In Full Bloom [Second Chances 1] (Siren Publishing Classic) Page 2

  “Taryn, I didn’t want to wake you. You looked so cute with your tiara still tangled in your hair, sleeping. I had to go to brunch with my parents. I don’t think I’m going to be able to eat though. My head feels like it’s about to split open. How much did I drink last night? Why didn’t you stop me? What the hell was going on in the hallway this morning? Call me. I need details!”

  Laughing, she put it down and walked into the bathroom. Flinching at her reflection in the mirror, she saw that her hair was a hot mess. Now she knew why Evan had laughed at her.

  Wincing, she realized that she had been kind of a bitch this morning. He’d still been moving things in at midnight when they’d come home. She didn’t imagine that he would have been any happier getting up at six to move whatever the hell he had been moving. She should probably go apologize at some point. Right now, she had to untangle this tiara though.

  She had almost given in and gotten the scissors out. She’d finally used some conditioner on her hair and it had broken free. Now she had globs of conditioner on her pajamas. Grimacing, she stripped her clothes off and took a quick shower. By the time she had gotten dressed and brushed her very conditioned hair, she was feeling much more human.

  Taryn couldn’t remember the last time she’d had nothing to do. Between her internship, finishing school, studying up for her exams and worrying over the whole job thing, her life had been incredibly busy. Now that she had free time, she wasn’t sure what to do with it.

  She looked around her living room at the dumpy sofa and scarred old coffee table. She realized that, for once, money wasn’t going to be an issue for her. She didn’t have student loans to pay back. She’d gone to school entirely on scholarships and grants. When she told people that, they always told her how lucky she was. It wasn’t luck though. She’d worked damn hard.

  The part she didn’t share is that when she was eight, her parents had died. Her sister had been three, so she’d been adopted into a loving home. Taryn had been too old for that, though. She’d bounced around from foster home to foster home. There had been no college fund waiting for her.

  It had made for a shitty childhood, but looked damn good on college applications. Being such a success story, the state had pretty much paid her to go to college. She still had quite a bit of grant money left over, as she’d lived frugally over the years. Maybe, now that she had a job, she’d replace her sofa. God knows that thing had seen better days.

  Once she was more stable, she’d buy a car. Shit. She’d have to learn how to drive. Maybe Cora could show her, she thought. She smiled when she thought about Cora.

  After she’d been adopted, Taryn had lost complete touch with her. There hadn’t been any resources to track her back then, so she’d really had no avenues to go down. It had been a pretty incredible thing, though. One day during her junior year of college, she’d gotten a FriendBook request out of the blue. She’d almost deleted it but then she’d looked at the young girl’s eyes. She’d known right then that this was her sister.

  She’d taken two buses from the Simi Valley into Encino to meet her sister the next day. They’d taken one look at each other and cried like babies. Taryn hadn’t realized until that moment how much she missed the idea of family.

  Cora’s adoptive parents had been really nice. They invited her to holiday meals, but it just reminded her that she didn’t have any real family of her own, outside of Cora. She didn’t begrudge Cora’s happiness for a second. She could only take it in small doses though. Otherwise she just started feeling sorry for herself.

  Taryn shook off the sudden dark mood and opened her laptop. Checking her bank balance, she decided it was time. That couch would be leaving her apartment very soon. Possibly the beat-up old coffee table, too. Grinning, she grabbed her purse and keys. Sliding on a pair of shoes, she locked her door and headed downstairs.

  Three hours later she stood at the counter of the furniture place near her apartment. She’d found a nice couch and a matching coffee table. The best part is that they had next day delivery and would move the old stuff out for free.

  She’d tried almost every love seat in the Glendale area. She was happy with what she’d decided on. It was dark purple, overstuffed, and nothing like the old blue monstrosity in her apartment. She couldn’t wait to have it delivered.

  When the clerk approached her, an idea struck. Petty as it was, she handed him the ticket for her items and asked, “How early can you deliver this?”

