”

  She thrilled when he touched her arm to help her from the truck, and she knew in that moment with his skin on hers that this attraction between them was definitely dual-sided. “So I checked my schedule,” she said as he held the door open for her so she could maneuver with her crutches. “And I’m free next weekend for the Safety Fair.”

  Drew brushed her hair back off her face, gazed into her eyes, and said, “That’s great, Gretchen.”

  And it was great. Going out to the lavender farms sounded great. Not having to shoulder every responsibility for a few weeks was going to be absolutely great. And when she bit into the spicy breakfast burrito Drew had purchased for her, that was pretty great too.

  But not as wonderful and calming as the man sitting next to her, eating his milder version of the best breakfast burrito in the state of Washington.

  Chapter Ten

  Drew thought it would be easier to lift Gretchen into his arms and carry her into the house than it was watching her struggle up the five steps to her front door. When she finally made it, she was sweating and her face was an odd shade of gray.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “Fine.”

  Unable to do more, he entered first and held the door open so she could hop-step inside. “There’re a couple
of bags in the hall closet there.” She nodded to a closed door on his left. A living room sat on the right, and she moved in there and collapsed on the couch. “I just need a minute to catch my breath.”

  Drew appreciated the scent of lemons and the lived-in but clean appearance of her house.

  “Dixie’s room is down the hall on the left. Mine is on the right, but I can pack my own things.”

  Nerves wiggled in his chest, and he wondered if Janey wouldn’t have been a better choice for this particular task. He had no idea what a ten-year-old needed in the way of clothing, what shoes to bring, or if she’d like anything to occupy her time outside of the farm. He threw in jeans, shirts, socks, and the three pairs of shoes he saw sitting in the closet.

  As far as he could tell from the stack of music books on the girl’s nightstand, she liked to play the piano. He didn’t seen crayons or coloring books, novels or journals. So he grabbed the top few music books and put them in the bag.

  He found Gretchen in her bedroom leaning on one crutch while digging through a drawer with her other hand. Watching her for a moment, a rush of affection for her roared through him. She had beautiful eyes and he liked the way she held her mouth in a determined line as she continued to search for what she wanted.

  With a jolt, he realized he was staring. “I, uh, got Dixie’s stuff. I’ll go put it in the truck and be right back.”

  She startled and almost fell down without the help of both of her crutches.

  “Whoa.” He darted forward and latched onto her arm. “I’ve got you.” Electric pulses shot up his arm in time to his heartbeat and his eyes locked onto hers.

  She was completely steady now, with heat riding in her expression, but he said, “I’ve got you,” again anyway. He really wanted to have her in his arms, in his life. He wanted to know everything about her, and tell her everything about him.

  He couldn’t make his voice say a single thing.

  “Did you get Dixie’s inhaler?” Gretchen finally broke the silence. “I think she usually keeps it in the bathroom.”

  Inhaler? “Does she have asthma?”

  Gretchen nodded, her throat moving as she swallowed. Drew tracked the movement against her creamy skin, wondering what it would feel like against his fingertips, his lips. He cleared the fantasy from his mind and turned, releasing his hold on Gretchen’s arm. “I’ll go grab it.”

  He hadn’t gotten her toothbrush or anything for her hair either, and Drew added the personal hygiene items to Dixie’s bag and took it out to his truck. He leaned against the tailgate, and drew in lungful after lungful of the crisp spring air.

  He couldn’t be alone with Gretchen like that again, not if he wanted to keep her out at the farm until she could take care of herself. His face cooled, but his heart still hammered against his ribs as if he’d just lifted the heaviest weights of his life.

  Dr. Harris hadn’t said anything about the heart murmur either, and maybe her body had simply been compensating for her injuries.

  Something banged inside the house and he practically sprinted back through the front door. “Gretchen?”

  “I’m fine,” she called. He followed the sound of her voice down the hall, bypassing the one that went left and continuing into the great room, dining area, and kitchen, where Gretchen stood with ice cubes strewn around her feet.

  “I just dropped the ice cube tray,” she said.

  “I can get you a drink.” Drew hurried forward and took the glass from her hand. He didn’t need to clean up broken shards as well as water.

  “I want to get my own drink,” she said in a surly tone.

  “Yeah, well, I want a million dollars.” He tossed a smile in her direction and picked up the ice cube tray, shaking the four cubes that were still in the plastic into the glass. He filled it with water and set it on the counter in front of Gretchen. “You’re going to have to get used to someone helping you for a while.”

  “I will never get used to it.”

  Drew gathered up all the melting cubes and tossed them into the sink. He settled his weight against the countertop and faced her. “Why not?”

  “Because, in the end, only you can take care of yourself.” She drained the last of the water and met his eye with a challenge in hers.

  “Do you really believe that?” he asked.

  “Yes, I do.”

  “I think that’s really sad.”

