The Sweetest Secret

by Jacquie Underdown

  She shoved the rest of the cupcake into her mouth and dusted off her hands. She hadn’t come through relationship hell just so she could head straight back there. She had more common sense than that.

  She peered around the room. Despite the nerves and the gut-tensing fear she had to face to take this step, move away from everyone and everything she had ever known, Ellie was filled with optimism.

  This was what life was about now—getting her store off the ground. Not some flimsy romance. And certainly not love.

  Chapter 2

  Sam stood on the footpath, arms across his chest, and unabashedly gawped at every part of Ellie from behind as she walked away. Her jeans were doing nothing to hide the shape of her body. When she disappeared inside her florist shop, he shook his head and grinned.

  A car turned into the driveway and pulled in beside him. His younger brother by a year. Tom wound the window down. ‘What are you doing out here smiling like a goof?’

  Sam shook his head. ‘Nothing. I’ll meet you inside.’

  Tom nodded as he arched a doubting brow, and drove off towards the back of the store.

  When inside, Amy smirked at him from behind the counter.

  He tried to suppress his own smile. ‘What?’

  ‘You tell me?’

  He scrubbed a hand through his hair. ‘I have no idea what just happened there.’

  ‘I have a general idea,’ she said with a teasing laugh.

  He didn’t need an explanation for what took place between him and Ellie. He knew what it was—good old-fashioned, crackling electricity, so much so that his hand still felt scorched from shaking her hand.

  But he’d have a bit of fun with Amy and try to convince himself that not one part of that interaction with Ellie meant anything at all.

  Tom charged through the back door heading straight for Amy, kissing her on the lips and offering her a sneaky wink. ‘Good morning … again.’

  Sam could read between the lines. He knew what that wink meant when attached to that jovial again. They’d had amazing morning sex. ‘All right, all right, I really don’t need that kind of obscenity.’

  Sam, however, woke up in his big bed all alone.

  Not that he begrudged Tom for falling head over heels for Amy. He’d never seen his brother happier. And after the year they all had, it was one of the only positives to come out of it. Sophie was another—his gorgeous fourteen-month-old niece.

  It had been a little over a year since his eldest brother, Mitch, lost his wife. They’d come through it, but to say there were still war wounds would be an understatement. He shooed those thoughts away—a difficult cloud to dissolve once it settled over him.

  ‘So, we finally met the florist next door,’ Amy said.

  ‘She’s nice?’ Tom asked.

  ‘Very,’ Amy said. ‘And gorgeous, isn’t she, Sam?’

  Sam shrugged, but he was struggling with that smile that kept making an appearance. What had Tom called it? Goofy. Fairly accurate description. ‘Yeah, I guess she is. I didn’t really notice.’

  But he had. Big time. Her eyes at first—the palest hazel, contrasted by long black hair cut in a blunt line just above her brows.

  Tom slapped his leg and laughed. ‘That’s why you were smiling like a loon outside.’

  Sam rolled his eyes. ‘I was not smiling like a loon.’

  ‘You were.’ Tom turned to Amy. ‘He was.’

  Ellie had the cutest stud in her nose and another just above the sweet bow of her lip. After noticing her eyes, his attention had instantly drifted there. He’d not kissed a woman with a piercing, and he was curious about how it would feel or if she had any other hidden piercings.

  ‘There was so much heat, I nearly fainted,’ Amy added, that smirk returning.

  ‘Between Sam and the new girl?’ Tom asked, looking back and forth between Sam and Amy, desperate for clarification.

  Amy nodded. ‘So hot.’

  Yes, Ellie was definitely hot. Not that Sam would use that adjective to describe her; no, he’d say something more along the lines of soft and pretty. The silkiest pale skin and a body masoned into soft curving lines.

  ‘Why couldn’t I have arrived five minutes earlier?’ Tom asked. ‘Maybe I could go over there and introduce myself—’

  ‘Definitely not,’ Amy said. ‘Meeting two members of the Mathews’ gene pool in one day would give the poor girl a heart attack. She barely made it out of here alive as it is.’

