The Tanglewood Flower Shop

by The Tanglewood Flower Shop (retail) (epub)

  Despite herself, Leanne barked out a laugh. She simply couldn’t hold it in. Betty was a hoot, even if she didn’t have a clue what she was talking about.

  ‘I bet he’d take the sex if it was on offer, though,’ the old lady was saying. ‘Have you tried that tactic?’

  ‘No, I most certainly have not.’

  She let out a grunt. ‘It’s probably wise. There’s no point in supplying him with all the milk he can drink if you want him to buy the cow.’

  ‘You’re too much!’

  ‘And you’re not enough. A man kisses you passionately and makes you go weak at the knees…’ Betty held up a hand when Leanne tried to interrupt. ‘Then you get the idea in your noggin that he’s not interested in you. Of course he bloody well is.’

  ‘So why hasn’t he bothered with me since?’ Leanne couldn’t believe she was having this conversation with a mad octogenarian baker.

  ‘Have you bothered with him?’ Betty countered.

  ‘No, but—’

  ‘It works both ways, my dear. Maybe he thinks you’re the one who isn’t interested.’

  ‘I’m not.’

  ‘There you go, then. You’ve been sending him bugger-off signals. No wonder the poor bloke doesn’t know whether he’s coming or going. You need to decide whether you want him or not. To do that, you’ve got to listen to your heart, not your…’ Betty trailed off.

  ‘Betty!’

  ‘Your head, I was going to say, before I lost my train of thought. You’re already thinking with your…’

  Leanne shook her head in disbelief. But something Betty said stuck with her until the evening, and was still on her mind the following morning.

  Maybe Rex did think she wasn’t interested. After all, she’d made it fairly plain that she was focused on winning Budding Stars, and Tia had insinuated there was something going on between her and Jarred Townsend.

  But the Jarred insinuation bit had occurred after the kiss. Although to be fair, she might have given the impression she had no time for romance right now.

  That’s because you don’t, a little voice in her head said. What’s the point of starting something you might not be able to finish?

  Go away, she told it. If she worked on that premise, then she would never have applied for Budding Stars, because there was no guarantee she wouldn’t go out next week or the week after.

  So concentrate on the competition, and if you don’t win, take a crack at Rex, the voice said.

  Take a crack, indeed! That little voice really did need to shut up now. Anyway, who said she couldn’t do both?

  You did, remember?

  Oh, go away!

  The voice finally fell silent and Leanne was left to decide whether she should follow her heart or her head.

  Chapter 24

  ‘Hi, it’s me, Leanne.’ A nervous giggle followed.

  Rex hoped it was nerves; for all he knew, Jarred Townsend could have been tickling her feet with a feather. Although that wasn’t very likely given the rest of the message.

  ‘Um, do you fancy going out sometime? For a meal or a drink or something? Like a date?’ She paused.

  Like a date, or an actual date? Rex wondered, for the ninth time. Yeah, he’d listened to the message that many times already.

  ‘Anyway, call me if you do. I’m free every night except Wednesday – I’ll be in London, you see. Please, please, please don’t think it’s because I want to pick your brains again. Although it would be great if I could run something past you. Oh, that still sounds as if I only want you for your mind. Oh shit, now you think I want you for your body.’ Another pause. ‘I mean, I do, but… Oh bugger. Look, if you fancy going out sometime, phone me, or text me, or… Damn. Scratch that, I’m sounding desperate.’ Another pause was followed by another nervous laugh. ‘Anyway, if you don’t, I’ll completely understand. Er… bye.’

  Could she really be interested in him? His heart gave a little lurch and he made the decision to text her.

  How about tonight?

  Tonight was only a couple of hours away – it was already five o’clock. Maybe it was too short notice for her.

  Great! Where do you fancy going? was the instant reply.

  He had no idea. Up to you, he responded lamely.

  A long wait followed, which he filled by making a coffee and checking his phone every few seconds with the obsession of a teenager hoping for likes on Instagram.

