Blossoming Love

  A Sweet and Steamy Short Story Romance

  Rosewood Romances Book 2

  by Amelia Star

  Copyright © 2020 by Amelia Star

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any

  manner whatsoever without express written permission of the publisher except for the use of

  brief quotations in a book review.

  Portions of this book are works of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real

  places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places and events are products of the

  author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or

  dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Book Cover by

  Ella Barnard

  Table of Contents

  ONE – MARK

  TWO – SERENA

  THREE – MARK

  FOUR – SERENA

  FIVE – MARK

  SIX – SERENA

  SEVEN – MARK

  EIGHT – SERENA

  EPILOGUE – MARK – One Year Later

  Thank You

  Join Me!

  Also by Amelia Star

  Excerpt from Summertime Love

  About the Author

  ONE – MARK

  “Just try it. My herbal tea with rose petals will open your heart to all the possibilities that are out there. You’ve been single long enough, Son. You’ve got to open your heart.” My mother’s thin, dark hands push the cup of herbal tea toward me.

  I look into her deep brown eyes and shake my head. “You can’t be serious, Mom. Not another herbal tea.” I stand and pick up my keys off her lace-covered table. “How many times have I told you that I don’t go for that nonsense.”

  “Mark Franklin Forester.” My mother crosses her arms and leans back in her high-backed chair.

  When she takes that tone with me, I know there’s no arguing. I don’t want to have to deal with the drama anyway. It’s just not worth it. “Okay. If it will make you happy, I’ll drink the tea.”

  I pick up the dainty cup and finish off the tea in a few gulps. “There. Are you happy now?” I smile and step back, getting ready to head out.

  “That’s what I like to see. You just need to open your heart to the possibilities, and flash that smile at the ladies. Against your chocolate brown skin, mmm, mmm, mmm. They won’t be able to resist. Then you’ll be able to bring me those grandchildren I’ve been waiting so long for.”

  “Okay, Mom. That’s going to do it for today. The herbs you asked for are on your patio. If you want me to help you plant them in your garden, I’ll come by after the nursery closes. We’ve got a shipment of saplings coming in today. I’ll need to get them unloaded and transplant some of the tomatoes.” I put my jacket on. It’s still rather brisk outside this early in the morning in late April.

  “Oh, you’ve got time before the nursery opens. Sit down here while I fix you some breakfast now.” My mother picks up my empty cup and saucer, carrying it to the kitchen.

  “No, really. I need to go for a walk. You know, on the trail across the river.” I’m almost to the door.

  “Of course.” Shaking her head, she springs up quicker and with more alacrity than most sixty-eight-year-old ladies would be capable of. “Off to the silence you crave when you need to get away from it all.”

  She smiles that pearly white smile I inherited, and I notice how her hair is so very gray and fine. My hair is already getting some of those grays that show up so easily in my thick, black curls. For a moment, just a twinge of guilt that I haven’t been able to give my mom what she so longs for hits me.

  But fate is fate. If I’m destined to meet the right woman, she will appear when the time is right. And no herbal tea concoction is going to be what makes that happen.

  After the usual hugs and reassurances that I’ll be back to help her plant the basil and oregano, I make my escape.

  The drive from St. Louis, Missouri, to the Jefferson Barracks Bridge is uneventful. I notice how full the Mississippi River still is after its annual spring flooding. Taking a series of winding roads, I make it to the levee. From there, I find the path I have been walking for years. This is where I come when I need some peace.

  There’s hardly ever anyone else on this trail. It’s just me and the occasional startling beauty of a redbud in flower among the sweetgum and ash trees. It’s great to be away from the drama of my meddling mother. I know her intentions are good, but this is where I’ve always longed to be – among the peaceful beauty of nature.

  Then, out of nowhere comes a puppy – a golden retriever, frolicking and trailing a leash behind her. The puppy approaches me happily, and I pet her. “Where’s your owner?” I ask, grabbing the leash and stopping her from running any farther.

  “Hey, calm down!” I laugh, and she leaps up, hoping to be petted more.

  Checking the tags, I see the puppy’s name is Daffodil. The phone number and city of her owner are also on the tags.

  I’m about to take out my cell phone and make a call when I hear someone running down the path.

  From around the bend, out from behind the delicate deep pink flowers of a redbud, appears a woman. Not just any woman. A beautiful woman, wearing form-fitting jeans and a yellow t-shirt. She has brown skin almost as dark as mine. Her hair is a luxuriant mass of fine coils around her face. Everything about her is luscious and enticing.

  “Daffodil!” the woman exclaims in obvious exasperation. The puppy runs back to her owner. Ruffling the puppy’s ears, gasping with relief, she exclaims, “Where do you get all your energy?”

  But I’m wondering who has more energy – this cute little dancing puppy, or the woman who’s playing feistily with her.

  “I think someone’s looking for you,” I say. I want to add – it’s not the puppy I’m talking about. It’s me, and I’ve been looking for you all my life.

  Not wanting to come on too strong, I let the woman assume I’m talking about Daffodil.

  “Thank you so much for catching her,” she answers then holds out her hand.