  Tom laughed. Sam chuckled. The front door chimed.

  Sam nearly snapped his neck looking to see who it was, but it was just a couple of customers. ‘I’ll head out the back.’

  He followed Tom to the kitchen, and they took a seat on the stools lining the long stainless steel work bench.

  ‘So what really happened?’ Tom asked.

  Sam shook his head. ‘Honestly, nothing. Amy let Ellie know that I might be able to supply her florist with flowers.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘And she forgot her cupcakes, so I chased her outside to give them to her.’

  Tom smiled. ‘And that’s it?’

  Sam drummed his fingers on the bench, not allowing himself to become irritated. The problem with being a long-term single was that well-meaning people always thought they had the right to become involved in bringing an end to said singledom.

  Especially when they believed that the choice to remain single stemmed from a previous traumatic relationship.

  And maybe Tom and every other meddler were right in assuming the reasons why Sam had stayed single for so many years, but that wasn’t the point.

  The point was that his life was his life. His choices were his own. Full stop.

  ‘Yep. Anyway, I’m gonna take off before this shop has me falling in love,’ Sam said saltily.

  Love and Cupcakes had earned a reputation for matchmaking over the last twelve months since Amy had been running it. So many rumours of customers meeting lovers after eating the sweet treats were making their way across Alpine Ridge and the surrounding towns.

  People from hours away were travelling to the store, hoping to prove the rumours true for themselves. Even the newspaper had run a couple of features about the shop’s matchmaking magic.

  Of course, Sam didn’t really believe it to be true, he was merely aiming to be provocative, sending an unstated message to Tom to back off.

  Tom shook his head and sighed. ‘What are you so afraid of?’

  He looked sidelong at his brother but didn’t answer.

  Tom threw his hands up. ‘Whatever. It’s your life. You insist on running away from any woman who shows any kind of promise for a long-term relationship—’

  ‘Thank you very much, Mr Relationship Expert, but no thanks.’ Sam stood, his chair scraping against the tiles.

  ‘I’m just saying, take a chance at least once in your life.’

  Christ, what did Tom imagine to have taken place in the two minutes he spent with Ellie? That Sam and she had managed to fall in love after a single and, frankly, strained interaction and now were planning to spend the rest of their lives together?

  Sam swore sometimes that his younger brother was a moron. ‘I’ve only just met Ellie. Yeah, I’ll admit, she’s gorgeous. But I don’t know her. I’ve said no more than ten words to her. Don’t get carried away because there’s nothing there. Nothing.’

  Tom shrugged. ‘Fine.’

  ‘I was going to grab a coffee, but it’s not worth the lecture. Tell Amy I said bye.’

  Sam strode out of the shop. He hated how everyone thought they knew better. Tom fell in love, and now suddenly he’s an expert? Give me a bloody break .

  The next morning, Sam stood in the vineyard repairing trusses that were broken during the recent harvest. He used the moment to prune back the older nubs on the vines, ready to sprout once spring arrived.

  His brothers were working their way through the adjoining vineyards. All the colour disappeared from the property over winter as the vines lost their leaves,
leaving exposed sturdy grey-brown branches curling around the trusses, one vine after the other, row after row, hill after hill.

  In the Alpine region, the winter months were freezing cold and most years they’d receive a light dusting of snow. But Sam loved this season—the pace was slower with the busy harvest season over and a serene quiet found the property.

  Tourists weren’t here in huge numbers during the coldest weeks either, which, when he lived on the vineyard, was a reprieve.

  A blustery wind was blowing this morning, needling through his jeans and thick waterproof jacket, so much he barely heard his phone ding with a text. He pulled it out of his pocket and checked the screen.

  ELLIE: Hi, Sam. It’s Ellie from the florist on Main Street. What’s a good time for me to come and see what stock you have?

  Sam hadn’t wanted his heart to race a little as he read it, but it had.

  SAM: How about four o’clock this afternoon?

  ELLIE: Sure. I’ll see you then.

