Yanecia - Nora Roberts- Garden Trilogy - Red lily

He understood his mother had found that a second time, with Mitch. Not so much lightning striking twice as a true and perfect graft that united to make a new and healthy plant.

In his mind, nothing less strong, less important was worth the time or risk.

So he’d enjoyed the women who’d passed through his life, and had never pictured any of them as The One.

Until Hayley.

Now, so much of his world had changed, while other parts of it remained, comfortably, the same.

He’d flipped on Chopin for his plants’ enjoyment today. And had P.O.D rocking the party on his headset.

The space might not appear efficient with its groupings of plants in various stages of growth, the buckets of gravel or wood chips, the scatter of tapes and twine, clothespins and labels. There were scraps of burlap, piles of pots, bags of soil, tangles of rubber bands. Trays of knives and clippers. But he knew where to find what he wanted when he needed it.

There might have been times he couldn’t put his hands on a pair of matching socks, but he could always put them on the tool he needed.

He walked along, airing the tents and cases that housed his plants, as he did every morning. A few minutes without their covers would dry off any surface moisture that might have condensed on his rootstocks. Fungal disease was always a worry. Still, too much air might dry out the union. As he aired them, he checked specimens for progress, for any signs of disease or rot. He was particularly pleased with the camellia he’d cleft-grafted over the winter. His specimens would take another year, perhaps two to flower, but he believed they’d be worth the wait.

The work required his passion, but it also required his patience, and his faith.

He made notes to be transcribed to his computer files. There was active, steady growth in the astrophytum seedlings he had protected under a bottle cloche, and the nurse grafts of his clematis looked strong and healthy.

Making the rounds once more, he retented the plants. He’d need to check the pond later to study the water lilies and irises he’d hybridized. A side and personal experiment he hoped would prove rewarding.

Plus, it would give him an excuse to take a cooling dip in the heat of the day.

But for now, he had several cultivars to see to.

He gathered the tools he’d need, then selected a healthy rootstock from his pot-grown lantana, made the oblique cut, then matched it with a scion of viburnum. The girths were similar enough that he was able to use the simple slant of each cut to place them together so the cambiums on each side met truly.

Using elastic bands, he kept the pressure light and even as he bound them together. Judging the graft good, he used grafting wax to seal the joining. He set it in a seed tray, covered the roots and graft with moist soil—his mother’s mix—then labeled.

Once he’d repeated the process several times, he tented the tray, and swiveled to his computer to log in the work.

Before he started on the next house specimens, he switched his music to Michelle Branch and pulled a Coke from his cooler.

By the time he’d finished, Michelle had played through and his morning’s work was completed.

He gathered a bag of tools and supplies, left his headset behind, and went out to check his field-grown and water plants.

There were a few customers wandering around, scouting out the discounted stock under shade screens or poking into the public greenhouses. He knew if he didn’t make his escape quickly, one of them might catch him.

He didn’t mind talking plants or directing a customer toward what they were looking for. He just preferred keeping his mind in the game, and right now that game was checking his field plants.

He made it past the portulaca before someone called his name. Should’ve kept the headset on, he thought, but turned, readying up his customer smile.

The brunette had a curvy little body, which he’d had occasion to see naked several times. At the moment, she was showing it off in belly-baring shorts and a brief top designed to make a man give thanks for August heat.

With a delighted laugh, she bounced up on her toes, clamped her arms around his neck and gave him a loud smack of a kiss. She still tasted of bing cherries, and brought back a flood of equally sweet memories.

Instinctively he gave her a hard hug before stepping back to get a better view. “Dory, what’re you doing in town? How’ve you been?”

“I’ve been terrific, and I just moved back. Just a couple weeks ago. Got a job with a PR firm here. I got tired of Miami, missed being home, too, I guess.”

She’d probably changed her hair from the last time he’d seen her. Women were forever changing their hair. But since he wasn’t absolutely sure, he fell back on the standard: “You look great.”

“Feel the same. And look at you, all buff and tan. I was going to call you but I wasn’t sure you were still living in that sweet little house.”

“Yeah, still there.”

“I was hoping. I always loved that place. How’s your mama, and David, and your brothers, and oh, just everybody.” She gave a bubbling laugh, threw out her arms. “I feel like I’ve been living on Mars for the past three years.”

“Everybody’s good. Mama got married a few weeks ago.”

“I heard. My mama caught me up with some of the local news. I heard you haven’t.”

“Haven’t what? Oh, no.”

“I was thinking you and I could do some catching up.” Dory trailed a finger down his chest. “I’d love to see your place again. I could pick up some Chinese, a bottle of wine. Like the old days.”

“Ah, well . . .”

“A kind of welcome-home and thank-you for you helping me pick out some houseplants for my new place. You’ll do that, won’t you, Harper? I’d like a few nice ones.”

