by Ava Miles
The surrounding vineyards and fields were awash in purples and blues, so reminiscent of the farmhouse where Caitlyn and Beau had fallen in love.
“We pulled that match off by the hair of our chinny-chin-chins,” Clara said to her husband, who was holding her hand rather sweetly.
“Too bad Becca and Trevor couldn’t make the engagement party in person, but maybe someday,” Arthur said. “At least they have other solutions to turn to while she’s still being treated for her agoraphobia.”
Flynn, ever the techie, had rigged up some high-tech hologram that had the couple literally standing and talking in the crowd even though they were at their home in Ireland. Freaky yet wonderful.
“I love it,” Clara said. “Pretty soon we’re going to punch a button and bilocate to another place like in Star Trek.”
“I never took you for a sci-fan fan, Clara,” he said, studying her.
She gave him a pout, saying, “There are still many things you have yet to discover about me, Mr. Hale.”
Good God, she knew how to keep a man coming back for more. He leaned in and kissed her softly on the cheek, the better to smell her sexy perfume.
“It was good to see Ibrahim today,” Arthur said, Clara’s fragrance reminding him of the man they all called the Perfume Jedi. “He’s working on the men’s cologne now that Quinn has issued Caitlyn additional capital.”
“As he should,” she said with a regal nod of her head. “The wait list for Cherish is in the millions, Arthur. They’ve made a fortune, and it’s not even out yet. You know, we should try and find the Perfume Jedi someone special. Maybe April?”
While he was fonder of his nephew’s ex-wife than he was his nephew, and he’d be happy to see her matched with someone like Ibrahim, he still snorted. “He doesn’t need any help in that department, my dear. Trust me. That man’s got game. He’ll find love again, if and when he’s ready. Introductions could be made, however.”
She grabbed his arm and led him to the makeshift dance floor in the middle of the lawn. She did love her Cole Porter. “So speaks the Matchmaker Jedi. I hate it that you have a nickname before I do.”
“I’ve been quicker on my feet since you blew into my life,” he said, turning her in a circle. “Speaking of which, I hear Michaela’s ex-boyfriend has been calling her. Perhaps you should be the Terminator Jedi, beating any old loves who come out of the woodwork.”
She poked him when he brought her back against him. “Not a chance, Arthur. Besides, Flynn tells me Boyd isn’t all bad. He and Michaela had a huge misunderstanding. I have a feeling we might be helping Michaela next, what with her old beau coming back around.”
Arthur scanned the crowd, looking for the woman in question. Michaela was talking animatedly with Caitlyn and Beau and Beau’s real father and wife. Lovely people, the Garcias. Carlos had a flourishing landscaping business in a small town outside Nashville, and Beau had been bowled over to discover his father grew lavender in large pots all over his property, claiming the scent was calming to his animals, which included goats. He’d offered a home for Chou-Chou, so Beau could see the little guy whenever he’d like. After eighty years, Arthur well knew life could be wonderful and yet so weird.
“Since you’re so cozy with Shawn these days,” he said, turning her again, “maybe we’ll stay a while longer in Napa and see if Michaela needs us. It would be nice to stay stateside for a while.”
She swayed nicely in his arms but soon she pulled him into a turn. God, she was leading him. Of course, he let her. She was downright happy about it, the way her blue eyes were shining.
“Hargreaves said he was up for a more exotic adventure,” she told him, “and I agree.”
He could smell a trap coming. “It’s that flamenco guitar Beau gifted to him that’s giving him ideas, my dear.”
She batted her eyelashes at him, continuing to feign innocence. “I know, maybe we should go with Michaela on one of her nature hunts.”
When pigs flew. “You with no running water? I’d like to see the day.”
She stepped back and did a little shimmy, running her hands down her front like Rita Hayworth back in her Gilda days. God, she was a bombshell.
“Like I said, there are a lot of things you don’t know about me, Arthur Hale.”
This time he was the one who spun her out. “I look forward to learning all of them, Mrs. Hale.”
When Clara’s brother appeared for the next dance, Arthur kissed his wife’s cheek and headed for the young Merriam children. J.T. and Caroline were talking to Quinn and Connor, who still looked like they needed some serious time off. My goodness, had their Grandpa Emmits, his friend and mentor, ever looked so severe in a suit? They needed to learn to relax like their other siblings. If he had to, he’d help them along.
