by Fifi Flowers
Chapter Four…
Just like that, we pulled apart long enough for me to gather my tote-bag and light cardigan sweater from my office before rejoining my hand with the waiting man in the hallway’s hand. Linked, we walked out the front door passing a smiling Evie. Then he steered me down the alleyway next to the café to a parking lot down the way where he opened a door to a sport utility vehicle. Inside, all of the backseats were flat and dark hard plastic with a few sectioned areas lined the whole back.
“That looks like a giant plant flat like I’ve seen in the garden area at the hardware store.” I pointed to the back.
“It is. I had it custom made to transport plants. This is now a two-passenger vehicle. I have a truck for bigger items like rolls of grass, bags of soil, tools and other equipment, but for flowers and delicate greenery they need to be protected inside.”
“Are you a gardener?”
“Sometimes.” He laughed, starting the car and we were on our way, leaving the city limits, heading north of the highway.
The drive was a bit quiet… I was quiet wondering what the hell I was doing; going off in the night with a stranger… semi-stranger. He, I imagined, sensed my uneasiness and pointed out places along the way where he had worked. However, it was dark, so I couldn’t really see anything. Not to mention, we were moving at a speed that even if it had been light, would only be a glimpse, a blur. I will admit he did make me feel a bit more comfortable talking about jobs and beautifying businesses as well as houses in the coastal area with plants that were meant for the climate. He seemed to know a lot about growing plants, and I found myself lost in his words, again—poetic in nature… about nature.
Before I knew it, we pulled off the freeway and traveling toward the coast, we entered a residential area. I wasn’t sure where we were exactly, but I knew the direction of the Pacific Ocean. Parking in a driveway outside of a two story home, Basil slipped out of the driver’s seat and walked around the front of the vehicle to open the passenger door for me to exit. Smiling, I took his hand that was extended toward me and allowed him to pull me along to the front door.
“This house has been a work-in-progress since I got it a few years ago. I think I’m just about done…”
I never heard the rest of his words as we stepped through the door and I was hit by the big beautiful homey open space with exposed beams in a living room, kitchen and dining area. Large framed floor to ceiling windows and doors spanned along all of the walls before me and they had me wondering if he had a spectacular view of the ocean. I had realized that we were in a hilly area as we drove into the neighborhood.
Following him into the kitchen, I finally regained my hearing ability. “Are you hungry? I just realized or my stomach did, I haven’t eaten since lunchtime. I’d say that I kept you from eating as well.” A grin appeared across his gorgeous face that made his pale green eyes twinkle.
He was right, our make-out session had deterred me from everything, including thinking. So wrapped up in the moment… in him! “I could eat something light.”
“Light it is,” he said with a laugh, handing me some apparatus. “Put this on.” He too had an additional one in his hand. As I watched how he attached it to his head, I realized that it was a leather head band with a battery operated light on it. I laughed, he reminded me of a doctor about to do surgery. “Are you laughing at me?”
I shook my head, and donned my own. He smiled, placed a chaste kiss on the side of my cheek, and told me I was beautiful. Then he grasped a basket with sheers, cutters and a dangerous looking knife—machete like—with one hand and my hand with the other as we ventured outside. I had a feeling that his landscaping was something to be seen by the hint that the moonlight was giving off as we walked to the end or what appeared to be the end of his property. But then we were heading down wide tiered steps after he had reached up and switched on the lights attached to our heads.
“Wow! This is amazing!” Before my eyes with the help of my own spotlight, a garden was laid out in rows.
“Do you like tomatoes?”
“Love them.”
Appearing to like my reply, he let go of my hand and implored me to follow him down a row dotted with red spheres in varied sizes. “Do you prefer cherry tomatoes, grape tomatoes, or maybe a big steak tomato or heirloom sliced?” He handed me a cherry one to taste, followed by a couple small grape shaped tomatoes.
“These taste incredible. So much flavor. Fresh. Better than the ones in the grocery store.” He seemed annoyed by the look on his face when I made mention of the words grocery store. “Not everyone has room for a garden. I live in an apartment with no balcony.” His smile was back.
