Blossoming Flower (Wildflowers Book 1)

by Vivian Winslow

Flor forces a slight smile. “Sometimes you don’t have a choice. I’m sure it’s different for you and Collin. At least you’ve been able to share your work with him. You must have a unique bond.”

  “Hmph,” Gary scoffs. “That boy is as stubborn as they come.”

  Flor shouldn’t be surprised by the silence that follows, but she can’t help but want to know more. “How so?” She asks.

  “He was always good in school. Top of his class. If he wasn’t with horses he’d have his nose buried in some book. I always told Marjorie that he got the best of both of us.” Again, a pregnant pause. Or perhaps he doesn’t want to say more. Flor’s heart begins to beat a little faster. Now Collin is front and center in her thoughts, and these pieces Gary is giving her are filling in the puzzle.

  Finally he continues, “You never know what you’re going to end up with when you have a child. You can hope for a lot of things, but nothing prepares you. With the good always comes the bad. He was a good kid, don’t get me wrong. Rarely in trouble, but he would just get so fixed on things, on ideas and not let go.”

  “But can’t that be a good thing?”

  “Sometimes. But when you lack the discernment to recognize what’s good for you, it can end up hurting.”

  “He seems like he’s doing well,” Flor says casually, trying to mask the intense interest she’s feeling.

  “Collin’s lucky he inherited his mother’s good looks. Hides what a mess his life is—no grasp of his future, just living for the moment. It worries his mother and me quite a bit.” Gary shakes his head. “I’m sorry, Flor. I didn’t mean to go on. It has nothing to do with you.”

  The picture painted for Flor is so unlike the one of Collin she’s painted for herself. “He has his work here. And you mentioned he’d gone to college. I’m sure he’ll figure things out,” she offers.

  “Like I said, the hubris of youth is to believe time is infinite. Despite his grades, he dropped out of law school. It was his dream to practice environmental law. He promised he’d return to school once he sorted out some things, but it’s been three years. Marjorie and I have all but given up.”

  “Don’t you like having him here? He seems to be making a positive contribution.” Flor doesn’t have to, but she feels some need to defend Collin.

  “Of course he is. It’s a comfortable life for him because it’s what he knows. You’re smart, Flor. You’re brave enough to experience different places and meet new people. It will serve you well. I could never get my son to travel with me when I’d go work in Europe or in Brazil.”

  Brazil?

  Flor doesn’t respond right away. Her silence is a relief to Gary, who can’t believe he would be so careless as to mention her native country.

  She dips her hand in the cool water and swirls it around. “I think he’s lucky to have parents who care about him. Whatever he’s going through probably won’t be permanent because he has people who love him.” Would she consider herself one of those people? She wonders. She would’ve considered it a distinct possibility the other night, especially after that kiss. Perhaps Gary’s right. Looks can be deceiving. In the case of Paco, she’d agree. With Collin, however, it doesn’t fit.

  Flor stands and hands her pole to Gary to bait the hook. There are too many thoughts rolling around in her mind. She wants to find that clarity again. As soon as he returns the pole she says, “Brazil is an interesting place for an American horse trainer to visit. Did you meet a lot of people while you were there?” She casts out her line, the move more fluid than before.

  She looks back at him, still sitting on the rock.

  “It was a long time ago, but from what I can remember, everyone was very nice,” he finally replies.

  “Marchadors are quite different from the horses here in the U.S.”

  “If you say so. Although I have to say that the type of horse doesn’t define its differences as much as its disposition. I just came to prefer Marchadors because they’re graceful but strong horses and much more easy-going as a whole than others.”

  “If you like Marchadors, then Brazil is the place for you. Where did you say you went in Brazil?”

  “I didn’t.” Gary casts out his line again. “I flew into São Paulo, and then took a small plane a few hours. Couldn’t tell you if it was north, south or what.”

  Or what. She can tell he’s avoiding specifics and decides to let it go—for now. “Did I ever mention that I was born in Brazil?” Flor says.

