Blossoming Flower (Wildflowers Book 1)

by Vivian Winslow

  Collin doesn’t have to touch her to make her feel him. The air crackles with electricity, and their breathing is becoming uneven. Never has she had this connection with anyone. To feel so much without being touched. To want so much without being given anything but a hint of what’s to come. His left hand grasps the back of her neck gently. He tilts his face ever so slightly to the right, his eyes searching hers for an answer. Naturally she can only think of one, but each second that ticks by he’s prepared to be sent away.

  All of a sudden, it’s there—that palpable jolt that shocks them both out of their semi-conscious slumber. It’s sweet to feel desirous for someone else. It can overwhelm you to the point where you can’t think straight. Then there’s the absolute knowing that you cannot be anywhere but where you are in that moment, with this very person who holds your future in their hands. That powerful knowing makes them your god, and all you can do is kneel down and worship them that very second because it’s all you have. It is all you have. No more, no less than what there is in this space and time.

  This cannot be an unconscious thing either. To close one’s eyes and fall into a relationship without thought or consideration would not honor the other person. It can only be done, eyes wide open, with full bodily awareness of what’s to come. This is what Flor realized she’s craved. Did she know she’d want it from Collin? No. Not when she lied down next to him in bed in the motel, and not in the rain as they kissed.

  It was when he quoted Rilke and showed himself to her that she realized this deeper connection was possible. She couldn’t have known before. She didn’t trust herself to know. But that very instant is when she saw it was possible. It was then Flor wanted the potential of what could be. She wanted his soul to find hers. And this she wants more than anything else.

  Collin closes his grip around her neck and draws her to him like oxygen for his next breath. There’s nothing gentle about this moment. When you realize that you’ve found the one person with whom you can experience pure potential, you don’t hold back. It’s complete oneness.

  He kisses her passionately, making his kisses the other night seem reserved. As he watched her in the kitchen he’d decided that if he was ever going to kiss Flor again, he wouldn’t hide from her anymore. Collin runs his tongue along her top lip, wetting her the way he wants to wet her other lips. God, how he can’t wait to make that happen.

  Tiny moans escape Flor’s sweet mouth. The sound stirs his profound desire even more. He grabs her ass with both hands and lifts her legs around him, pressing his hard cock against her. One hand leaves her ass and grabs her arms, holding them above her head. He bites her swollen bottom lip, and she bites back. Collin groans, wanting to take this further than he’d ever thought he’d allow himself to go with her.

  His tongue moves in and out of her mouth before running down along the salty skin of her neck and over the top of her breasts. One lick he promises himself. His teeth close down around the top of her tank and pull down until her pert nipple is exposed. So perfect and pink and rock hard. Collin circles his tongue around it first before sucking it into his mouth.

  Flor is entirely in her body, her cunt ready to explode as he continues to press up against her. His mouth is nothing short of magical as his practiced tongue takes her to another level of pleasure. The sensation is beyond anything she can describe. For all the times she’d touched herself imagining the two of them together like this, nothing she’d imagined can even compare. It’s visceral and spiritual all at once.

  She lets out a scream when his teeth come down on her tit. He had sworn to himself it’d just be a single lick, but he’s gone further than that now. How can he stop? Collin’s left hand moves down from her ass and finds her throbbing pussy. He groans even louder, the sound raw and primeval. One finger slides up into her shorts and feels her soaking cunt.

  “Shit!” He knows if he doesn’t stop now, she’ll hate him forever. He moves his hand away.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispers, taking long deep breaths to calm his breathing.

  Flor is panting, her eyes showing her shock and confusion. He wants to stop now?

  Collin slowly releases her to the floor. She doubles over and catches herself on her knees. He steps back to give her space. He hates himself for this, but he knows he’ll regret it if he takes it further. Collin reaches out to touch her, but she pushes his hand away. “Not right now,” she says.

  “Flor, I . . . ,” he falters.

  She rises up, her arms crossed under her now covered breasts. How perfect they felt to him only seconds ago.

