Aphrodite's Garden (A Fast Break Romance) (3 page)

“Too much. I’ve never lost control like that. Ever.”

“Then I’d say it’s high time. He sure likes you.”

“This is not about anything between Ken and me, because there is not and will not be anything between us. The roses are the issue, and he’s not interested in selling them.”

“I told you it might take some convincing. I really didn’t intend for the sparks to fly so quickly or so intensely. Man, you two practically defined spontaneous combustion.” She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

Aimee frowned. “How do you know all this?”

“I know everything that goes on between my chosen ones, honey. And you and the good doctor were destined to be together.

You’re soul mates.”

“You really believe you’re the goddess of love.” Venus looked back at Aimee, all amusement gone. “Don’t you?” she asked as she pinned Aimee with a look that wouldn’t let her go.

Aimee didn’t know why, but she did. How else could all that had happened since Venus had walked into her shop be explained? “I believe it.”

“So, what are we going to do about this mess we’re in?

June first is less than forty-eight hours away. I refuse to give Aries the upper hand.”

“It doesn’t look like there’s anything I can do about it.”

“You have to convince Ken to give you some of his roses.

Honestly, honey, he could give you all you need for that stack of orders and not even miss them. He has more than he can give away before they wilt and die.”

She shook her head. “I can’t go back there.”

“You must.” She touched Aimee’s hand. “Trust me, he wants to see you again.”

“If that’s true, why can’t he come to me? I gave him the name of the shop and told him it was in Perry.”

“You’re forgetting he’s a doctor. He has patients depending on him.”

“It’s the weekend.”

“He’s on call. He can’t just pick up and leave.” She had a point. Aimee chewed on her thumbnail. “It would be uncomfortable.”

“Don’t worry about that. Just go to him. Remember, if you touch, you won’t be able to control your,
um
, urges.”

“What is this, Venus? I mean, what was that between Ken and me? I’ve never experienced anything like it.”

“It’s love, honey. Geez, I’ve been at this for centuries, and it still amazes me when humans don’t recognize true love when it slaps them in the face.”

“I thought Cupid fired his arrows and made people fall in love.”

“He handles love, like you said. I handle soul mates in my own unique manner.”

*

Aimee pulled into Ken’s driveway and shut off the engine.

What would she say to him? Not having roses for June was almost as scary a prospect as believing she’d found her soul mate. Her first marriage had been a huge mistake. They’d been two teenagers who’d given in to a youthful passion that had produced her son and had married and divorced before Ethan had started first grade.

Since that time, she’d invested all of herself into raising her son and making her business viable. And now it seemed that somewhere between the goddess of love and Dr. Ken Hartman laid her destiny or her demise.

She got out of her car and made her way up the sidewalk to the front door. She rang the bell. No response. The black SUV

parked in the driveway seemed to indicate that the doctor was in.

So, she followed the wrap-around porch to the back of the house.

A spectacular rose garden dominated the landscape. At lease an acre of beautiful, healthy roses stretched out before her. Aimee closed her eyes and breathed in their scent. Heaven.

She opened a gate and walked the garden’s winding path, stopping here and there to examine the beautiful blooms. After a time, she came to a small potting shed. One of the doors was slightly ajar. She approached slowly. She didn’t want to tip Ken off to her presence, giving him the opportunity to send her on her way.

She had to speak to him about the roses. She wouldn’t get distracted today.

The door was open, and Ken stood in the center of the long, narrow structure with his back to her. Light flooded the space from the tall, multi-paned windows that lined the walls. She drank in the sight of him. He looked wonderful in faded, well-worn jeans and a black t-shirt. She looked away, willing herself to turn off the attraction she felt for him. When she looked back, she noticed a growing pile of long-stemmed roses lay in front of him. Every color of the rainbow seemed to be represented. On the other side of the worktable, an easel holding a canvas had been positioned so that she couldn’t see the painting. Open jars of paint took up what little space the roses didn’t occupy on long wooden table pushed up against the wall.

“Hello,” she said tentatively.

