Loving a Wildflower

by Amanda Torrey

  She, this kind, open-minded, free-spirited hippie chick, had set her mind to teasing the humanity out of him and making him whole again.

  He didn’t know how to break it to her, but his humanity was left behind in Afghanistan, and he was broken into so many pieces that there was no glue strong enough to hold him together.

  Simplicity moved her legs so he could sit.

  Without any warning, she bent and took his cock into her mouth.

  He stopped breathing.

  What had he done to deserve this beautiful nymph?

  He hadn’t thought he’d ever be treated like a man again.

  His hands slipped into the silky fullness of her hair as her lips and tongue moved over him.

  When he couldn’t take it any longer, he pulled her away and lifted her, placing her over him. With her straddling him, he slipped easily into her wet warmth, gripping her ass as she rode him. Her head flung back, showcasing her breasts. He bent to take one of the bouncing beauties into his mouth, loving the way she moaned and tightened around him.

  They finished together in effortless perfection.

  He held her to him, caressing her sweaty back and committing her jasmine smell to olfactory memory. He’d hold on to this moment long after she lost interest in him. He’d never let her know how much her presence and her insistence meant to him, but he’d know.

  He didn’t know how long she’d stay on him. He didn’t know how long he could sustain this level of intimacy without acting like the ass he was. Again.

  His stomach growled. She laughed. Her movement caught the attention of his hardening-again friend.

  “Guess you worked up an appetite.” She licked his neck.

  He almost smiled.

  He reached back and pulled his hood back over his head.

  She pretended not to notice.

  “Good thing I made you food.”

  She hopped off him as if nothing had occurred, then strode out of the room completely, unabashedly nude.

  For once, he wished for bright lighting.

  He shimmied into a pair of sweats and followed her to the kitchen, where she was already warming the food.

  He retrieved two plates and two sets of silverware. Nothing matched. Somehow he didn’t think she’d care.

  Watching her move with such confident agility made him want to nuzzle up to her. To drag her back to the bedroom. To beg her to stay with him forever.

  He wanted his hands on her. Her hands on him. His mouth. Her mouth. Her body. Her soul.

  Fuck it! He’d never have that.

  “Whoa, mood change in the room. What’s up?”

  She turned away from the stove, all naked glory. Her skin still bore the pink of well-loved flesh.

  She dropped her wooden spoon to the counter and wrapped her arms around his neck.

  “This meal is not for anyone wearing cranky pants.”

  He dropped his forehead to rest on hers, breathing in her calming scent.

  He had never been one to live in the moment. Never cared much for any moment he was in. But that wouldn’t stop him from doing his best to live in this one.

  “Unless you’d like to skip dinner and go back to dessert?”

  He wanted nothing more.

  Nothing fucking more.

  His shoulders tensed. Disentangling her arms, he ducked away and retreated to the food.

  “Is this ready?”

  He didn’t look at her. He couldn’t. Her disappointment shook the room like an exploding grenade, shocking his senses as effectively.

  “Um, yeah. Should be.”

  He helped himself to the porridge-looking stuff—she had called it quinoa. Looked like something his captors would have fed him to keep him alive but not to give him pleasure. The vegetables looked…interesting. Wilted, but they were fragrant with garlic and ginger, so he figured he could pretend to enjoy them. She had worked hard on the meal, after all. And on everything else.

  “Where’s the meat?”

  He watched as her face fell. Then she smiled.

  “It’s a vegan meal. No meat.”

  “Am I being punished for something?”

  Her laughter hurt his chest. The reaction was unexplainable, but it happened, nonetheless.

  “Not punished, Ethan. Treated.”

  He mumbled under his breath, but took an extra scoop of wilted veggies. He had worked up an appetite.

  “Don’t you mumble about it—that’s rude.”

  Simplicity nudged him out of the way and heaped her plate high with the food she had made.

  “Vegan food is good for you. Garlic and ginger are great for preventing illness, quinoa is a complete protein, and the veggies are not only delicious, but good for—”

  He surprised himself by leaning over and shutting her up with a kiss.

  Surprised her, too.

  He allowed his eyes to crinkle at the corners as he stared into her widened eyes.

  She stood beside him still, but managed to lean in to him as she held her plate in front of her.

  “Thank you.” The words felt foreign coming out of his mouth, but he had never meant them more sincerely.

  She fluttered her eyelashes and fanned herself dramatically.

  “Back up one second. Ethan Witherford, did you just say ‘thank you’?”

  He pinched her ass before carrying his plate to the table. He sat down, trying not to think about the food too much before tasting it.

  No matter how bad this vegan food was, it couldn’t compare to the shit he had been fed in Afghanistan.

  Hmm. Surprisingly tasty. A little on the chewy side, but flavorful.

  He shoved another forkful in his mouth before noticing her standing by the table. Watching him.

  “Oh, shit.” He pushed the chair away from the table, standing in a too-late, half-assed attempt to behave like the gentleman he used to be.

  “You like it?”

  Her eyes twinkled.

  “It’s good. Really good. So good that I forgot I’m supposed to have manners.”

  Her forehead wrinkled as she studied his face.