“Lettuce. Do you have a preference?” I shook my head making my light dart around the heavenly garden and then quickly followed him to the end of the row and down to the next level.
“I heard that I could grow lettuce in a jar at my kitchen window. I saw it on Pinterest. It showed step by step photos of cutting the bottom off and placing it in a jar of water. Not sure how long it took, but it showed how it sprouted new leaves.” I was excited to tell him something that I had learned about growing vegetables, even if it didn’t really work since I had never actually tried it.
“It will work. Like this…” I watched him bring out the machete and cleanly slice off a portion of a lettuce head. “…it will continue to grow and produce new leaves. Strawberries? Do you like them? No allergies?” he asked moving on.
Hot on his heels, I answered, “Love them and I bet they are even better from your garden…” I bet everything he touched… did… grew was better. It definitely all sounded better. Once again, he was spouting poetic words as he told me about his garden? I couldn’t even repeat them if I wanted to, he is gifted with words, and I truly am not.
Satisfied with his selections, he announced that he had found all of the treasures and reached out for my hand. I liked feeling his calloused fingers holding mine as we strolled back inside to his kitchen. “Have a seat.” He pointed to a stool stationed at a center island after kissing and releasing my hand. Then with his basket he moved around to the other side and stood in front of a large copper plated sink that already had a colander sitting in it. I watched his hands remove all of the produce and place them on the counter, next to a chopping block, before beginning to wash everything. I was quick to notice that his clean fingernails had disappeared and the dirty look which I had noticed since day one when he had appeared in my café. He must’ve come in from working outside with dirt and herbs as I remembered his scent. Sweaty, his filthy white t-shirt was stuck to his muscular chest. And his hair straggly and wet, I envisioned him running water from a garden hose over his head and shaking his hair before…
“Pansie… Pansie…” My head snapped up to see a bowl of colorful greens with cucumber, cilantro leaves, green onions, avocado and tomatoes that I could still taste in my mouth. How long had I been zoned out, daydreaming about my poetic gardener? “Ready to eat?” He seemed to be smirking at me and that look had me praying that I hadn’t murmured anything inappropriate while I was lost in my own explicit dream world imagining what lied beneath those damp clothes he wore so well.
“I’m sorry. Long day at work.” I was lying, I was not tired. Just the opposite. Everything in my body seemed to be on high alert as I helped him carry a bottle of wine and two glasses to a table just off of his kitchen under a pergola facing his magnificent garden. His ass in tight jeans in front of me had me picturing it bare walking out to pluck some fresh items for breakfast… Did he sleep nude? Did he garden nude? Bumping into a chair at the table, I caught myself from asking any more questions that might slip out. “Lovely spot, Basil.” It was the first time I had said his name.
“You said it correctly. Most people. Say Bay-sil even after I have told them how I pronounce it.” He smiled as if he were proud of me as he opened the bottle and poured the white wine into our glasses.
“Do you come from a long line of gardening experts? Plant… h
erb… seasoning name?” I was opening myself up to telling the origin of my name too—if he wanted to know that is.
“Theatre people.” He took a sip of the wine. “My father is a playwright. My mother is a Shakespearean actress. She does other plays, but she prefers William’s work above any other. She named me after an old South African born English actor, Basil Rathbone, whose favorite role to portray was Romeo. But, in all fairness, my parents do have a stunning cottage garden at their country house outside of London maintained by grounds people.” His laugh reached his spring-green eyes as he covered my hand with his and leaned close so that my heart skipped a beat. “And you, my beautiful Pansie, do your parents raise flowers?”
“I wanted to raise flowers, but I was afraid of being teased daily.” I shook my head, remembering all of the comments I heard at the nursery. “My parents do not have a garden nor do they grow flowers, they are high desert people retired to Palm Springs with a rock and cactus yard after years of running their own hardware business. I talked them into selling some plants I grew from seeds…” I was about to get completely off track when I stopped myself and blurted out what he asked. “Grandmother’s favorite flower, pansies, she had them all over her yard every year in all colors. She said they made her happy to see their smiling faces every day… Pansie and Basil… hmmm…”
“Perfect together.” His voice was soft and sexy. They matched his lips which had found mine and began to devour my mouth in a kiss that was nothing like the ones on the patio earlier and everything about my naughty feelings and thoughts developing the longer we were alone in his house. In private quarters, away from customers or nosey employees, our moments were more intense… more passionate… less innocent as I wanted so much more. It was obvious that he did too as he pulled me up from my chair and took me into his arms for the first time.