He turned toward her, surprised. “Aimee!”

“I hope you don’t mind the intrusion. The door was open.”

“No, come in. I was just thinking about you. About our conversation yesterday. You left so suddenly–”

“I know. I’m sorry–”

“I’m sorry–” they said simultaneously.

They laughed, and some of the tension in the moment evaporated. Aimee picked up a blood red rose with waxy, rich green leaves. She closed her eyes and inhaled its fragrance. Its scent was like no rose she’d ever smelled. It imbued her with a calm energy. She looked up into Ken’s warm, brown eyes and saw her future. Their future. But she had to stay focused. The roses came first. She needed them to make June special for the couples she served. How could they get married, celebrate anniversaries, fall in love, and stay in love without roses? And such roses. She could do amazing things with Ken’s roses.

Ken laughed. “I wish a beautiful woman would look at me the way you’re eyeing those roses.”

Aimee shifted her attention to Ken. She could imagine any number of women looked longingly at him. “I’m sorry. It’s just, they’re incredible.” She picked up several and examined the ones hidden beneath. “I’ve never seen such perfect specimens.”

“They’re always that way. Perfect. I have to admit that I don’t understand it. I really don’t know much about roses. I just know they grow for me. Most of the outdoor garden came with the house. I’ve been thinking of adding greenhouses so I can grow some in winter and experiment with creating new varieties.” Aimee smiled. “Venus said your garden is protected by Zeus.”

“She came by yesterday. Interesting lady. She’d been here before. In fact, she comes by a couple of times a year. She’d never identified herself.”

“Why does she come here? Do you sell her roses?”

“No. I’ve never sold them to anyone. She just likes to walk in the garden. I didn’t think anything of it. People stop by to see the roses all the time. I give them as many as they want. They make people happy.”

Aimee couldn’t bring herself to come right out and ask if he believed Venus was a mythological figure, so she asked, “What do you think of Venus?”

“She’s eccentric.”

“She’s a beautiful woman.”

Ken shrugged. “I suppose.”

He didn’t seem to have anything further to say on the matter. She picked up one of the jars on the table. “Do you paint?”

“A little.”

“A Renaissance man. A doctor, a horticulturist, and an artist. I think I know why women stop by, and I don’t think it’s to see your roses. Have you never married?” She regretted the question immediately, but curiosity held her apology.

“No. I guess you could say I never met the right woman.” She found that difficult to believe. She could easily imagine scores of women throwing themselves at a man like Ken, her included . . . if she were interested, which she wasn’t. Men had a way of making life complicated. She didn’t need more complications.

Time to steer the conversation back to the business at hand.

“How many varieties of roses do you have?”

“I don’t know. Pretty much every color and several variations of each.”

“What are all these for?” she indicated the roses piled on the table.

“In honor of June being National Rose Month, I thought I’d take roses to the nurses at the hospital and the ladies at the nursing home.”

“You just give them a single stem?”

“Yes, for the ladies at the nursing home. I put some in vases for the nurses’ stations at the hospital.”

“I’d love to help.”

“So I’ll be indebted to you?”

The look in his eyes could only be described as wary. “Only you can decide what you want to do with your roses. I can’t deny that I’d like you to sell me enough to get through June. You could give the money to charity, if you like. But I can help you with this.

It’s what I do.”

He took a moment to think about it, but in the end, he said,

“All right,” and handed Aimee a vase.

“Tell me about the first group of nurses at the hospital.”

“What do you mean?”

“Start at the first floor and work your way up. Is there a station on the first floor?”

“No. That’s where the labs are located.”

“Second floor?”

“Maternity Ward.”

Aimee nodded and picked up the pink and bluish roses. She arranged them quickly, placing a few fern fronds to frame them.

“Perfect,” he commented.

“Third floor?”

“Intensive Care Unit.”

“
Hmm
. Stressful, fast-paced.” She gathered the silvery lilac roses, added baby’s breath and some trailing ivy.

“Very soothing.”

“Next?”

They continued until the table was filled with arrangements that made the right statement for the nurses’ jobs. “This is incredible. You really are gifted,” Ken said.