  “No, I don’t think you did. Isn’t that something?” Gary says, appearing surprised. “Beautiful country.”

  God he’s a terrible actor.

  Flor nods. “My family has a ranch just a short plane ride from São Paulo.”

  Chapter 34

  “If you’re here for a booty call, you missed your window by about an hour,” Flor says, wiping her eyes. The warm day had given way to a humid evening, clouds obscuring the usual display of bright stars. She leans against the wall next to the gate and ties up her long hair, a few wayward strands sticking to the sweat on the back of her neck.

  “You don’t by any chance offer a grace period?” Collin smiles.

  Flor shakes her head. “I don’t know you well enough.” As soon as the words are out, she can’t wish them back. She meant it as a joke, but the truth behind the statement is too present too ignore. They surprise her as much as they do Collin. Her eyes widen, and his smile disappears.

  “I didn’t mean to disturb . . . ,” he begins. “I came by because we haven’t really had a chance to talk since . . . .” Collin clears his throat, “since the other night.” That was Monday, and now it’s Friday.

  A whole four days. At first Flor wondered if it should bother her that he didn’t seek any time to be alone with her after it happened. The day after he left without warning and didn’t surface until late Wednesday. Since then, he’s been back to his former, reserved self. It made her wonder if it was all in her head—their attraction, that is. Maybe she had pushed him a bit too far, revealing her feelings for him. That was harmless enough, right? And perhaps it was harmless still for him to see if he felt the way she did. At this point, they could both go their separate ways with little on the line. At least that’s what Flor’s telling herself.

  Her eyes rake quickly over him. He’s showered and dressed more like he had been the other night in distressed jeans and a t-shirt. It’s hard to believe that this man is as flaky and irresponsible as his father makes him out to be. He seems solid to Flor. So much more grounded in his life than her. At least he knows what he wants. She cocks her head toward the house. “Do you want to come in?”

  Collin follows her through the courtyard and into the house. When they reach the foyer she asks, “Would you like something to drink? I don’t have anything but water. I was planning on going to the market tomorrow.”

  “Only if you’re getting something for yourself.”

  She can’t imagine why he’d be acting so nervous. Gone is the confident guy she drove with to Montana. The man next to her is a bit off, still gorgeous but not himself. Or perhaps more himself than before. How will she know?

  “The house has an interesting layout,” Flor says, chattering away in an attempt to ignore the awkwardness between them. “The kitchen is this way. Far from the bedrooms, which I like, although a bit inconvenient when you get thirsty in the middle of the night.” What the hell am I saying?

  She tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear before reaching into the cupboard for two glasses. Flor takes her time opening the fridge, hoping the quiet will compel Collin to say something, anything. Unfortunately, he seems as accustomed to silence as his father. When she turns back around, he’s on the other side of the large island, arms wide, hands resting on the countertop.

  For a moment she doesn’t move. By his posture, Flor can tell his confidence has returned, and she’s reminded of her strong attraction to him. She crosses the kitchen slowly and sets the glass down in front of Collin, careful not to touch him. As much as she w
ants to kiss Collin, it doesn’t seem right. She has too many questions. For starters, why did he drop out of law school?

  The look on Collin’s face makes Flor realize she had said it out loud.

  “Who told you about that?”

  “Your father. We went fishing yesterday, and he mentioned that you had been interested in environmental law.”

  “Had being the operative word,” he replies, the muscles in his jaw tense. “What else did he say?”

  Flor places her hands on the dark granite counter-top, mirroring Collin’s position,. “That you were a good student, and he couldn’t understand why you’d give up your dream.”

  “It was more his than mine.”

  “Is that what you were referring to the other night when you were talking about making someone else’s dream your own?”

  “In part,” he says.

  “And the other part?”

  “Does it matter? I like my life and what I do. Being a disappointment to my father is something I have to live with, and I can accept that if it means doing what makes me happy.”