  He grinned at his phone as anticipation stirred in his stomach. He could try to ignore it all he wanted, but it was indisputable that there was something about Ellie.

  Chapter 3

  Ellie could barely keep her eyes on the gravelly track as she wended through the vineyard. Rain was on its way, painting the low clouds in bruised greys and purples. In contrast with the endless lines of vines stretching across the fields, it was an eerily beautiful scene.

  Was she even in the right place? A glance at her Sat Nav confirmed that she was heading in the right direction.

  Eagerness sparked as she neared big sheds and the long administration building. She was both keen to see Sam and keen to prove to herself that she could have a professional business relationship with a man that looked like a dark-haired Thor without losing her cool.

  She parked and climbed out. Sam pushed through the doors of the admin building and strode across the car park to meet her. Ellie swallowed hard as she watched him swagger towards her, dressed in jeans and a thick padded black jacket.

  He was so confident. And why wouldn’t he be with that chiselled jaw and strong nose sitting above long, full lips? How could she not ogle him?

  ‘Hi,’ he said, his gorgeous browns meeting her gaze directly.

  ‘Hi.’ Her single syllable was a little breathy. A bit hard to avoid when he drew all the oxygen from her lungs with his presence.

  He pointed to a big black ute parked a little way up. ‘You okay riding with me up to my house?’

  Ellie blinked. ‘Um …’

  ‘My glasshouse is in my backyard.’

  ‘You live here?’

  He nodded.

  ‘Um, sure. That’s fine.’

  He grinned. ‘Come on then.’

  She followed him to the car where he opened the passenger door for her, then jogged around to his side. The car was clean, smelled fresh, a little like flowers, a little like aftershave.

  The engine rumbled as he twisted the key. ‘You found the place okay?’

  ‘No problem. I didn’t expect it to be so big, though. I was waiting for the vineyards to end, but they kept going and going.’

  He laughed, a deep rasp of sound that did wicked things with her body. ‘We do run quite a big operation here.’

  ‘You run all this?’

  He nodded. ‘With my two brothers.’

  It only just occurred to her then that Sam not only ran this vineyard and winery but actually owned it.

  They headed a distance along more gravelled roads towards a small double-storey brick place. The radio hummed softly in the background.

  She was trying to remain calm, but being this close to him in a confined space had her body misbehaving, as though her hormones had only just realised their purpose in life and were going all out to make up for lost time—fogging her brain, choking her words, making her heart beat erratically in her chest.

  Had her body learned nothing? How dare it still operate as though her heart hadn’t been burned to cinders by a short series of men who all claimed to have loved her until they realised they, oops! what a silly mistake, never had.

  Well, screw her body, she had the good fortune of possessing a brain that would keep on reminding her of the dangers of foolishly giving her heart to men who didn’t deserve it.

  Ellie glanced sidelong at Sam, first at his big hands as they gripped the steering wheel, then to his lap where his legs were slightly apart. She could tell inside those pale blue jeans that his legs were thick and powerful. His shoulders were broad, even more pronounced in his jacket.

  And those gorgeous eyes …

  Met hers. She looked away but didn’t miss the cheeky slant of his lips.

  ‘How long you been a florist, Ellie?’ he asked, humour lingering in his tone.

  ‘Since I was eighteen. So, eight years.’

  ‘Impressive age to be starting your own business?’

  ‘It’s all I’ve ever wanted.’

  He pulled the car up alongside the house. Ellie peered out the window past him, her focus drawn to the beautiful front garden swarming with expertly pruned rose bushes.

  They weren’t in flower at this time of year, but they were mature, healthy and strong, and would look breathtaking during the spring and summer months.

  ‘Just down the back,’ he said, leading the way along a paved pathway that curled around the side of the house. The pavers were green and mossy under her boots.

  They rounded the corner and a strong floral scent met her as they walked under an arbour crawling with purple sprays of pea-shaped hardenbergia.

  A little further along, growing in a garden bed, were tall sprigs of lavender perfuming the air with their tell-tale powdery scent.

  And behind all that was an enormous glasshouse.