  At first, I think she wants to shake my hand, but then I realize she is waiting for me to hand Daffodil’s leash to her. “Oh, yeah. Your puppy. I guess you want her back.”

  We laugh a little. But when our hands brush as I pass the leash to her, a rush of electricity startles me unlike anything I have experienced before.

  She is the one for me, and I need to find a way to make her mine forever.

  “My name is Mark,” I start. And I’m chuckling to myself, thinking my mom would have a heyday if she knew what I was feeling now – my heart seems to have opened completely. But it’s not because of any tea. It’s entirely due to this beautiful and fascinating woman.

  TWO – SERENA

  “I’m Serena,” I say to this sexy new acquaintance standing in front of me in the middle of the woods. “Really, I appreciate your catching Daffodil. Who knows how far she would have kept running if you’d not been here.”

  “I’m glad I was able to help,” Mark says. Tall and broad in the shoulders, he has the most dazzling smile I’ve ever seen. I can tell he doesn’t flash that smile at just anyone. Something tells me this guy is normally pretty reserved. Maybe it’s the fact he was walking along this path in the woods alone.

  “Do you come walking out here often?” I ask.

  “Yes, I do, at least once a week.” My mom doesn’t like it when I walk alone in the woods with Daffodil. But I’m sure not going to limit my life because of my mom’s fears. I’m just so glad I found Daffodil as soon as I moved here. She’s been such a comforting little darling to have, especially since I couldn’t have children with my ex-husband. He blamed me for everything that went wrong with our marriage. Life with Daffodil is so much better.

  “With a barking puppy, and some pepper spray on the keychain in the pocket of my jeans, I feel safe enough,” I add, just to let Mark know I’m ready for anything.

  As usual then, Daffodil leaps at me, practically knocking me over. I kneel to pet her and try to calm her down, but it’s impossible.

  “You have so much energy, don’t you!” I look back up at Mark and smirk. “Apologies for the baby-talk. But I’ve only had her for about two weeks now. She’s still my little girl.”

  Mark kneels down with me to join in playing with the rambunctious pup.

  “I’m surprised I haven’t seen you out here before.”

  As he kneels so close to me, and we take turns jostling Daffodil, I can’t help but notice his strong hands and the callouses on them. It looks like he does some sort of manual labor.

  “Well, actually, I didn’t really take walks so much until I got this little one.” I hold Daffodil’s furry little face in my hands and look in her eyes. I laugh and ruffle her ears when she licks my nose. “Oh, no, stop!”

  “She’s one lively puppy.” Mark looks into my eyes, and Daffodil calms down for a moment. She whimpers a little and climbs up onto his knee.

  “It appears as if someone likes you,” I say, all the while thinking I wouldn’t mind getting as close to this man as my puppy is.

  A gust of spring air rustles the branches, sending a shiver through me. I stand up, and hug myself against the chill. “That breeze is really something.”

  “You’re cold,” Mark states as he takes off his jacket.

  “Well, I wasn’t quite ready to leave my house when this little trouble-maker went running out the o

pen sliding glass door into the woods.”

  “Here, put this on,” he insists.

  I smile up at him and say, “You don’t have to do that.” But really, I’m grateful as he holds the jacket open for me to slip my arms into.

  “Is that better?” He moves around in front of me to help me with the zipper, which I’m struggling with. “Here, let me get that. It always catches.” He looks at me sweetly, questioningly, for just a moment. We’re both holding our breath, waiting.

  Then, with one strong twist, he gets the zipper to work right. He steps away, and I’m irresistibly tempted to pull him back in close. But Daffodil pulls her leash taut–she’s ready to dart off again.

  “This one’s ready for breakfast, I think.” I give my new acquaintance a sideways glance and consider. “You seem like a nice enough guy. Have you had breakfast? Can I offer you some coffee and pancakes–something to repay you for saving my puppy from getting lost?”

  Mark’s eyes widen, as if he hasn’t eaten for days. “That sounds great.”

  “Well, follow me, then,” I start off down the path as Daffodil tugs me along. “Or, rather, follow her!” I shout and take off running to keep up with my energetic girl.

  “Wait!” Mark shouts, and runs up behind me. He grabs the leash and pulls back on it. “Whoa, girl, whoa,” he calmly asserts.

  Like a well-trained puppy, Daffodil stops and sits in the middle of the path, looking back at us with that eternal smiling expression of a happy dog.

  “How did you get her to do that?” I ask a bit incredulously.

  “It’s all in the voice,” he answers. The resonating bass tones are indeed enough to command anyone within earshot.

  “Well, I need to get myself one of those deep voices, I guess, if I’m ever going to get my girl to do anything for me.”

  “You don’t need a deep voice, just a firm tone.” Mark smiles that dazzling smile again, then turns and gives Daffodil a signal that it’s okay to walk again. We stroll casually along the path as if this were something we did together every morning.

  “So, what other hidden powers do you have?” I ask. This man in his blue broadcloth shirt and jeans looks strong enough to lift boulders, so I wouldn’t be surprised if he were some kind of construction worker.

  Mark shakes his head. “I don’t have any hidden powers. Unless you count taking little seeds and turning them into trees as big as that maple.” He points to the tallest tree along the path.