  Flor bites her lip. That’s what she’d expect to hear coming from him. It fits with the person she knows him to be, even in the limited time they’ve had together.

  “Anything else you’d like to know?” The cowboy’s tone is light, but he can’t completely hide his irritation.

  “Does it bother you that I asked?”

  Collin quickly shakes his head. “Not at all. It bothers me that my father would talk to you about me.”

  “Why wouldn’t you want him to? I think deep down he’s proud of you. He just seems worried about you, that’s all. He implied that you’re unclear about what you want out of life.”

  “Back to your favorite topic.”

  Flor smiles a little. “That’s probably because it’s a big theme for me right now.”

  “I seem to remember one thing that you said you wanted.”

  Those words reach her exactly where he intended them to. Flor’s pulse quickens ever so slightly, her sticky skin warming all over. Her eyes fall on his mouth, that very fine mouth that felt so incredibly good on hers four nights ago.

  Collin begins to move around the island, keeping one hand on the counter-top.

  “So this is a booty call,” she says. “Do you really have so little respect for me?”

  This time it’s her words that stop him cold. “N-no,” he stammers. “I didn’t come here for that.”

  Flor raises an eyebrow at him. She wouldn’t have minded if he’d had, if only he’d be honest with her.

  He closes the space between them. Collin’s standing so close she’s forced to tilt her face up slightly to look him in the eye.

  “Why then did you come here so late at night? Did you want to watch TV together? Play Monopoly perhaps?” She asks.

  “Do you even have Monopoly?” He replies, his voice hoarse.

  Flor nods. “In the library. We should play some time,” she whispers.

  “I would love to play with you.”

  Ugh, the way he says that.

  He runs a long finger down her neck to the soft middle where a few drops of moisture formed. Desire spills over until they’re both consumed by it. It’s too much for Flor who can feel it deep in her sex. He appears less fazed, but maybe he’s just better at hiding it than she is. Which, of course, begs the question, is there something else he isn’t telling her?

  “I should show you the rest of the house,” she blurts out. Flor takes a step back, just far enough to not feel his warm breath on her. She immediately recalls being in the creek, the moment when she was able to push Collin out of the center of her consciousness and gain enough distance from him to see him clearly. Flor lets out a long exhale and turns to leave the room.

  “When was the last time you were in this house?” She asks as they walk along the long corridor. Her bare feet make little noise on the cool tile floors. “It’s amazing how well it keeps out the heat.” Enough blabbing, she chides herself. Fortunately, they reach her favorite room before she can say anything else.

  “If I could live anywhere for the rest of my life it would be here, in this room.” She smiles at Collin. “I hope your mom and dad don’t mind, but I moved a few things around,” she says pointing to a chaise that she had relocated near the French doors. “There’s a fabulous sky view so I like reading there at night.”

  The cowboy notices a few other changes but doesn’t acknowledge them. Instead he moves toward the chaise and picks up a book that Flor had left opened, face down. “You like Rilke?”

  Flor nods. “From what I’ve read. A friend sent it to me when I arrived here.” Describing Poppy Baron as a friend is a bit of a stretch, but a better word escapes her at the moment.

  Collin says nothing. He flips through a few pages and then stops when he reaches a passage and reads it aloud. Or so Flor thinks until she realizes that he’s not looking at the page. As soon as he stops, she says, “Well, aren’t you full of surprises. I’m not sure if I had you pegged for a poetry lover. I’m starting to like the things I’m learning about you.” She rests her hands behind her and leans against the opposite wall. “Tell me something else I don’t know.”

  Collin returns the book to the chair. Flor notices a serious expression on his face. “It’s late. I should go. I’m sorry for interrupting.”

  “I’m not. I was beginning to wonder . . . ,” the young woman hesitates.

  “About what?”

  Her right shoulder goes up and down. “About you. That kiss the other night.”

  “What about it?” Collin stands in the middle of the room. It symbolizes for Flor how he’s been in her mind—at the center of it. She waits, wondering if her silence will compel him to move or say more.