  How about if you come to mine for a meal? he suggested when the wait became too much. Then he worried he was being overly forward and she might jump to the wrong conclusion.

  I thought you couldn’t cook? she texted back.

  He couldn’t – unlike Jarred bloody Townsend. Takeaway? The Chinese is good. He knew that from first-hand experience, having had a meal from there at least once a week since he arrived in Tanglewood.

  OK. 7?

  Great. Rex put the phone down, a huge grin spreading across his face, only for it to disappear as quickly as it had arrived as he gazed around his living room.

  He spent the next hour or so frantically tidying up, emptying the bin in the kitchen and giving the bathroom a quick clean.

  A knock twenty minutes later made him jump, and he scrambled to pull a clean T-shirt over his head. Barefoot, he padded downstairs to open the door.

  She looked amazing, and for a moment he was speechless.

  ‘Are you going to let me in?’ she joked. ‘Or are we going to eat on the garden path?’

  ‘Sorry.’ He stepped to the side, inhaling her perfume as she came close. Bloody hell, she smelled almost good enough to eat!

  He watched her walk ahead of him into the living room, admiring the sway of her hips and the curve of her bum in her tight jeans. She was wearing a pretty turquoise top that left her shoulders bare, and he had an insane urge to kiss the smooth, tanned skin it revealed.

  He coughed and cleared his throat, tamping down his libido. Leanne wasn’t here to be ravished the minute she walked in the door; she was here for dinner, and although he would have loved nothing better than to sweep her into his arms and carry her off to bed, he reined himself in. She clearly liked and trusted him, or else she wouldn’t be in his home; he didn’t want to do anything to jeopardise that. Maybe, after a few more dates, she’d let him kiss her again.

  Deep in thought, he didn’t realise she’d stopped suddenly until he walked into her, nearly knocking her over. He made a grab for her, only to find that his arms went around her waist of their own accord. Then his nose was in her hair and she was half turning to him, and without conscious thought his mouth found hers.

  The kiss was soft at first, a brush of lips, the hint of her breath on his cheek, the tantalising taste of her. He let out a small groan and crushed her to him, his mouth claiming hers fully, his tongue slipping between those delectable lips.

  It took everything he had to gently disengage himself, common sense gradually winning over desire. He consoled himself with the fact that she seemed as eager as he did. Could he really begin to hope she’d enjoyed it as much as he had?

  Her cheeks were flushed and her lips were parted as she gazed up at him with an inscrutable expression.

  He held his breath, waiting for her to slap him or run away.

  She did neither. ‘How about we order?’ she suggested, and he noticed that her voice was as shaky as he guessed his would be.

  Slow down, Rex my boy, he told himself, and the realisation that his internal voice sounded exactly like his dad’s killed the mood instantly. There was nothing like imagining your father looking over your shoulder as you held a beautiful girl in your arms to dampen your ardour.

  Actually, he was quite thankful for that.

  ‘I’ll fetch the menu,’ he said, releasing her and stepping back. He indicated that she should take a seat. ‘What would you like?’

  ‘I eat most things,’ she said, and laughed. ‘You can’t accuse me of being fussy. When I was a child, I had to get in there fast, otherwise my brothers would pol
ish off the lot.’

  While they waited for their meal to be delivered, they chatted easily.

  ‘Did you enjoy growing up on a farm?’ Rex asked her.

  ‘It was the best,’ she said, then added, ‘Most of the time. It was great when I was small, though it got a bit harder when I had to keep begging Mum and Dad for lifts as a teenager. I couldn’t simply pop down to the river on a Saturday evening for a sip of stolen vodka like my mates did. I had to rely on someone to give me a lift, then pick me up afterwards. After a while, I got a bit cannier and tried to get one of my brothers to fetch me. At least they didn’t lecture me if they knew I’d been having a sneaky drink or two.’ She smiled.