“Yes,” she agreed. Pride had nothing to do with it. She had known for years this was her calling. “I wish . . .”

“What?”

“It’s just that people expect me to deliver for them on special occasions. I’m concerned about the kind of strife not having roses for all the June anniversaries will cause in the lives of the couples who depend on me.” She didn’t even mention the rose parade and the weddings.

“Can’t you just use other flowers for the arrangements?” Aimee shook her head. “It’s like I said yesterday, I don’t understand it, but whenever I try to use other flowers, I can’t make the statement that I can with roses. And it doesn’t matter if there’s only one rose in the arrangement, it makes a difference.”

“Interesting.”

Several moments passed in silence. “Well,” Aimee said at length, “I guess I should go.” She turned and walked toward the door, disappointment weighting her feet.

“Yesterday, Venus told me that a woman I’ve been waiting for would come my way. She wants me to help you.” Aimee stopped and turned. “Why is this so difficult for you?

What harm would there be in selling me a few hundred roses?

You’d hardly miss them.”

“I want to help you. But . . .”

“What?” she prompted.

He raked a hand through his hair and looked away. “It’s you. I’ve seen you before.”

“How? We’d never met before yesterday.”

“I know.”

He walked behind the easel and stared at the painting for a moment, then looked back at her. He picked up the canvas and turned it so she, too, could see it. A woman walked through row after row of roses. Tawny hair swirled about her face, partially concealing it. But she held back just enough so that Aimee could make out the subject’s features. It was her. He was quite talented.

It was an excellent likeness.

“It’s incredible, Ken. You did this in only one day?”

“No. I painted it last week.” He set the portrait back on the easel. “It isn’t the only one I’ve painted over the years. There are more.” He looked at the painting as he spoke. “In my mind’s eye, I see her walking among the roses. Sometimes in the morning. At other times in the bright sunshine, in the rain, at night . . . She’s why I’ve never been satisfied with other women. She intrigued me so that I—” He laughed then. “There’s no way I can say this without you thinking that I’m crazy.”

Aimee joined him behind the easel and looked from the picture to Ken, amazed.

“It’s you. You’re the woman in my dreams.” Aimee couldn’t speak.

“I didn’t make the connection at first. When I saw you standing on my front porch, you seemed so familiar. And then, when we were sitting on the couch talking . . . when I touched your hand . . . You see, you’ve been in my dreams so long, it was like I knew you. Like you were already a part of me. I guess that’s why I kissed you the way I did.”

She leaned toward him. She couldn’t help herself. She wondered if he knew about the soul mates thing Venus had declared them to be. Actually, that kind of irked her. If not for that bit of craziness the mad woman had put in her head, this wouldn’t be so uncomfortable. She wished he’d just give her the roses. That she could take them and walk away. But the idea that he could be her soul mate, and for him, that she could be his illusive vision, just made things, well, complicated. If Venus really be the goddess of love, then could she be guiding events here? It seemed more than mere coincidence, and at once, it seemed the stuff of insanity. Who in their right mind would buy into this?

So, Aimee did the only thing she could. She looked up at him and laid it all on the line. “Ken, Venus thinks she’s Aphrodite.

She told me that you were my soul mate.”

“She told me the same thing. What do you make of it?” He brushed her hair back from her face and cupped her cheek. Big mistake. Aimee stepped back out of his reach. She had to keep a clear head. No touching. That’s what Venus had advised.

Not until she had the roses. But looking into his eyes, the importance of the roses waned. A voice inside her head told her, in the scheme of things, he was much more important. Astounding. In all her adult life, nothing other than her son had ever held greater importance than roses.

All she could say was, “I don’t know. What do you think?”

“That you must be thinking I’m pathetic. What kind of man would chase a vision instead of finding a real flesh and blood woman to share his life?”

“Why would you?”

“I’ve asked myself that question hundreds of times. With you standing here before me, I know why.” He took her hands in his and said, “I was waiting for you.”

This time when he touched her, she didn’t move away.