  A heavy thumping begins in her chest. She shifts her weight from one leg to the other. Flor loves the comfort of the library, especially now. It keeps her rooted when what she really wants to do is walk up to Collin and relive the other night. The temperature in the room seems to be rising, or maybe it’s just her. Beads of sweat on Collin’s forehead tell her it’s not.

  “Did you like the kiss?” He finally asks.

  She nods. “Did you?”

  Collin nods, holding her gaze.

  This is entirely new territory for Flor who’s never held out on her feelings of desire for someone. Since Enrico, she decided that if the person she wanted also wanted her back, then there was no reason not to act on it. Everyone is satisfied, and no one gets hurt. But with Collin, there’s so much more on the line. Perhaps deep down it’s because she knows he has the power to hurt her. It’s humbling to acknowledge it.

  Before he showed up tonight, she had been trying to find some inspiration in the book she was reading. Love can come in many forms, and in this case, maybe it’s just unrequited. It didn’t feel that way Monday night, yet things and people can change in the blink of an eye. She knows that.

  And that’s what she was coming to accept when she heard the bell. The sight of him standing there on the other side of the gate had all but obliterated her resolve. She can see he wants her. The intensity of his gaze, his mere presence tonight conveys all that. But is it enough? Will it sustain her the way she wants it to? She asks herself. That much Flor doesn’t know. And she’s not exactly certain how she can determine it, except by taking that leap.

  Flor gulps. Once more, being around him is making her face her fear. The fear, in this case, of being disappointed and hurt. Then again, what’s worse? The disappointment of not being loved, or not trying?

  “Did you come here tonight to kiss me?” She asks.

  Again the cowboy nods. His jaw is taut, keeping his words contained.

  “I want to hear you say it,” Flor commands.

  Collin stares back, his hands on his hips. “I want to kiss you, Flor.”

  Her pussy quivers at the sound of his voice, his confession. How badly she wants to give in, but she wants even more than that from him.

  �
��Why did you wait all week? Why did you act as if it never happened?”

  Collin lets out a breath and looks down at the floor. “I needed to see . . . .”

  “See what?” She demands.

  “If it was worth it.”

  “You mean if I’m worth it,” Flor corrects. His words sting, but she has to appreciate his honesty.

  “Yes. No. I mean, not in the way that that sounds.” Now he moves. His steps are tentative and slow. Collin’s giving her the chance to stop him, but she doesn’t. He knew she wouldn’t, not if she feels even half of what he feels in the moment. It’s too much to contain at once, it’s that powerful. He thought of nothing else over the past few days but Flor. The entire round trip to Woodland was spent in the echo chamber of his mind, his feelings versus the possible consequences if he were to act on them. He tried. God knows he tried.

  But exercising all the willpower required was exhausting. By the end of the week, it was all he could do not to show up at her doorstep. Instead, he went to see Eddie. He should’ve known his friend wasn’t going to help. Help being relative, since he succeeded in talking Collin into visiting her that night. “Ignore the possibilities for happiness, and you’ll only invite misery into your life,” he had advised Collin. Eddie’s always followed his dreams, and he’s the happiest person Collin knows.

  And it was those words that he was repeating to himself when he pressed the buzzer at her door, secretly hoping she’d be asleep. At least he can say he tried, right? He justifies to himself.

  But when she opened the gate, dressed in her fitted tank top and short shorts that hugged her hips, his mouth went dry. All the reasons his father gave him didn’t seem enough. Her smile reminded him of their trip, her sense of humor, her grace. Flor isn’t a danger to him or his family. She’s a gift, one he’d rather cherish than discard.

  There’s no space between them anymore. Despite the excitement radiating beneath her skin, Flor is composed on the surface, like a brewing storm that still doesn’t know exactly when it will strike. At some point, it will stir up every emotion she’s felt over the past several weeks and overwhelm them both.