  “The chair. You take it.”

  “Oh, that? You have it. I like to stand while I eat.”

  She twirled around the room like a fairy, taking tiny bites from her plate and looking quite absentminded.

  Watching her bare skin and shiny hair wreaked havoc with his appetite.

  He cleared his throat and retreated to his living room. They could picnic on the floor. Together.

  He waited. She didn’t follow.

  After eating a few more bites in silence, he placed his plate on the floor and returned to the kitchen.

  She continued to twirl—slowly and gracefully, like a ballerina.

  No wonder she stayed so thin. She worked off the calories before they could do anything.

  “Simplicity?”

  “Oh, hey!”

  She stopped twirling, took a bite, and looked at him as if he had magically appeared.

  “I thought you’d come sit in the living room with me. That’s why I went out there. What are you doing?”

  “Oh, I’d love that!” She drew invisible shapes on the floor with her bare toe. “I was just thinking. Imagine if you left this house and never came back to it, but you didn’t sell it, either. I wonder how long it would take for Mother Nature to reclaim it. Weeds would grow up around the house, gradually pushing their way through windows and cracks. The strength of their roots would break through the foundation. Can you imagine that? If you returned years later, the place would be overrun with the most beautiful pieces of nature imaginable. You wouldn’t need furniture, because you’d have soft moss to sit on and you could fashion a swing out of plants, and oh my goodness. It would be so lovely.”

  Her dreamy sigh nearly had him convinced of the loveliness. Only he hadn’t completely lost his mind yet.

  He was starting to wonder about her…

  “Simplicity?” He spoke cautiously. “Are you okay?”

>   She blinked, reconnecting with the here and now.

  “Oh, sorry. I get lost in my thoughts sometimes. I just feel such a connection to nature. I love to imagine what would happen if we stopped trying to control it so much and lived side by side.”

  Made sense. He had been making a life of trying to control everything. Look what good it had done him.

  “You think I’m crazy now, don’t you?”

  She didn’t look upset over the idea of him thinking her insane. Resigned, but not upset.

  He shook his head.

  He thought she was the most rationale being he had ever spoken to.

  “I like the insight you offer.” He meant it, too. She was honest in a way that went beyond the normal realm of reality. “It’s refreshing.”

  In her lullaby-like voice, she sang, “You fiiiind meeeee refreshing, refreshing. You fiiiind meeee refreshing!”

  She paused, placing her plate on the table. One foot in front of the other, like a model on the catwalk, she strode toward him, hips swaying from side to side, eyes firmly planted on him and his scarred face.

  She opened her centerfold lips to continue her song. “Dooooo you think I’m sexy, tooooooo?”

  He nodded.

  Dear god, yes he did.

  And he had to do something to change his damn mind.

  Her cell phone started singing a new age tune from the counter. She danced over to it, while he cursed the intrusion of the real world upon their scene of make-believe.

  Her face drained of color as she glanced at the phone.

  He considered asking her what was wrong, but that would make it sound like he cared more than he should.

  No, he’d wait for her to tell him. Or to leave. Either way would be fine.

  Especially the latter.

  He wasn’t used to company. He found comfort in the silence of the solitary life he had chosen. He didn’t want to think about the thoughts and feelings of another person. Didn’t want to worry about what the next encounter would lead to. Didn’t want to struggle against a captor he couldn’t fight.

  Didn’t need any chains.

  And yet as he watched Simplicity hurrying into her clothes, his chest began to burn.

  Maybe it was her cooking.

  “I completely forgot that I was supposed to stop by Mrs. Brown’s house to shovel her back porch. She likes to sit out there to feel closer to her husband, who loved the outdoors.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest and bit back the offer that almost slipped out. Instead, he kept his mouth shut and watched her retrieve her clothes.

  “I was supposed to be there half an hour ago. She texted me—can you believe that? She’s like eighty or something and she’s texting. I just got my first cell phone when Freedom added me to her plan!”

  She blew her hair out of her face, and when that didn’t work, she continuously flipped her head until her boots were on and she could use her hands to shove her hair back into the elastic she had kept on her wrist.

  He almost told her she was adorable. Almost offered to shovel for her, or with her, at least. Almost told her she was working her way into a heart he thought was dead.

  But those would all be lies.

  He was incapable of thinking or feeling those things.

  “I can come back later to clean this up.” She waved her dainty hand around the kitchen.

  “No.”

  His tone was harsher than he had intended. He had meant that he’d clean it up. But when her face blanched and her lips clenched, he knew he couldn’t clarify or apologize.

  Better for her to know him as the dick he was. Maybe then she’d stay away.

  ***

  Simplicity enjoyed helping the elderly citizens of Healing Springs. She could do things they couldn’t, and they could offer insight that no one her age could dream of.

  So when Mrs. Brown invited her in after only a few minutes of heavy snow shoveling, she didn’t turn down the offer of hot tea and enlightening conversation.

  “You can’t be serious!” Simplicity’s jaw fell at the info Mrs. Brown had dropped on her sympathetic lap. She stopped stirring sugar into her tea. “Hungry kids? In Healing Springs? Come on. I thought that was a city problem.”