  “We start delivering at 8:00 a.m. on Sundays. We may be able to make arrangements if you need something earlier though.”

  She realizing that she’d need to be awake, too, and said, “No. That’s perfect.”

  Twenty minutes later, she was on the bus back to her apartment. Her stomach no longer lurched when she thought about eating, so she made a quick trip to the grocery store. Feeling a new wave of energy, she decided she would make carbonara for dinner.

  When she made her way up the stairs to her apartment she noticed an odd light at the end of the hallway. Realizing that the door to the roof must be open, she decided whatever it was that he was having delivered must be up there. The sheer size of that thing, she didn’t see how it could fit inside his apartment.

  Curious, she unlocked her door and quickly put away her groceries. Climbing the metal stairwell to the roof, she caught sight of Evan putting together a large metal frame. There were some glass sheets. Maybe a greenhouse, she thought?

  He didn’t have a shirt on. She watched the rippling muscles of his back as he held something in place and hammered against it. Catching sight of a tribal tattoo wrapped around his arm, she wondered if it was just decorative or whether it had a meaning. She wondered if his skin was as smooth as it looked. She stood there for a minute more, allowing herself to enjoy the view, before she asked, “What’s that?”

  Chapter 2

  He gave a slight start, then turned to look at her and said, “It’ll be a greenhouse soon.” A moment later, he added, “Sorry about this morning. I didn’t think that would be so insanely loud. Won’t happen again.”

  She laughed, thinking of tomorrow’s early morning delivery, and said, “Don’t worry. I come in peace. I’m sorry, too. I was pretty bitchy this morning. I may have been slightly hung over.”

  Wiping a hand across his brow, he asked, “Really?”

  He watched as she rolled her eyes. He couldn’t help but grin, though he tried to look somewhat contrite a moment later when he said, “Sorry, sorry.”

  He watched as her face relaxed, then continued, “You were wearing the crown thing. Clearly you were celebrating something. That’s all I meant. Easy, Princess.”

  She raised an eyebrow at the nickname but answered him anyway, saying, “I finished my internship. I’m officially a veterinarian now. I start working for the L.A Zoo on Monday. My sister decided that meant we needed to get drunk.”

  “Well, yeah,” he agreed. Confused he added, “Wait. How old are you? Are you old enough to be a doctor?”

  On a sigh, she said, “Yes. I’m old enough to be a doctor. I’m twenty six. That should make you feel like less of a perv for staring at my boobs when we were on the stairs last night, right?”

  He nodded and said, “It does. I don’t know what you want from me, though. They were there. I’m only a man.”

  She surprised him when she laughed and said, “They were on display, I guess.” A moment later she asked, “So are you keeping the flower shop downstairs? Is that what the greenhouse is for?”

  “That’s the plan. I’m hoping to start incorporating some of my own flowers in there after I get the greenhouse up and running. I’d like to focus more on orchids and other exotics, though. You can get carnations at the grocery store. Ya know?” he said.

  “You want the store to be a place someone would go to get something special. That makes sense,” she said. “How did you get into all this?”

  “My dad started a small garden when I was little. After a while, he stopped growing vegetabl
es because he said he liked the flowers better. He got me started,” he said, feeling that familiar pull of sadness that he always did when he thought about his dad.

  “Did you go to school or is this all self-taught?” she asked.

  “All self-taught,” he said. “Before this, I was a financial advisor.”

  He saw her eyebrows raise in surprise. After a moment, she asked, “Really?”

  “What?” he asked.

  “Hard to picture a man who tried to knock me down the stairs twice doing something so innocuous as being a financial advisor,” she said, lips twitching.

  Raising his hands, he said, “Hey now. I take full responsibility for the first time, but you very clearly ran into me last night.”

  “At most, I’d be willing to take partial responsibility for that. I had a very loud drunk girl with me. It’s not like we were exactly stealthy,” she said.