  “I’m not sure if I want to play this game with you, Collin.”

  Her look cuts him.

  Damn Eddie for telling me to come here. But of course he has no one to blame but himself.

  “It’s not a game,” he hears himself say.

  “Then what is it?” She asks, her breathing still heavy. She was so ready to give her body to him. The way he kissed her, Flor knew it would be incredible. It was too perfect, his touch, his lips, everything. Fate seems to want to deny her happiness at every turn.

  “It’s more than I can I let it be at the moment.”

  “Seems we’ve gone back to Monday night, haven’t we?” Flor pushes off the wall and walks out of the room.

  “Flor,” he says, reaching out for her shoulder. She shakes him off, but turns to look at him. “I came here because I like you. I like you enough that I had to see if there’s a chance you like me just as much.”

  “Did you get the answer you were looking for?” She asks, opening the door for him.

  The painful look in his eyes tells her he did.

  “So what are you going to do about it?”

  “I’ll tell you tomorrow.” Not saying any more tonight, Collin crosses the courtyard, closing the gate behind him.

  Chapter 35

  “I’ve signed them.” Collin tosses the papers onto the table.

  “Well would you look at that?” The tall, blonde woman points to his signature at the bottom of the page with a long, red acrylic nail. “You’re very own John Hancock. How long has it been, cowboy?”

  She turns her deep blue eyes toward the ceiling and pretends to count. “Three years, one month and twelve days. Give or take, of course.”

  “I needed time to think.” He sets down his cup of coffee, not bothering to take a sip first. The town is sorely lacking a decent coffee place. One thing he misses about living in Berkeley is the good coffee.

  “Three years, one month, twelve days is an awfully long time, don’t you think, Collin?”

  The way she says his name grates on his ears. He used to think she had the most beautiful voice. She could sing better than anyone he’d met and always got the lead in the school musical. Granted the pool of people he’d come across had been small given where they live, but he thought, no, he truly believed, everything about her was extraordinary.

  “I guess you can say I needed time to process.”

  “Process?” She snorts, her loud laugh, much like her voice, hurts his head. She picks up the cup and takes a sip of the steaming brew. Grimacing, she sets it back down. “It’s bitter this morning.”

  “As I’m sure it is every morning. I told you to find a better supplier.”

  “No one else complains.”

  “Because they don’t want to hurt your feelings.”

  “But you’re not afraid to, are you, Collin?”

  This time he stares back, unwilling to take the bait. “They don’t know you the way that I do, Suzann.”

  She wags a finger at him playfully and smiles, dismissing this statement as old wounds talking.

  A part of Collin can still see a bit of the young, beautiful woman he knew. Suzann was everything he wasn’t—savvy, clever, outgoing and funny. She could wind you up or down so fast you’d forget yourself when you’re around her. He felt lucky she’d picked him. But that was the part of the problem. She chose him.

  Not once did he choose her. Well, he made a choi
ce to be with her, but it’s not the same as choosing to be with someone every moment of every day. When he’s with Flor, that’s how he feels about her. And now he wants the freedom to choose to wake up next to her, to choose to hold her and caress her soft skin, and to give her the chance to choose him or not.

  Suzann reaches across the table and takes his hand. “Why now?”

  “I have my reasons. It was inevitable in any case. I wasn’t going to be able to really move on until I took care of this.”

  “Oooooh. Must mean this cowboy’s in loooove.” She picks up his hat and puts it on her head, resting her chin on her hand. “I have to say that I’m a little bit jealous that I’ve been replaced.”

  “That’s not possible.”

  She winks one blue eye at him. Her blue eyes were hypnotic once. Now all he sees are lies buried beneath them.

  “What I meant was, you don’t mean enough to me to want to replace you.”

  Suzann sits back and tosses his hat at him. “You can lie to yourself all you want, but we loved each other. We made promises to each other”

  “We were in high school, Suz. I can honestly say that I didn’t know what love was back then.” His calm manner surprises him. It used to be he’d get upset whenever she did.

