Secretly Smitten

by Colleen Coble, Kristin Billerbeck, Denise Hunter, Diann Hunt

  He entered the steamy greenhouse, the scent of sweet flowers and loamy earth assaulting him. The air, thick with humidity, was warmer.

  He looked down the narrow aisle. “Clare?”

  He advanced down the row. Flowering plants of all kinds burgeoned from upper and lower shelves, blocking his vision. Tropicals, orchids, all kinds of plants that would die under his care. Under Clare’s touch, the exotic petals bloomed in vibrant colors, and lush foliage overflowed from plastic green pots.

  “Clare?”

  Why didn’t she answer? He reached the end of the row and turned down the next. He spotted her halfway down, swaying, her hips sashaying back and forth. Wires from her earbuds led down to one of her overall pockets. In between her bebopping, she checked the soil of a flowering plant, then belted out the chorus of some country tune.

  He’d never heard the song, but he knew off-key when he heard it. His lips twitched.

  “Clare,” he called as he advanced, not wanting to startle her. She must have that thing up loud. She stopped singing long enough to examine a ruffled yellow flower, frowning at the petal.

  Too much water. Clare removed the planter tray from the hibiscus pot and turned to dump it.

  A man stood in her path.

  She screeched. The tray went flying, the water with it.

  She pulled her earbuds out and pressed her hand to her chest, her heart thudding violently against her palm.

  She closed her eyes. “Ethan. Good grief, you scared me silly.”

  “Sorry.” His hands squeezed her upper arms. “I’m sorry. I tried to get your attention, but—” He gestured toward the wires dangling from her pocket.

  Her heart slowed as the past several seconds rewound to include her little talent show. Great.

  She shrugged out of his grip. “What are you doing here?” So what if she sounded perturbed.

  He had the grace to look chagrined. “Left something here, saw your truck.” He started to say something else, then closed his mouth.

  “So you thought you’d sneak up on me and scare the tar out of me for fun?” A bit of humor had crept into her voice.

  He shrugged, his eyes puppy-dog wide. “I was bored.”

  Despite herself, she smiled. “Next time find your own entertainment.”

  “I don’t know. That was pretty entertaining.”

  She shot him a look. A familiar tune swelled from her earbuds, a gentle guitar riff, the warm sound of a fiddle. “Oh, you have to hear this.”

  She put the bud up to Ethan’s ear. “It’s Sawyer Smitten’s latest hit—he’s a hometown boy.” The song was popular nationwide, but in Smitten it had become their love anthem, playing in the coffee shop, in the bookstore. Even her grandma and aunts played it on the square.

  “Have you heard it?”

  He shook his head, listening, as Sawyer began singing, his voice soft and mellow.

  I was a man without a place

  To call my own

  Before you came

  You were everything I longed for

  Everything I need,

  You gave

  As the fiddle swelled, Ethan’s eyes locked with hers, flashed with something. She got the message loud and clear. He could’ve written the words himself.

  Her arm suddenly weighted, she lowered the earbud before Sawyer could start crooning about how smitten he was. Her breath had stopped, stuffed in her lungs despite the oxygen-rich environment.

  Ethan took a step closer.

  She couldn’t look away. Her heart rustled, a dry leaf trapped against the lonely corners of her chest. His eyes said so much, and she was suddenly hungry to hear it all. They slid down to her lips an instant before he touched her face. Just a whisper of a touch.

  The nerves sparked to life beneath his thumb, sending fire through her limbs. He threaded his fingers through her hair, wakening every cell. A wanting kindled inside, so strong and undeniable she was helpless against its power.

  “Clare,” he whispered just before his lips took hers.

  His touch was soft and warm, his lips lingering over hers in a way that made her impatient. Her hands trailed up his chest, around his neck, found home in the softness of his hair.

  He deepened the kiss, and her knees buckled. His arm came around her, pulling her closer, just in time. She sank into his weight.

  This was it. The way kisses were supposed to feel. Have mercy. How had she lived without it so long?