  The grin spreading across his face again, he said, “No. She definitely wasn’t quiet.”

  He thought back to Cora’s comment about them eye fucking each other on the stairs. From the flush on her cheeks, he could tell that she was recalling that, too.

  There was an awkward pause before she switched subjects, asking, “Tired of playing with other people’s money?”

  “Yeah. Turns out there’s a lot less liability in flowers,” he said, grinning.

  “I suppose there would be. Are you going to keep the name?”

  He shook his head and said, “No. Weatherly’s Bloom Room just doesn’t have the right ring to it.”

  “I thought not,” she said, a smile playing on her lips. “So, what did you decide on?”

  “Enchanted Florist,” he said.

  “It’s whimsical.” she said. “I like it.”

  He smiled. He’d been a little uncertain about the name. He’d been waffling back and forth for weeks between that and something more direct. Realizing she seemed to be waiting for him to continue, he added, “I’ve got a little bit of cosmetic work to do in there. Painting, patching, stuff like that, but I should be open by next week if all goes well”

  “I can’t wait to see it. The paint is really dark now. I hope you’re changing that. You’d want something more muted on the walls, right? So the flowers stand out? The blue is kind of depressing.”

  He cocked an eyebrow and said, “My sister said the exact same thing when she saw it. She made me look through no less than sixty paint swatches. I think we decided on toasted sesame, whatever the hell that is.”

  “It’s gotta be better than powder blue,” she said. “I’m going to go back inside now. You may want to think about some sun screen. You’re a little red and it looks like you’ve got a ways to go.”

  “Sad thing is, I used SPF 70. It’s the curse of the fair-skinned.” He walked over to the cooler and grabbed the can of sunscreen next to it. He proceeded to spray it over his arms and chest, then sprayed his shoulders.

  She gave him a look of pity and said, “You missed half of your back. Pretty much the entire sunburned part. May I?”

  He held the can out to her, and said, “Please do.”

  When she took the can from him, he turned around so his back faced her. As she sprayed him, it stung a little bit on his lower back. He’d probably already done some damage there.

  When the cool stream stopped he turned around and took the can from her. “Thanks,” he said.

  “No problem. Your lower back is gonna peel, probably,” she said, making a face.

  “I’ll live,” he said, setting the can down beside the cooler again.

  “You’re probably right,” she said. She gave him a small wave as she walked toward the door on the roof and then said, “See ya.”

  He gave her a slight nod and said, “Later, Princess.”

  He continued to watch the sway of her hips. Even hung over, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, she was fucking gorgeous. Her blue eyes and lightly tanned skin seemed to contrast with her dark red-brown hair. She was curvy in the best possible way.

  When she rolled the eyes in question and went back inside, he laughed. He continued to watch the door for a moment after she’d gone back inside. He had the feeling that she was going to be trouble of the most interesting kind.

  By 5:30 the greenhouse was up and he’d moved the rest of his tools in. He briefly considered the idea of a rooftop garden. His father had never been keen on growing vegetables, but Evan kind of liked the concept. God knows he had a million books on the subject. Maybe a small herb garden, some garlic. A few small, hearty plants.

  Clearing the trash from the installation off the roof, he lugged it down to the Dumpster. He continued to consider the rooftop. It could be a nice place to entertain. He could see adding a deck table, a grill, some seating, and some lights. It was already coming together in his mind.

  He was planning to continue living here for the foreseeable future. He should probably invest in it. He really liked the idea of putting down roots. He’d moved to Seattle after college, but it never quite felt like home. When his sister mentioned one of her patients was planning to sell her business, he’d been interested. After he found out the building was included in the assets, he’d jumped at the opportunity.

  He’d originally thought that he’d demo the top floor of the building and turn it into one single living space, but Connie Weatherly was a tough old bird. She told him in no uncertain terms that her renter would be staying until she wanted to leave.