  “Oh, child. Hunger is everywhere. I’ve been trying to get someone to take notice. The kids next door always look forward to going to school because they get fed there. When they don’t have school, they don’t get food. Not much, anyway.”

  Simplicity fiddled with her collar.

  “But this isn’t a poor town.”

  “There are impoverished people everywhere, darling. If you look closely enough, you’ll notice.”

  Shame reddened Simplicity’s cheeks. Had she been so caught up in her idealism and the thought that she had moved to Utopia that she missed seeing hungry kids?

  “We have to change this.” She sipped her tea, allowing the steam to clear her head so ideas could flow.

  “That’s the spirit. Scone?”

  Simplicity accepted the treat.

  “We could start a program.” Simplicity sat up straighter in her seat as ideas poured forth. “We can make sure all people in town have food. Always.”

  “You’ll want to focus on one group first, child. Start with the kids. They are the future. Trying to do too much at one time would be a mistake.”

  “I don’t want anyone to be hungry.” Simplicity buried her face in her hands. Too much. Too much emotion. Too much fear. Too much pain in the world.

  She had been hungry. Had gone without. Not in her childhood—her mother made sure they had everything they needed, even if her ways had been unconventional. But in Simplicity’s adult life, she hadn’t been great about making sure her basic needs had been consistently met.

  But for a child to go without food? For a child to eagerly count down the days until school was in session so he could eat?

  Unforgivable.

  “Isn’t school only like 180 days each year?”

  “Yes, dear. Usually a few more around here.”

  “So what do they eat for the other half of the year?”

  “There are some programs already. Food pantries, government subsidies. Fact is, no matter how much a family struggles to do their best, sometimes they can’t make ends meet. That’s why we need someone with your kind of passion to lead the way and help find solutions.”

  “You think too highly of me,” Simplicity mumbled. She was great at starting projects. Big, grand projects. She had always wanted to save the world.

  The problem was actually accomplishing something.

  Sticking through when things got hard or when her interest waned was not her strong suit.

  Mrs. Brown’s delicate teacup clinked as her shaky hand placed it on the dainty saucer.

  “Maybe I do. Maybe I don’t. I’m not suggesting that you solve the world’s hunger problem. I’m not even suggesting you do anything with this information. I’m simply having a conversation with a lovely young lady who has proven that she cares about people.”

  Now that the floodgate was open, Simplicity couldn’t contain the rush of ideas. She straightened her spine and leaned forward on the table, tapping her fingers as the thoughts created a mental whirlwind.

  “I’ll organize fundraising to start an organization. We could deliver prepared meals to kids on the free lunch program in school whenever school is not in session. We can—”

  “Did you hear that?” Mrs. Brown held onto the table for balance as she lifted herself from the seat.

  She did. The scrape-scrape of a shovel dragging across a hard surface.

  “Wait right here, Mrs. Brown. I’ll see who’s out there.”

  Simplicity peeked out the window on the door leading to the back deck, only to shiver as she watched a familiar outline moving away discreetly in the night.

  She whipped the door open, calling his name. He didn’t turn around.

  The entire deck had been cleared of snow. All that remained were the footprints of a
man who was far more than he wanted anyone to believe.

  Chapter Six

  Simplicity did her best to give Ethan the space she knew he needed. She knew he was remorseful about their last encounter and his negativity. Why else would he have shoveled snow at Mrs. Brown’s house that night?

  He needed to get used to the idea of her being a presence in his life, but she couldn’t force herself in.

  He had to learn to open the door for her.

  So over the past few weeks, Simplicity had made sure to shop for the exact list of items in his folder. She delivered them to his back porch—during the daylight—and most often when she knew he was walking downtown.

  She wasn’t avoiding him, but she knew she had to be careful.

  He ignited something in her that she couldn’t identify. And it scared the quartz crystal out of her!

  It wasn’t just her intuition telling her there was more to Ethan Witherford than he let on. Rogan had told her that someone had sent an anonymous package to Dylan. Her heart went into overdrive when he told her it was a new handheld video game system and that Dylan had ‘fessed up about what had happened the day Simplicity had picked the kids up from school.

  Simplicity thanked Ethan for his kind gesture with an anonymous gesture of her own—a new luxury bedding set, just like the ones Freedom had purchased for the refurbished cottages. Not just like them. The actual set. Simplicity had asked Freedom if it was okay to take one of the extra sets from the storage area. What was a girl to do when she had no actual income? Freedom had tried to question her, but when she assumed it was for a needy senior in town, Simplicity didn’t argue. But she did make sure to do extra chores around the resort that week.

  Between the February school vacations in New England and the overactive winter gracing the local ski areas with white gold on the slopes, business had picked up at Freedom’s cottages. Since Simplicity had caught up on all of her volunteer tasks, she decided to help Rose, one of the housekeepers, with cleaning the vacant cottages and preparing them for the next guests.

  Rose didn’t like to blast the radio while cleaning like Simplicity did, and she didn’t seem to want to engage in small talk, either.

  But Simplicity had ideas—big ones—and she couldn’t contain the urge to discuss them.