  Her hands found the scruff of his jaw and delighted in the roughness against her palm. She inhaled him, piney, musky, all man.

  Ethan. He’d managed to reach into her deepest places, warm her through. She wanted to stay right here in his arms. Her body had found its home.

  Home.

  Something about the word tugged at her. Tried to steal her from the rapture that had swept her away. She resisted the pull. Surrendered to Ethan’s touch, to the blissful current coursing through her veins, to the heady emotions swelling inside.

  Home.

  That word again, a pesky fly. She tried to shoo it away, but it returned, bringing other words.

  Missionary. Drifter. Tent.

  Risky.

  The reason she’d turned him down. Why she’d put distance between them. And now she was kissing him—feeling things for him.

  She pushed at his chest and a whimper escaped her lips.

  His eyes were dark with wanting, shadowed with something vulnerable that tore through her. Those feelings stirring inside her were returned. She felt heady with the knowledge.

  Space. She needed space. She stepped away.

  He reached toward her. “Clare . . .”

  “No, don’t.”

  His hand hung there a minute, then fell to his side.

  She tried to formulate words. Nothing coherent emerged. She couldn’t think when he was looking at her like that.

  “Let’s give this a shot,” he said.

  Desire to do just that coursed through her, so strong, the pull almost sucked her under. Despite the need, maybe because of it, she shook her head.

  “I care for you. I think you care for me too.”

  Was it the passionate kiss that gave it away? She choked back a crazed bubble of laughter. He was going to think she was insane.

  His brows drew tight. “I’m not just a drifter, Clare. There’s more to me than that.”

  “I know that.”

  “Then give us a chance.”

  Chance. The perfect word for it. “I can’t. I’m sorry, I just . . . it’s not going to work.” Her throat ached at the words, at the look in his eyes. She hated that she was hurting him. Wanted to reach out and smooth the frown between his eyes.

  She balled her hands into fists, crossed her arms before she started something she couldn’t finish.

  The look in his eyes changed, the hurt morphing into something else. Something shifted. A shadow flickered in his jaw, his lips thinned. He straightened, pocketed his hands. The cord of tension running between them seemed to tighten unbearably.

  “For someone who wants love,” he said softly, “you sure know how to run from it.”

  She frowned. “I don’t.” That was ridiculous. He’d known her a grand total of two months. Sixty days. “I do want love.”

  “You might have to leave your comfort zone to get it, honey.”

  The words chafed. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “How many men have you broken up with, Clare?”

  She sucked in a breath, her own feelings shifting. “That’s not fair. They weren’t right for me. And Josh broke up with me, remember?”

  “Because he thought you were boring? You’re not boring, Clare. You’re just scared.”

  No. That wasn’t true. He was wrong. She wanted to be loved, yearned for it, even. Clare shook her head.

  “Scared of following your dreams, scared of seeing where this might go, scared of doing anything that might shake your world up a little. Shoot, you can’t even make a simple change arou
nd here without—”

  “I said I’d do it later.”

  “Later, when? You won’t do it because you’re afraid of change.”

  She didn’t want to talk about this anymore. “The kiss was a mistake.” Maybe hiring him had been too.

  “You like the safe little world you’ve created for yourself. Well, keep it up and you’re going to find tomorrow and every day after that a carbon copy of today.” He paused. “But at least you’ll be comfortable.”

  The words traveled to her core and scored a bull’s-eye. Her eyes burned. That was so unfair. She’d thought the distance she’d put between them had protected her heart, but it hadn’t. There was only one way to do that.

  “You need to leave, Ethan. Just go away, and while you’re at it, don’t come back.”

  He flinched. The look in his eyes softened a moment. Long enough to make her regret her words. Too short to take them back.

  “Whatever you say, boss.” He turned to go.