  ‘On the other hand,’ she continued, ‘I learnt how to drive a tractor as soon as my legs were long enough for my feet to touch the pedals. I used to love nothing better than helping around the farm. My parents didn’t object to a bit of free labour either, and I didn’t get special treatment just because I was a girl. Actually,’ she giggled, ‘I’m still a girl, in case you hadn’t noticed.’

  Oh, he’d noticed all right. How could he fail not to when he’d kissed those luscious lips not once, but twice? And when she was sitting next to him on the sofa, with her shoes off and her pink-tipped toes curled up beneath her. She was even doing the girlie thing of hugging one of the cushions to her chest. He wished she was hugging him instead.

  Thankfully, their meal arrived at that exact moment, so he was able to concentrate on setting it out on the table rather than on what he’d really like to do – kiss her.

  He watched with amusement as she ate. There was no delicate picking or playing with her food like his ex used to do; Leanne set to with gusto, and even though he’d ordered enough to feed a small army, she made an admirable attempt to clear her plate.

  His appetite matched hers – a day spent on the mountain used up a considerable number of calories, and he was surprised to discover just how hungry he was.

  ‘That’s it, I’m stuffed,’ Leanne announced, putting her fork down and leaning back in her chair.

  Bless her, she offered to help clear everything away, but she was his guest and he wanted to impress her, so he insisted she stayed put while he made them both a coffee, glad he hadn’t suggested opening the bottle of white wine that was chilling nicely in the fridge. He didn’t want her to think he was plying her with alcohol just so she wouldn’t be able to get home.

  When he walked back into the living room with a mug of coffee in each hand, Leanne was sitting on the floor tickling Nell’s tummy.

  ‘You wanted to keep her, didn’t you?’ he asked.

  She shrugged. ‘I always want to keep them, and not just the puppies, either. I used to bawl my eyes out whenever my dad sent one of the hand-reared lambs to market.’

  ‘Didn’t you want to be a farmer yourself?’

  ‘Not really. It’s such hard work, and you have to arrange for someone to look after the farm if you want to go on holiday. Which is why we never went anywhere when we were kids. And if you’re ill – tough. The animals still need seeing to. I can’t remember my mum or dad ever taking a day off. The only time we went anywhere was to the Royal Welsh Show, but that was still classed as work. I’ll have to ask my dad to show you the trophies and rosettes he won.’ She smiled fondly. ‘What about you? What was Glenshona like?’

  He shrugged. ‘It’s a small village, with the sea on one side and mountains on the other.’

  ‘You must find Tanglewood very different,’ she said.

  ‘Not really. I’ve still got the mountains and I love my job.’ He went on to tell her about taking a class of children into the Beacons, and about the painting competition. ‘It was great fun,’ he finished, ‘seeing all those inquisitive little faces.’

  ‘Do you want kids one day?’ she asked him.

  ‘Oh yes. Two, maybe three.’

  Looking back later, he could pinpoint that this was the exact moment when the atmosphere between them changed. The easy-going chatter stopped abruptly, and the air became charged.

  He stared into Leanne’s eyes; she stared back, the depths of hers drawing him in.

  This time, when their lips met, it was more tender than passionate, and he scooted closer, his arms reaching for her.

  She sank into them as though she belonged there, and he tightened his embrace as her own arms snaked around his neck.

  When they finally came up for air, there was no embarrassment or awkwardness, only the knowledge – on Rex’s part at least – that this was the start of something new and wonderful.

  And as he watched her get into her car and drive away, many kisses later, he understood that he would never be the same again.

  It was too soon to say if what he felt was love, but if it wasn’t, it was pretty damn close!

  Chapter 25

  Leanne’s concentration was shot to pieces. When she should be focusing on the unseen task, all she could think about was blue eyes smiling down into hers and that delicious mouth hovering inches from her own.

  It was five days since she’d seen Rex, and every one of them was proving to be longer than the last, which was ironic considering there was so much going on in her life right now.