  “Well, you weren’t left without a job, without a way to pay bills, with a seven-year-old daughter to somehow provide for.” She hopped on her good foot so she faced him. “When you go through that, see who’ll be there to help.”

  Sadness pinched behind his heart. “My parents would be there.”

  “Lucky you.”

  “Why didn’t you go back to California so your parents could help?”

  “I already told you I couldn’t go back there.”

  “But you never said why.” She didn’t have to do everything alone. She chose to.

  Gretchen lifted her chin. “I left my bag on my bed. It’s ready.”

  Drew wasn’t ultra experienced with women, but he knew when a conversation was over.

  I can’t do this.

  That was one kind of final.

  But so was I left my bag on my bed.

  Yvonne’s text haunted him as he collected Gretchen’s bag, put it in the back of the truck, and returned to the porch to help her down the steps and into the vehicle.

  When he arrived at the farm, his mom and Joel greeted them in the driveway. Joel grabbed the two bags, and his mom took over assisting Gretchen into the house. Drew trailed behind, his emotions swirling around and around themselves.

  The ride out to the farm had been filled with tension and he hadn’t known how to break it. He stepped next to his mom, who was filling coffee mugs with the hot liquid and whispered, “She can’t sleep upstairs. She can barely walk.”

  His mom gave him a look and turned back to where Gretchen sat at the kitchen table. “Here you go, dear.” She pushed the sugar bowl closer. “So we only have one extra bedroom here on the main level. Do you think Dixie would mind sleeping upstairs alone? Or she could stay in the bedroom with you. It has a queen-sized bed.”

  Gretchen sipped her coffee and took a few extra moments to answer. She wouldn’t look at Drew, and he stayed over by the coffeemaker. He didn’t want to appear too friendly out here, otherwise his eagle-eyed mother would know about his crush on the pretty florist.

  “I’ll ask her after school,” Gretchen said. “Honestly, sometimes she sleeps with me, and sometimes she doesn’t.”

  His mother patted Gretchen’s hand. “Well, you just leave everything to me. I’m so glad you’re here. It’s been so long since I’ve had someone to take care of in this house.”

  “Hey,” Joel protested as he entered the kitchen, having taken the bags up to the second-floor bedrooms. “You take care of me.”

  She laughed and handed Joel a mug of coffee. “I suppose that’s true.”

  Drew watched their exchange, glad his mother had found someone to love again. He wished he could find someone to share his life with, and his gaze wandered to Gretchen’s. Would she ever allow someone into her life? Into Dixie’s? Would she be able to rely on someone again, accept their help?

  He hoped so, and he turned away from her at the table and reached for another mug. After filling it with coffee, he nodded at Gretchen and escaped through the back door. Knowing his mother, she’d have a schedule set up for who would take Dixie to school, who would pick her up, and how Gretchen could get back and forth to her shop before he got back from feeding the chickens.

  Sure enough, when he returned to the farmhouse after taking an extra-long hour out with the animals, his mother greeted him with, “Gretchen has an anniversary dinner tomorrow night. She needs help getting the flowers in the morning, and then you’ll drive her over to the florist on your way to work.” She glanced at Drew as if expecting his perfect compliance. “Is that all right?”

 
“I guess. Can I bring the dogs out here for the weekend? Maybe Dixie could have Jess over and they could play with them.”

  “Sure, bring the dogs. What time do you need to be to work?”

  “Nine.”

  His mother turned from the stove, where she was browning sausage for what Drew hoped was her chicken and bell pepper Alfredo pizza. “Gretchen, dear, how long will it take you in the flower gardens?”

  Gretchen looked at Drew. “Depends. Do you know the difference between a daisy and a tulip?”

  Drew blinked, unsure of how to answer.

  “Oh, he’s helpless with flowers,” his mom said. “He knows lavender, that’s for sure. He knows roses. He’s good with honey.” With every word his mother said, Gretchen’s head tipped a little more, like one of his dogs trying to figure out a new command.

  “Really?” she said. “Honey?”

  “Oh, Drew here is a budding ice cream chef.” His mother seeded a green pepper, and Drew knew he’d be asking her to save him some pizza.

  “Mom,” he said. “Stop talking, please.”

  “Oh, you.” She mimed throwing the green pepper at him and laughed.

  He focused on Gretchen. “I can get your flowers. You’ll just have to boss me around a little.”

  “I think I can do that.” She grinned and ducked her head but not before he saw the hint of a blush in her cheeks. “So maybe seven-thirty,” she said.

  He groaned. “That’s early.” He usually worked out before going over to the hospital, but a seven-thirty call time for picking flowers would push his wake-up time to six.

  “I can have Dixie help.”

  “I can do it.” Drew spoke maybe a little too quickly, or a little too sharp. No matter what, he’d drawn the attention of his mother, who managed to chop the peppers into rings without even looking at them. How she didn’t cut off her fingers, he didn’t know.