  She heard his footfalls on the pavers. Heard the squeak of the door opening, the clicking as it closed. Then she heard the quiet, lonely sound of her heart breaking in two.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Clare forced down her last bite of birthday cake and settled back on the patio chair. The party had flowed outside the coffee shop, her friends and family enjoying the mild July night. Music flowed from the speakers, laughter from nearby tables. Her favorite flowers, Coral Fay peonies, were clustered in iridescent vases at the center of each table, sweetening the night air.

  The party was finally winding down. Across the table William wiped a crumb from Zoe’s lip, then bent down for a playful nip. She never would’ve put those two together in a million years, but look at them. So in love.

  Next to them, Ryan curled his arm around Tess’s shoulders and whispered something in her ear that solicited a secret little smile. At least something good had come from the dog tag mystery. Their search for the truth had led Tess to Ryan’s attic and straight into his arms, and Clare couldn’t deny the couple was meant to be.

  Across the room Anna and Michael served the last slices of cake. It was nice seeing her mom learn to trust again with someone patient enough to earn it. She couldn’t think of anyone who deserved a happily-ever-after more than her mom.

  Clare looked away, their shared smiles rewarding and painful at the same time. Griffen and Reese huddled at the next table, Natalie and Carson served coffee together, Shelby and Nick Majors laughed at something his daughter, Willow, said.

  Was she the only one alone? No, she thought, spying Grandma cleaning up the wrapping paper over in the corner. Not the only one. Clare watched her, working diligently, holding her back as she bent over to retrieve a bow. She wondered how hard it had been for Grandma since Grandpa had passed, how lonely. Surely being single would feel even lonelier after being married so many years. Rose had found love twice and had lost it both times.

  Her eyes continued to sweep the room and found Aunt Petunia chatting with little Sophia. Aunt Violet had left town on some kind of bicentennial business. She’d hoped to return in time for the party but had called to say she’d been delayed. Between Aunt Violet’s and Ethan’s departures, the nursery had been a madhouse the past three days. Clare had dropped into bed exhausted each night, glad for the oblivion of sleep.

  Ethan. She sucked in a quiet breath. She’d been trying so hard not to think of him. Especially today. It only made her feel hollow inside. She’d told him to leave, and he had. Why wouldn’t he, when she’d given him no reason to stay?

  The backs of her eyes burned.

  She stood quickly, making Zoe jump.

  Clare grabbed her mug. “I’m going inside for a refill.”

  “I’ll get it,” Tess said, already halfway out of her chair.

  “That’s okay. I need to use the ladies’ room anyway.”

  The inside of Mountain Perks was blessedly quiet. Only the trickle of music and chatter coming through the walls broke the silence. She just needed a few minutes alone, then she’d go back outside and face her thirtieth birthday again.

  Knowing Nat wouldn’t mind, she entered her cousin’s office and tugged on the lamp chain. She sank into the plush chair that faced an antique desk. Nat’s desk sported neat piles of paper, a top-of-the-line computer, and a photo of her with Carson and Mia on their wedding day.

  Her thoughts returned to Ethan. Despite her efforts to forget him, he was there all day, his words eating at her while she pruned, while she shoveled, while she loaded. At first she’d refuted them. He was wrong, hadn’t known her long enough to see so deeply inside her. Sure, they’d spent hours together, but if it were true, she’d know it. Her sisters would know it, and goodness knew, if they knew it they would’ve told her, especially Zoe. No, Ethan didn’t have a clue. He’d been hurt and had lashed out, just as she had when she’d told him to leave.

  That reasoning had worked for the first day and even the second. But the third day, as she’d been going through her daily routine exactly the same as she had every day for as long as she could remember, a finger of doubt had tapped her softly on the shoulder.

  Is it true, God? Am I really afraid of change?

  Was she so snug in her comfort zone that she ran from love, something she desperately wanted? She couldn’t deny that she’d seen Ethan as a risk. Was that the same thing? Or was that just being smart?

  A light knock sounded on the door, and her mother entered. She looked beautiful in a shimmery silver top. The color made her gray eyes pop.

  “Everything okay, honey?” Anna asked.