  ‘Glass?’ she asked, a little shocked. She expected a small operation, but this was decent. It would take some work keeping this all year round on top of running a vineyard.

  He opened the door to the glasshouse wide. ‘It snows up here, so it saves a lot of heartache. And it means I grow certain flowers I wouldn’t normally be able to.’

  The scent of rich soil and fertilisers mixing with unique perfumes greeted Ellie as she followed Sam inside.

  Rows of shelves were lined with snowdrops and winter roses, foxgloves and begonia.

  Big metal containers filled with moist nutrient soil marked a path down the centre, planted with white snapdragons, purple violas and a myriad of pink, white, lavender and magenta fairy primrose.

  ‘Fairy primrose?’

  His responding grin conveyed he understood her question. It was poisonous, particularly if consumed, but even if it touched the skin, it would leave a painful rash.

  ‘They were my grandma’s favourite. So I just have to grow them. They remind me of her.’

  Her heart expanded all of its own volition to hear the emotion in his voice as he spoke about his grandma.

  ‘But I understand you won’t be needing them for your shop.’

  She shook her head. ‘I learned the hard way. Thankfully, it was only me that touched them and not a customer.’

  Sam laughed. ‘That would not bode well for business.’

  He led her around the glasshouse, pointing out all the different flowers and foliage he had, most in quite workable numbers for her business. Calmness settled within her muscles now that she was among familiarity—her passion: flowers.

  And, quite obviously, Sam had an enormous passion for growing them.

  ‘Why flowers? You just seem so … so …’ She gestured at his chest, wanting to say big and sexy, but the words wouldn’t come (thank God, like she needed that embarrassment).

  If he had never told her, or shown her, she would not have guessed that this big hulking man could produce such delicate beauty. ‘Doesn’t seem like something I’d picture you doing.’

  He grinned. Obviously wasn’t the first time he’d heard that. ‘It’s the way I decompress. Other people drink or go to the gym. Me, I garde
n.’

  ‘But how did that come about?’

  ‘Some of my earliest memories are of gardening with my grandma. She’d get me out with her after school or on the weekends.’ There was a softness to his voice the moment he spoke of his grandma. ‘My brothers didn’t want a bar of it, and I liked that. Because it was something she and I could do together. It was our thing. I’ve never stopped gardening since.’

  Ellie smiled, lowered her eyes because the more this man spoke, the more she liked him.

  ‘So, what do you think?’ he asked, taking a step closer, his eyes focused on hers.

  Without meaning to, the sheer size of this man swallowed all the space around her, and when they were in actuality a metre apart, it felt much more like they were chest to chest. She blinked, found it difficult to hide her shallow breaths. ‘About?’

  He grinned. ‘Would you like me to supply your florist?’

  She straightened the sleeves of her jacket, then nodded. ‘I would like that.’

  Again with the grin and the dimple and the mesmerisation. And if mesmerisation wasn’t a word before, it was now because that’s exactly what was happening.

  ‘I can drop by a price list tomorrow morning. Are you opening Monday?’

  She nodded.

  ‘I’ll do up a new list tonight. You can take a look, let me know what you think, make an order if you like. I really only do one order a week to be picked up on Sunday afternoon from here. There’ll be weeks I may not have a substantial supply, or I may be out of town for business. But I’ll let you know in advance, and we can sort another collection time out or just skip that week if it’s easier.’

  ‘Sounds good.’ She quite liked the idea of seeing him every Sunday afternoon.

  ‘And if you’re happy, you can put in orders for your favourite varieties, and I’ll do my best to grow them for you.’

  Her wide smile was unstoppable. Most flower farms she had been dealing with just grew the stock-standard flowers. Sam’s small operation was a little more bespoke and yes, intimate.

  Anticipation—a combination of both terror and excitement—for Monday zapped at her limbs. This was becoming so solidly real now that it sat in her stomach like frothy milk. She didn’t know if the sensation created was nausea or exhilaration. But either way, come Monday morning, she was going to be an official retailer. She would be opening the doors of her very own shop.