  “Sounds like a great thing to be able to do. So you’re some kind of gardener? Or horticulturalist? Is that the word?” I burrow my hands in the pockets of his jacket, feeling so cozy and warm. Or maybe I feel so warm now because this fascinating man is walking beside me.

  “I run a gardening center and nursery, over in St. Louis.” Mark looks very happy when he mentions his work, so I can tell he must be living his dream. “How about you? What do you do?”

  “I’m a freelance virtual assistant. And I volunteer at a community center in East St. Louis in the afternoons. In the mornings, I usually go check on my mother who has an apartment in an assisted living facility across town from me in Columbia.” I nod in the direction of my house, which is just beyond the turn in the path. “I’m living in the house I grew up in now. I was working as a secretary at a law firm in Kansas City, but things happened. My mom needed help, so I decided to come back home and help her out. And volunteering at the community center has been a good way for me to get involved with children who are in need.”

  Mark nods calmly in response. “Sounds like you keep busy.”

  I was expecting the kind of reaction from Mark that my ex-husband gave me when I told him where I was volunteering. And when I told my mother I was going to East St. Louis every weekday afternoon to help with an afterschool program, she said she’d rather I take walks in the woods alone. But Mark in his calm and self-assured way doesn’t seem fazed by the fact I would be going into the dangerous area of town alone.

  I look up at him as the path opens onto a clearing and a small parking lot for the hikers who come here occasionally. “Well, that’s my place, across the field there.”

  “I didn’t know there was a parking lot on this end of the trail.” Mark looks around, then eyes the barren backyard of my house for a few moments. “You know what, I think I’m going to need to head into work and take a raincheck on breakfast today.”

  I must have an awfully disappointed look on my face.

  Mark quickly goes on, “What would you think if I came back tomorrow and helped you get a little garden started there in your yard? One thing I can’t bear is the sight of a greenspace that could be burgeoning with vegetables and flowers. It’s the perfect time of year to get in some peas and onions, and of course you’ll want some tomatoes. There’s nothing like home-grown tomatoes.” Mark looks at me hopefully. With the full sun shining on his face now that we’re out of the woods, he looks even stronger and more powerful than he did in the shadows.

  Looking across the field, I realize just how barren the yard of my house looks. I wonder why we never thought of at least planting some flowers before. My mom was always so busy, just trying to raise me alone when I was a kid. The idea of having the chance to work with Mark on this project excites me.

  I lighten up immediately and exclaim, “That sounds wonderful! I will fix more than pancakes for you if you’re going to help me with all that!”

  Mark’s face softens with pleasure. “Pancakes and bacon?”

  “You’ve got it.” I nod. “And fresh-squeezed orange juice.”

  “Mmmm, good.” Mark appears to be as excited as I feel.

  Then he pauses and looks back at the yard. “The ground is going to need some preparation, actually. How about if I send someone over to till the space so it will be ready for planting when I get here tomorrow?”

  “I think I’m going to need to make more than pancakes and bacon to pay you back for all of that.” I eye Mark a moment. “I think I’m going to need to actually pay you for this.”

  He gazes at me calmly. “No, it’s nothing, really. I want to do this for you, Serena. I’m looking forward to spending more time with you.”

  I must be blushing. I’m definitely feeling pretty warm all over.

  Fortunately, Daffodil–who had been sniffing at something in the grass–jumps up and dashes at Mark, crashing into him with so much force for a little thing, Mark takes a step back. “Well, yes, of course, I’m talking about you, girl!”

  He picks her up and I drop the leash while he holds Daffodil over his head. His t-shirt strains against the flexing of his biceps as he lifts my girl high in the air, making me think how glad I’ll be to have the chance to spend more time with him. But how can I be sure he won’t be like Frank was–so nice at first, then blaming me for everything later?

  “You’ll be a great helper in the garden!” Mark laughs, hugging Daffodil to his chest and raising one sexy eyebrow at me.

  “I’m sure she will be quite the helper,” I say with not a little playfulness in my voice.

  Mark sets Daffodil down. “We’ll have some fun,” he affirms, watching Daffodil take off running through the high grasses of the field straight to my backyard.

  “At least she’s going in the right direction this time,” I observe, and we take off after her.

  We spend a short time plotting out where the garden will go. Mark notes my address in his phone, and we exchange numbers.

  “Well, as much as I hate to have to go, I really need to get across the river again now.” Mark holds his arms out.

  I think he’s asking for a hug, and willingly step forward to embrace this man I met less than an hour ago. There’s nothing wrong with hugging a new friend.

  We embrace in the sunshine, and I feel as if I could stay in this strong man’s arms forever. His muscles are firm everywhere, and I’ve never felt so ready to trust someone before. His calm and cool demeanor just reassures me in a way no one else ever has.

  Then a cool breeze wafts across the field, reminding me. “Oh, your jacket!”

  I step back, and Mark chuckles a bit. “That’s originally why I held out my arms. But the hug was even better than getting my jacket back.”

  I stop myself from saying that more hugs from him tomorrow sound better than pancakes.

 

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