  Clare smiled. “Just needed a few minutes.”

  Her mom stepped inside and perched on the edge of the desk. “There’re a ton of people out there.”

  “Nat was nice to let us have the place for the night. Hope we didn’t scare away all her business.”

  “She was happy to do it. She loves you. We all do.”

  Anna had seen right through the smiles. “I know that, Mom.”

  She tucked her sideswept bangs behind her ears and studied Clare. “You miss him.”

  Clare didn’t want to go there. “Well. The nursery’s been busy, and with Aunt Violet gone too, it’s been a little crazy.”

  Anna’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. “That’s not what I mean.”

  Clare knew exactly what her mother meant. And doggonit, she was right. Clare didn’t like it, but she wasn’t going to lie to herself. “A little bit.”

  “I think maybe a lot. I can’t believe he just left like that, without notice or good-byes or anything. I didn’t think he was that kind of person.”

  So Clare hadn’t exactly doled out the details to her family. She hadn’t seen them since Sunday, and she’d done nothing but work and sleep. And fret.

  Clare cleared her throat. “I, uh, kind of told him to go.”

  Anna’s brows rose. “Oh.”

  The confession made those last moments with Ethan replay in Clare’s mind. The kiss, the things he’d said, the way he’d flinched when she’d told him to leave. That one was the killer.

  “Mom . . . do you think I’m afraid of change?”

  “Afraid of—” Her mother tilted her head, squinted at Clare. Slowly her face softened in a sympathetic smile. “Well, honey . . . I think you’re the only one who can answer that.”

  “I do like my routines.”

  “True.”

  He’d also said she was scared of following her dreams. It was true her real passion was designing gardens, not growing them. But she’d always told herself she’d start her own business someday. Did she mean it . . . or was that just something she told herself?

  “Do you think I’m boring?”

  Anna’s delicate brows lowered. “Did he say that?”

  “No. Josh Campbell did.”

  Her mother’s pink lips pressed together. “I’ve never heard anything so ridiculous. You have a whole town that loves you, Clare. If he’s too blind to see how special you are, it’s his loss.” />
  Clare smiled at the mother tiger response. “Thanks, Mom.”

  “About Ethan, honey . . . why don’t you call him? Straighten out your differences? There was something special about him.”

  She’d never agreed with anything so strongly. “That’s the thing, Mom. He doesn’t have a cell phone. I don’t know where he went, wouldn’t even know where to look.”

  It was all so final. She’d gotten up the nerve to drive by the campground last night. Lloyd Draper said he’d left early Tuesday morning, the day after their kiss, and hadn’t said where he was headed. Desperate, Clare had even gotten on the computer to see if he had a Facebook or Twitter account.

  “I’m sorry to hear that. I thought he’d be good for you.”

  “He’s basically homeless, Mom.”

  “Technically, yes, but for a good cause, wouldn’t you say? He’s got a lot of love to give, and the way he looked at you . . . well, I can certainly see when someone’s smitten with my daughter. A mom can dream, can’t she?”

  So could her daughter. In fact, that’s all she’d done. Dream about designing, dream about love. Dreams got you nowhere without a plan of action. Unfortunately, with no way to reach Ethan, that particular dream was a dead-end street.

  Grandma Rose poked her head into the office. “I’m heading home, girls.”

  Clare stood and embraced her. “Thanks for your help, Grandma.”

  She framed Clare’s face. “Oh, to be thirty again—so young!” She kissed Clare on the cheek. “Happy birthday, sweetie.” Her blue eyes looked tired, the sparkle missing.

  “Thanks, Grandma.”

  “I’ll walk you out, Mom,” Anna said. She turned to Clare at the door. “You coming?”

  “In a minute. I’m going to get a refill.”

  After they left, Clare helped herself to half a cup. The look in her grandma’s eyes haunted her. Rose was a good woman, had such a servant’s heart. She deserved to love and be loved, and for the first time since they’d discovered David was still alive, Clare wished he’d agreed to return to Smitten.