  She kept thinking back to the other night. They’d got on so well (snogging aside) and she felt as though she’d known him for ages. After their meal, they’d spent the rest of the evening cuddling on the sofa, listening to music. She smiled as she recalled teasing him about his penchant for heavy metal from the 1970s when he’d inadvertently clicked on a Deep Purple track, before he’d found some Ed Sheeran to listen to – much more suitable for snuggling. They’d parted with a date fixed for this coming Sunday, when he’d promised to take her to a secluded spot to watch beavers. Who knew there were beavers in the area? William did apparently, because they’d been released onto his family’s land, and Rex had asked whether he could see them.

  Leanne couldn’t wait, but she wasn’t entirely certain it was the beavers she was excited about. She had an inkling it was more to do with the hunky park ranger who’d be accompanying her.

  Right now, though, she shouldn’t be thinking of beavers or Rex – she should be focusing on her unseen design.

  The brief was to design a ‘Picture of Flowers’, and so far she was stumped.

  Then it came to her – lilies!

  What was more perfect than a painting that featured flowers? She could do a living version, if only she could remember what Monet’s lily painting looked like in the first place. Or poppies maybe – that might work, but she didn’t think she’d spotted any of the scarlet blooms in the chiller.

  Putting all other thoughts out of her head, she set about making her display. But every so often an image of him would appear in her mind, and every time it did, she couldn’t help smiling to herself.

  ‘You seem happy today,’ Jarred said in her ear, making her jump.

  She did a quick scan of the set, just to make sure that none of the cameras were pointed directly at her. There were three mobile ones, plus another two up in the metal rafters that were operated remotely; she knew those were running at all times, so she couldn’t do anything about them, but at least there wasn’t one right in her face picking up every word.

  She caught one of the other contestants, Desiree, shooting her a filthy look, but she ignored her. They were down to seven now, including herself, and she thanked her lucky stars she was still in the competition.

  ‘I am happy,’ she replied, conscious that Jarred was waiting for her to say something. ‘I’m just pleased to still be here.’

  ‘And why wouldn’t you be? You’re a talented floral artiste.’

  Floral artiste? She’d never been called that before. It sounded a far cry from a simple florist. She was aware that even if she crashed out of the competition now, just having got this far would do wonders for her career and her business.

  ‘Have you thought any more about letting me cook dinner for you?’ Jarred was asking.

  �
��Er… sure. I mean…’ She hadn’t – not at all.

  ‘No pressure; I’d like to get to know you better, that’s all,’ he said. ‘How about tonight? After filming?’

  Dear Lord, what was she supposed to say to that?

  ‘Is it allowed?’ she asked, hoping the answer would be no, giving her a get-out clause.

  Jarred shrugged. ‘No one has said it isn’t.’

  Which was how Leanne came to find herself perched awkwardly on a stool in a penthouse apartment, watching Jarred Townsend throw an assortment of vegetables into a wok and wondering how she’d allowed herself to be talked into this.

  To be fair to Jarred, he hadn’t actually made a physical move on her, and he was quite a good cook too, she discovered after he placed a sizzling dish in front of her.

  To her surprise, and despite her trepidation about what was to follow, she devoured the lot.

  Eventually, with the meal finished and a glass of chilled sparkling white wine in her hand, Jarred made his move. But it wasn’t the sort of move she’d been expecting.

  ‘I want to offer you a job,’ he announced.

  Leanne, having just taken a sip of her drink, spluttered, dribbled some down her chin, then broke into a coughing fit.

  ‘A job?’ she managed to squeak when she got herself under control.

  ‘Yes. A job.’

  ‘What kind of job?’

  ‘The sort where you work for me and I pay you for it,’ he teased.

  It might be the wine, but suddenly Jarred didn’t look as predatory as she’d originally thought.

  ‘Doing what?’ she asked.

  ‘I want you to spearhead my new venture.’ He leant forward on the breakfast bar, steepling his hands under his chin. ‘You gave me an idea the very first time we met,’ he went on. ‘As you know, the flower industry is quite resource-intensive and the growing season in the UK is very short, which is why we have to import so much from the Continent or grow them under greenhouse conditions. It all costs money and it’s no good for the planet.’