Body to body, feeling his warm embrace was pure heaven and my mind reeled trying to link poetic words to describe us. I was sure that if I asked him what he was thinking in the moment that he would have enough to write a sonnet or two. Funny, I had never been one to read or even like poetry and since he walked into my café words played in my brain. He played in my brain and I quite liked it. It had been a couple of years since anyone had come along and captured a bit of my attention. And I was certain that no one had ever enchanted me like Basil—he was one of a kind—and he scared me a little.
Chapter Five…
“I don’t know if I’m ready to be pollinated.”
“Speaking my language.” He smiled against my neck. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. We can move slowly, like a lazy sea breeze. Kissing you is more than enough, it is everything. Just let me hold you in my arms, stay the night with me and tomorrow. Let me show you my world.”
“I have to work,” I said, spearing a slice of avocado with my fork and taking a bite before I found myself pulled onto his lap, with our lips and tongues in another dance. Looking at him sipping his wine, I wished that it was a Saturday and not Monday, as the café was closed on Sundays. I wanted another day with him.
“I know tomorrow is your late day.” He paid attention to my schedule? “Maybe we can have somebody cover for you—you are the owner, after all. And if I’m not mistaken, I’m pretty sure that Marzi, or Evie, or Saylor would encourage you to take me up on my offer.”
Of course they would encourage me to do it all with him. I could hear them in my head telling me to loosen up, let him explore and nurture my garden of earthly delights. Since seeing his words on the napkins, they had been referencing sex by inventing naughty garden terms that included texting phallic produce to my phone. His words had gotten to all of us and changed the dynamic of our conversations.
“Okay. I’ll send Saylor a text, she opens up on Tuesday mornings and gets the grumpy crowd caffeinated before she does some office work.”
“Grumpy crowd?” he inquired as I typed a short but sweet message—without mention of Basil—and asked her to call in some extra staff to replace me for the day.
“Early morning people aren’t always happy to be greeting the world.” That was my diplomatic way of describing them as I received an eggplant emoji with a thumps-up one on my screen from Saylor that had me biting my lip to keep from laughing.
“What’s so funny? Something wrong?”
“Nothing.” Nothing’s wrong in the world at the moment… everything’s right in the world with you. I turned my attention back to him and he did not disappoint, capturing my mouth slowly and then more aggressively, making me moan.
“Staying?” His whispered question against my lips received nothing more than a nod. I wanted and needed far more tongue tangling before we moved on to anything more. Making out was allowing me to relax and to forget any logical protests that said “whoa, put on the brakes.”
Even breaking apart to clean up our dishes didn’t cool my body down; it was still heated and tingling with his sporadic touches… caresses and mini-kisses. And when he grasped my hand and walked me upstairs that I imagined led to his bedroom, I remained calm anticipating more.
Reaching the second floor, there was another open area with a fireplace similar to the one in the living room only this one had a lower mantel and a massive flat screen TV above it. A huge comfy-looking sectional couch took up a large portion of the room, it looked like the perfect place to settle in for a marathon movie watching session on a rainy day. I could see us cuddled up there, but we continued down a hallway with floor to ceiling glass windows and sliding doors on one side and closed doors on the other side. Walking through the only door open at the end of the hall, we entered what I assumed was the master bedroom, his room.
Dimly lit, it was a romantic room with a vaulted ceiling and the same large floor to ceiling sliders that opened onto a balcony that looked out to the ocean. Thanks to the full moon that had traveled toward the back of the house, I could see its light shimmer out over the Pacific as I stepped out onto the overhang that appeared to wraparound the entire second floor of the house on one side.
“Your view must be heart-stopping in the light of day.”
“The view of you is heart-stopping. Breathtaking, bathed in moonlight.”