Oh, but he loved this new generation of Merriams. They sure knew how to party, and he knew another secret of age, one he’d divulge to Clara if she was especially nice to him.
Spend enough time around young people, and you’ll feel younger too.
* * *
Michaela couldn’t help but dance in place as she signed for the turquoise box wrapped in a sparkly white ribbon. It was pretty early for a delivery, just eight o’clock.
“Who could be sending me a present?” she mused aloud as she closed the slate gray door to her bungalow.
Man, it was good to be home. Caitlyn was heading back to Dare River with Beau to see his house in the country and get to know his friends better. Flynn was back to New York, but before too long he’d probably jet off to Europe to meet up with another model. J.T. and Caroline had gone back to Dare Valley to do museum stuff, and Quinn was probably making people cry in the conference room in London much like Connor did here at headquarters. Uncle Arthur and Aunt Clara were hanging around for a while, so she’d get to see them when she went over for one of her mother’s home-cooked meals.
She rushed into the kitchen and set the box on the counter, untying the bow. Shame to ruin it given how perfectly it was tied. Excitement drummed through her as she opened it.
Tears burned in her eyes as she beheld the rarest flower in the world: Queen of the Night. She knew who’d sent the gift before she even opened the note. Boyd.
Bastard.
She’d ignored his calls for weeks now. Like she was going to talk to him after what he’d done. But he’d never been one to take no for an answer, something she used to respect about him. Now it was like all his other qualities in her mind: questionable.
Only she knew the detailed planning required to get this large white fragrant flower to her. She’d bet this Queen of the Night was from the Arizona desert. It only flowered one night in the year, starting around eight p.m., so he must have had someone waiting to pick it at the penultimate moment and then rush it to her in California before the blooms faded. She had two hours to enjoy the flower before it died.
Seemed rather appropriate since that was what had happened to her love for him.
She studied the flower, her scientific mind kicking in. The white petals were a cluster of perfection, the yellow Orchid cactus from the genus Epiphyllum. The spines on the cactus stalks had been stripped. How kind. Like she’d forget how Boyd had turned from “The One” to a thorn in her side with his betrayal.
He’d given her gifts like this all the time in the year they’d spent together—a year she sometimes wished she could erase from the hundred billion brain cells in her skull. Rare vanilla from Madagascar. Large trumpet-shaped blue gentiana flowers from Tibet. Black turmeric from off the coast of the Bay of Bengal in India.
He wanted something. Badly.
This was too rare a gift for it to be a personal overture. This was about something else. Business. The very thing that had broken them apart seven months ago.
She opened the knife drawer and pulled out the only picture she’d allowed herself to keep after the relationship-burning ceremony she’d held with Caitlyn months ago. Usually she only allowed herself to look at it at two o’clock in the m
orning because if she were up at that hour, it was because he was still messing with her sleep. Asshole. The knife drawer had seemed an appropriate place to keep this last piece of him. He’d cut her like no one ever had, and she needed to remember that.
His easy smile used to enliven her spirit. His dark brown eyes had seemed soulful as they’d gazed into hers while they were making love, often under the stars on one of their nature trips. She’d loved to run her hands through his shaggy brown hair. Being on the road so much, he’d always needed a haircut. And his scruff had felt so delicious against her soft skin.
Her phone rang.
Of course. He’d know she’d received his present. Correction. His bribe.
Well, forget him. She returned to the box. Should she enjoy his gift or toss it out? Keep it, she decided. It wasn’t the plant’s fault Boyd was trying to manipulate her. She pulled out the flower and picked up the turquoise card. She opened it with dread.
I need you. I think I found the Valley of Stars. Pick up the damn phone.
Her harsh gasp sounded in the silent kitchen. No, he couldn’t have! For years, they’d heard whispers about a mythical valley deep in the African savannah that contained a rare flower supposedly capable of curing every disease. They’d scoured hundred-year-old travel journals, interviewed countless people. Like her love for him, it had remained a mystery.
Until now…
Could she believe him? Then she reminded herself his claim to need her was horseshit. If he’d found it, he certainly wouldn’t want to share the find with her. His betrayal had proved his ruthlessness. No, this was a ruse of some sort, a game she wasn’t going to play. He was her competitor these days, and competitors didn’t share finds this epic.
The phone started to chime again, and she mercilessly silenced it and put it on do not disturb. She tossed the card in the trash. Picked up his picture, fingering the edges, still able to feel his silky locks under her fingertips.