  At the time he’d been mildly disappointed by that. He’d wait it out though. So, maybe for the next couple years he’d live in the apartment as is. It would be worth it in the end. Essentially he’d bought a home and business all in one.

  As he walked back upstairs he realized two things. He was hungry and he really needed to shower. Using his smartphone, he found a Chinese place close by and placed an order for some sweet and sour shrimp, fried rice, and an egg roll.

  Walking into the bathroom, he stripped out of his clothes and noticed that he was indeed sunburned. Turning the water on cool, he let it warm up for a second and then stepped under. He hissed at the initial shock, but his body quickly adjusted. He stood under the cool stream until some of the sting left his back, then washed quickly.

  He slid into a pair of gym shorts, opting to skip the shirt. Taryn had been right. His lower back was probably going to peel. He rifled through the boxes of bathroom items until he found some burn spray. Uncapping it, he sprayed some on his lower back and waited for the numbing effect.

  As he was rinsing his hands, he heard a knock on the door. Perfect timing, he thought. Grabbing his wallet, he opened the door and found Taryn standing there holding a brown paper bag.

  He looked at her for a moment, curiously. Uncertainty must have been written on his face because she said, “I think this is yours. The delivery guy showed up at my place. I don’t think he spoke much English because when I told him I didn’t order anything, he looked confused. He called someone, I think maybe to translate. I gave up and just signed for you.”

  “Thanks,” he said.

  “Don’t thank me. I strongly considered keeping it. That smells really good,” she said, grinning. “You’re just lucky I was already making dinner.”

  Plucking the bag out of her hands, he opened the top and inhaled. “This smells awesome. Thank you for dropping it off. Did you tip the delivery guy?”

  She nodded and said, “I put five on the card. That’s not too much, right?” A flash of something that looked suspiciously like uncertainty crossed over her face. A moment later, she added, “I don’t think those guys even make minimum wage.”

  Shaking his head, he said, “No. That’s perfect.”

  Her face relaxed into a smile as she said, “Enjoy.”

  Intrigued by the flash of vulnerability he saw on her face, he cocked his head, inviting her in. He said, “I’ve got an extra egg roll if you’re interested.”

  She looked at him, considering, then shook her head. “No,” she said, “I’ve got carbona
ra waiting for me. Thank you though.”

  “Enjoy,” he said, echoing her earlier response. “Thanks again.”

  It was probably for the best, he thought, as he took the bag inside. They probably shouldn’t complicate the landlord-tenant relationship. The sexual tension that arced between them was bordering on insane though. Even her drunk sister realized that. He had a sneaking suspicion that they were going to complicate the hell out of things at some point.

  He worried she might be a little young for him. He was thirty eight. Over a decade separated them in age. She’d actually hit the nail on the head earlier when she accused him of feeling less pervy knowing her age now. He had assumed she was even younger. Legal, but younger than twenty-six. He’d been relieved.

  Shaking his head, he realized that this was all pointless speculation, anyway. He reached into the bag and pulled out the containers of food. Setting them on the table, he dug through a few boxes in the kitchen until he located a plate.

  Giving it a rinse, he scooped some of the rice and shrimp onto it, then dug through the bag until he located the egg rolls. He grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator, wishing it was a beer, and sighed. Tomorrow he’d need to go to the grocery store. Finally he sat down and ate.

  Twenty minutes later, he exhaled and scooted away from the pub table in his dining room. Feeling full and happy, he tossed the trash into an empty box, and put the leftovers in the refrigerator. Washing his hands, he surveyed the stacks of boxes and decided he’d unpack the kitchen first.

  This place was about two thirds of the size of his old condo. He couldn’t stand clutter and he already had a feeling that would end up being an issue here. The boxes were going to drive him crazy if he put off unpacking them. He supposed it was the growing up with such a big family. With six kids, there was always clutter everywhere. When he’d been able to finally move into his own place, he’d turned into a little bit of a neat freak.