“Sure. I mean, sure I’ll help you pick out some plants. But—”

“Why don’t we go inside, out of this heat. You can tell me what you’ve been up to while you help me out. But save some of the good stuff for later.”

She took his hand, squeezing it as she tugged him with her. “I’ve missed seeing you,” she continued. “We barely had a chance to talk when I was up for a few days last year. I was going out with that photographer then, remember? I told you.”

“Yeah.” Vaguely. “And I’m—”

“Well, that is so over. I don’t know why I wasted a year of my life on a man so self-centered. It was always about him, you know what I mean? What made me think I wanted to hook up with the artistic, broody type?”

“I—”

“So I shook him and the sand out of my shoes, and here I am.”

Inside, she turned and slid her hands in the back pockets of his jeans. An old habit of hers that brought on another memory flash. “I really have missed the hell right out of you. You’re glad to see me, aren’t you, Harper?”

“Sure. Sure, I am. The thing is, Dory, I’m seeing somebody.”

“Oh.” Her full bottom lip pouted. “Some serious somebody?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh well.” She left her hands in his pockets another moment, then drew them out. Gave his ass a little pat. “I guess I figured it would take a lot of luck on my part for you to be flying solo. How long have you been seeing her?”

“Depends. What I mean is, I’ve known her awhile, but we’ve only started . . . we’ve only been involved recently.”

“Looks like I should’ve gotten here sooner. We’re still friends, right? Good friends.”

“We always were.”

“That’s what I remembered, and I guess what I missed with Justin, the photographer. We never managed to be friends, and we sure as hell weren’t anything close to friends when it fell apart. You, on the other hand. I was telling another friend of mine not long ago how I’ve never been dumped as sweetly as I was with you.”

She laughed, rose on her toes to kiss him lightly. “You’re a rare one, Harper.”

She stepped back, and seconds later, Hayley came through the glass doors. “I’m sorry, am I interrupting? Is there something I can help you with?”

“No, thanks. Harper’s giving me a hand.” Dory patted hers on his arm. “I’m clueless about plants, so I came to the expert.”

“Hayley, this is Dory. We went to college together.”

“Is that right?” She smiled, widely. “I don’t think I’ve seen you in here before.”

“I haven’t been, for a long time. I’ve just moved back from Miami. New job, fresh start, you know how it goes.”

“Don’t I just,” Hayley purred with that wide smile still in place.

“I decided I’d come see Harper, and catch up, and get a few plants to liven up my new apartment. Wait till you see it, Harper, it’s a big step up from the hole I rented off-campus back in the day.”

“Anything would be. I hope you got rid of that futon.”

“I burned it. Harper hated that thing,” she said to Hayley. “Even offered to buy me a bed, but all I had was this tiny little place—just one room. If I had three people over, we were so crammed together we were halfway to an orgy.”

“Those were the days,” Harper said, and made Dory laugh.

“Weren’t they? Well, you’d better show me what I’m going to need, or I’ll keep you talking the rest of the day.”

“I’ll just leave y’all alone.” Hayley backed out the doors.

She got back to work, but made certain she wasn’t on checkout duty when Dory was ready to pay for the plants Harper selected for her. But she could hear Dory laugh—a particularly grating laugh, in her opinion—as she stocked shelves across the room.

Harper leaned on the counter through the process, she noted out of the corner of her eye. And just look how he wore that lazy smile of his while they talked about mutual friends and the good old days.

And damn if that Dory didn’t keep touching him. Little pats and pokes in between her hair flips. The steam began to rise from her belly up to her throat as Harper pulled the cart of potted plants out to Dory’s car.

Hayley decided she really needed to check the stock of the shelves by the window. And if a person happened to look out while they were working, it wasn’t spying. It was glancing.

Enough of a glance that she saw Harper lean down and exchange a liplock with his college buddy.

Bastard.

Then he waved her off before strolling around the side of the building like he wasn’t a low-life cheating scum. Worse, the sort that did his low-life cheating right in front of her face.

You’d think he’d have the courtesy, the good breeding, to at least do it behind her back.

Well, that was just fine. She wasn’t going to let it matter. She wasn’t going to give a single wrinkled, balled-up damn.

And she wasn’t going outside to kick him in his two-timing balls either. She was just going out to see if any customers needed her assistance.

That’s what she got paid for. Not for flirting, not for spending half the day reminiscing. And certainly not for kissing customers before she waved bye-bye.

She was nearly to the grafting house when she saw him out in the field. He was already crouched down, examining grafts on the magnolias she’d helped him graft and plant weeks before.

He flicked her a glance and a smile as she approached. “Take a look. These are coming along. Couple of weeks we can remove the tape.”

“If you say so.”

“Yeah, they’re looking good. I need to check some of the other ornamentals. I think we’re going to have some nice weeping pears and cherries for next season. Have I shown you the fruiting pears I did? The dwarfs?”

“No. Did your friend get what she was after?”