She looked at the garbage, ready to drop it in. But she couldn’t make herself throw it away yet. Her rage grew.
Given the way he’d betrayed her and her family’s business, she could never trust him again.
She was done with him for good.
* * *
The fun and feel good Merriam series continues… Michaela and Boyd’s story is up next, so treat yourself to VALLEY OF STARS.
Wondering how Arthur and Clara hooked back up after all these years? Their story is in my Dare Valley series in THE SKY OF ENDLESS BLUE, which kicked off The Merriams series. Hint: it’s J.T. Merriam’s love story too.
Curious about country singer Rye Crenshaw and how he went from being the bad boy of country to an honest-to-goodness family man? It’s the first book in my bestselling Dare River series called COUNTRY HEAVEN.
Interested in beginning your own personal make-over like Beau? Check out GODDESSES ARE SEXY in my self-help Goddess Guides series.
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Dear Reader,
How wonderful it was to be back with a hero who was a country music singer like Beau Masters. Never did I imagine I loved to write songs, but from the first moment with Rye Crenshaw in COUNTRY HEAVEN, I found it came from my soul. Beau, too, was a fabulous creative partner. Maybe it was me sitting in the fields with him alongside his trusty Chou-Chou. What a sight that would have been!
This book holds so many of the things I care about: family, truth, humor, love, personal discovery, and artistry. I never knew how artistic perfume was, and I was like a kid in a candy store researching and buying one essential oil after another and mixing them into magical potions as I wrote this story. To say our house was more fragrant was an understatement, and I know it will always be so from now on.
The Merriam family continues to inspire me, and I’m delighted to hear how much you love them too. Michaela will be going on a grand adventure in VALLEY OF STARS, and to check any games Boyd McClellan wants to play with her, she’s bringing along Arthur and Clara but asking them to get their chaperone on (and leave their matchmaking hats at home). I just finished watching the classic movie, Romancing the Stone, again and I have to say, this next book is my own take on a fun adventure romp with my usual feel good threads of family, love, and personal discovery. It’s going to be a fun time for us all.
Thanks again for being in our wonderful book family and continuing to embrace The Merriams.
Light and joy,
Ava
Acknowledgements
After researching master perfumers and the perfume industry, I wanted to give special thanks to Roja Dove. Like Tim McGraw for COUNTRY HEAVEN, Roja’s vision and artistry made LOVE AMONG LAVENDER even more magical. Until him, I didn’t realize perfume was about more than scent; it was about us as people and our character; a fragrance that sums us up in a powerful transmission of notes. Not only am I going to pay more attention to what I smell and what it tells me, but I’m going to see every encounter with scent as a moment of sheer majesty. Thank you, Roja, from the deepest part of my heart.
About the Author
International Bestselling Author Ava Miles joined the ranks of beloved storytellers with her powerful messages of healing, mystery, and magic. Millions of readers have discovered her fiction and nonfiction books, praised by USA TODAY and Publisher’s Weekly. Women’s World Magazine has selected a few of her novels for their book clubs while Southwest Airlines featured the #1 National Bestseller NORA ROBERTS LAND (the name used with Ms. Roberts’ blessing) in its in-flight entertainment. Ava’s books have been chosen as Best Books of the Year and Top Editor’s Picks and are translated into multiple languages.
Ava calls herself a divine rockstar, something she believes everyone is deep down. She’s a unique expression of love and joy in the world with her own special gifts: writing stories with uplifting messages, being an intuitive healer, inspiring others to uncover their authentic selves and their highest path in the world; and creating artistic masterpieces like pottery and sculptures. And then there’s the cooking… She used to be a chef and rocks food big time.
A global awakener at the core, Ava has dedicated her life to uplifting everyone on the planet. In her former career rebuilding war zones, she worked in places like Lebanon, Colombia, Pakistan, West Bank/Gaza, and Congo to foster peaceful communities. Now she’s sharing her stories of love, forgiveness, and empowerment around the world—pretty much still changing lives.
If you’d like to connect with Ava or hear more about her upcoming books, check out the links below:
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Copyright June 2019, Ava Miles.
ISBN: 978-1-949092-08-0
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form by any means—graphic, electronic or mechanical—without permission in writing from the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictionally.
www.avamiles.com
Ava Miles
Table of Contents
Title Page
Dedication
On Making Perfume
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
>
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Epilogue
Dear Reader
Acknowledgements
About the Author