He joined me, his front up against my back, and his arms caged me in with his hands on the wood railing. Then I felt what appeared to be a very nice size package pushed gently into my backside along with his lips on my neck, and I seriously thought about changing my not ready for pollination statement. Then add in his words rolling over my skin and I felt myself floating in a dreamy state.
“When I first saw you… such beauty, such poise…” Really?! I thought I was a bit clumsy when I looked up to see a tall god standing with a sunny haze behind him. And I stood up for a better look… I needed to stop my thoughts and his poetic words or I was certain to show all of my budding desire to him.
“When I first saw you I thought that you might be homeless.” That should change our conversation.
“I can see why you thought that. I was pretty sweaty, dirty. I probably shouldn’t have come in but I was in need of a strong cup of coffee before driving home. Then I didn’t have anything but pocket change on me. Not a great first impression.” Oh, but his strong arms wrapped around me and his lips up to my ear were making a great follow up impression.
“You did capture my attention. I tried to find you; changing up my route to work and back home. Your aromatic smell had me confused—you smell so good. My homeless thought vanished…”
“You liked my smell?” I could feel his breath softly grazing my cheek.
“Yes, it was like lavender, rosemary and soapy clean.” I took a whiff of him and closed my eyes delighting in his scent so close to me.
“Scarlett hooks me up.” I didn’t like the words hook up and Scarlett together, and stiffened a bit.
“Scarlett?” I couldn’t stop my questioning.
“A client who makes soaps, oils, lotions, shampoos, perfumes, candles. Probably more. She has a shop somewhere i
n La Jolla. She buys plants from me for her rooftop garden above her shop, Rhett Scarlett, the reverse of her name.” His words were calm, soothing, and didn’t hint at irritation for my questions.
“Scarlett Rhett? Seriously?” He nodded with a smile pressed to my cheek. “Interesting name. Her parents must have been Gone with the Wind fans.”
“I’ll have to get the address and take you there. You might find something special in her shop, a certain scent.” His voice was returning to a more sexy tone. “I remember you mentioning that you love the smell of citrus fruit blossoms…” He was obviously paying attention to my conversations in the café and I wondered if he had written things down in his notebook about me. “…Although I like how you smell.”
I laughed nervously. “We’re sniffing each other like dogs.”
“I’d be sniffing your bum if I was a dog.” Back to suggestive words and kisses to the exposed part of my shoulder.
“Bum?!” I laughed a little. “Your English side pops out from time to time. I noticed it earlier when you told me to toss stuff in the rubbish bin. It almost makes trash sound fancy.”
It was his turn to laugh. “Yes, lovely,” he said with a definite accent as he turned me in his arms. “Much better,” no accent, “I love to look into your eyes, gaze upon your face, the moonlight adds to your heavenly look.” Seriously, what man spoke like that and had the moves to follow them up? I was in deep trouble with him and I knew it as he captured my lips with his and walked me backward into his bedroom, straight to his bed. To pollinate or not, that was the question? He must’ve read my body language that exhibited hesitant movement. “Nothing more than a snuggle, I promise,” eased from his lips against mine.
Relaxing into the kiss, meeting his tongue stroke for delicious stroke, we somehow fell onto a soft mattress and became entangled within seconds. Rubbing up against each other with roaming hands we managed to rid ourselves of nothing but undergarments. How that happened and how fast was a blur, but the feel of our skin connecting was not forgettable. His firm, taut body pushing into my soft, yet, toned parts felt so right that it was as if we were in a dream. Surreal, that I had never thought about every sensation thanks to poetic words whispered intimately from Basil’s incredible mouth. Petals, silk, velvet, fragrant, love… yes, he was quite fond of that word and used it often. If not for him putting on the breaks, turning us so that my back was to his front, encouraging us to sleep, I would’ve been deflowered. It didn’t matter that I was no longer a virgin, I just knew by the way he caressed me in all the right places that pollination with him would mean so much more than it ever had. But not one to push myself on him, I melted into his body and fell into a deep sleep, safe in his arms until the morning light, and a warm pair of lips kissed me awake.