  “Oh, and so now you do?” Her arms are crossed in front of her, one long leg swinging over the other. “I don’t believe it.”

  “I’m not going to argue either way.”

  “You’ve fallen for someone.”

  Collin doesn’t reply. He doesn’t want to mention Flor to her. Suzann is far too jealous a person to take it well. Then again, he didn’t take her past news so well either. At least he’s changed. Hard to imagine that Suzann has.

  “Who is she? Tell me about this mystery woman who’s snagged your heart from the depths of your despair.”

  “You’re going to mock me after what you did?” Now Collin is upset.

  She purses her bright red lips. “I-I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. You deserve to be happy, Collin. Really.” Suzann reaches out to caress his face, but he flinches.

  She raises a bony shoulder. That’s another thing about Suzann, nothing, absolutely nothing bothers her. She’s a survivor. It wasn’t so much about turning lemons into lemonade as it was taking the lemons and throwing them back. Nothing deters her, and she always got what she wanted. Almost always.

  “Why don’t you come around and see Tyler? He asks about you.”

  Collin raises an eyebrow. “I find that hard to believe. Has he met his real father?”

  “You mean Taye?” She shakes her head. “That man is so manipulative. He comes around saying he’s gonna support us and do everything for us. But then nothing. You know how it goes.” Suzann sighs dramatically.

  “As a matter of fact, I don’t, and I don’t want to know.”

  “You see, you say that, but I think a part of you still has feelings for me. You care.” She pauses to wave to a customer walking in.

  “You’re always so good at twisting things around to suit you. I don’t care about you, Suzann. Those feelings disappeared a long time ago.”

  “Then why not divorce me sooner?” She waves the papers in his face. “Three years, one month, twelve days, Collin. That’s a long time to stay married to someone you don’t have feelings for.”

  “Some disappointments are harder to face than others. You could’ve pushed for this if it mattered to you.”

  “And risk losing you for good?” She chuckles, although that once melodic laugh sounds more like a cackle to him. “Maybe I’d hoped you’d forgive me and want to get back together.”

  “I told you there wasn’t a chance in hell.”

  “But you didn’t sign the papers. What was I supposed to think? Tyler is a good kid. You could’ve been a father to him, you know.”

  “I’m no one’s consolation prize, Suzann. You don’t have someone else’s child and pretend he’s mine. That’s fucked up, even for someone like you.”

  “Like me?” She nearly screams, but tempers her voice. “I told you I made a mistake. You make it seem like I killed your mother.”

  All his anger is now on the surface. “No, Suzann, I did that when I dropped out of law school to marry you. I did that when I told her the kid I thought we were going to have wasn’t mine. I changed my life because of your lies, and it hurt more than just me.”

  Her blue eyes are immediately wet. But he’s not falling for it. Another one of her gifts—the ability to summon tears at will.

  She blinks away the fake tears and sighs again, folding the document into thirds. “Fortunately, my lawyer says it won’t take long for this to get processed.” Suzann offers him a smile. “At least you’re not trying to take half of my business.”

  Collin stands and picks up his hat. “Ripping people off by serving subpar coffee isn’t my thing. Have a nice life, Suzann.”

  Chapter 36

  “Hola, chica!” Eddie walks around the steel top bar and greets Flor. “La Brasileira linda. You know that’s my nickname for you.” He winks. “To what do I owe this visit?” He grasps her shoulders and gives a kiss on each cheek.

  “I was doing a bit of shopping and got hungry,” she replies.

  Eddie regards her doubtfully for a moment before pointing to a stool at the end of the bar, close to the door. “Have a seat.”

  Flor does as she’s told.

  “You know what you want?”

  “Surprise me,” she says. “I’m sure I’ll love whatever you bring me.”

  Eddie wraps his arms around her. “If you don’t marry Collin you have to promise to consider me.”

  The young woman laughs, understanding that it’s more a compliment than an actual proposal.

  “If you keep cooking the way you do, I don’t see how I wouldn’t,” she quips.

  Eddie heads toward the kitchen, motioning for a waitress to mind the bar. As soon as he’s out of focus, Flor notices she has a view of the entire restaurant from where she’s sitting. For a Saturday afternoon, the place is mostly filled with families and a few older couples. The noise level is at a high with screaming children and loud conversations, but no one seems to notice or care, which makes Flor smile. For a brief second, she misses her native Brazil and even Brazilians with their equally loud conversations and warm family gatherings. It makes her miss the times when her family was altogether, like their New Year’s Eve trip to Miami when she was in high school. Her entire family came up from Brazil and celebrated on Miami Beach. That was probably one of the last memories she has of when things were good.

  A slamming door and the clicking sound of heels makes Flor turn around. “You seen Eddie?” The tall, blonde woman asks. Her intense gum chewing reminds Flor of a cartoon character, an attractive one at least. Her appropriately proportioned face, with big, blue, doll-like eyes framed by dark lashes and high cheekbones would be enviable features on most. But on the blond, they make her appear too pretty, the kind of prettiness that’s as artificial as her brassy, blond highlights.

  The woman’s thin frame lacks the proportion of her face, giving her the appearance of a walking lollipop. Flor turns back to the beer the waitress had set in front of her, the sweat from the bottle already forming a ring on the bar.

  “Did you hear me?” The woman asks the waitress. “You seen Eddie?”

  The waitress gives her a blank stare.

  Frustrated the blond says, “Habla English?”

  Flor gnaws on the inside of her lip to keep from screaming at the ignorant woman who now turns her attention to Flor. Flor shakes her head as if unable to understand what she’s saying.

  As soon as the woman spots Eddie emerging from the kitchen, she plasters her red lipstick smile across her face and waves. “Eddie,” she calls, her voice blending in with the din of the crowd.

  At first he doesn’t see her. He approaches a nearby table and shakes hands with the patrons, stopping for a quick chat.

  “Eddie,” the woman calls out again, her voi
ce almost cracking. Hearing his name, he looks up from his conversation but doesn’t notice the source of the voice. Flor watches with amusement, figuring perhaps the blond was someone with whom he may have hooked up briefly but didn’t anticipate seeing a second time. His smile disappears immediately, only to be replaced by a grimace, which he attempts to mask with a grin as fake as her own. He nods at her, returning to his patrons with a genuine smile and “Enjoy your meal,” as his parting words.

  Eddie glances quickly at Flor who gives him a friendly wink to say she gets it. Things are about to become uncomfortable.

  “Eddie, baby, how are you?” She shortens the space between them with the click clack of her heels until she’s so close they can only hug in order to avoid any contact with their faces.

  “Hey, Suzann,” he mutters. “Been a long time.” He shoves his hands into the pockets of his baggy jeans.

  Flor sputters, choking on her beer. God it must’ve been bad. How could it not have been with this woman though?

  The woman named Suzann glances at Flor who’s coughing, signaling the waitress to bring her a glass of water.

  “Classy place,” Suzann comments.

  “Thanks,” Eddie replies, choosing to ignore the sarcasm in her voice. “Keeps me busy. How are things at the coffee shop?”

  “Keeping me on my toes for sure. I’m thinking about expanding the menu from just cookies and small cakes to sandwiches and what not. Real food, you know what I mean?”

  Eddie nods, a vacant look in his eyes. Must hurt a chef to hear people refer to food so indifferently. He peeks over at Flor who pretends to be reading intently on her phone.

  “Anyway, maybe I can talk to you about some of my ideas.”

  He shrugs. “Sure, I guess, although I’m not quite sure if I can help. You can email me a few of your ideas, and we can go from there.”

  Another waitress walks behind the bar to set a plate of tacos in front of Flor. “Carnitas y vegetariano,” she says.

  “Gracias,” Flor replies, taking a bite of the meat filled taco, the cilantro and spices warming the back of her tongue.