8. Garden Ranunculus – Meaning Attractive Beautiful Fascination
8
GARDEN RANUNCULUS
(PERSIAN BUTTERCUP)
MEANING: ATTRACTIVE; BEAUTIFUL; FASCINATION
MICAH
________
I clicked through the various photos on the website of Ocean’s business. Her work was fucking beautiful, and the pictures of her staff all looked joyful. I’d looked into her business because I couldn’t help myself—anything and everything to do with Ocean fascinated me, and until I could see her again, I wanted every scrap I could get.
Entendre . The flowing script dragged across the screen. Navigating to the section about the business itself, I sucked in a breath. A picture of Ocean was on the page, and she was fucking breathtaking. Wind in her hair as she sat on the beach smiling at something off camera.
I wanted to be the one messing up her hair just like the breeze, and at the same time I wanted to be the one brushing the hair back from her face so I could see those eyes.
Reading the little blurb had me smiling, and then laughing out loud as I realized what she’d done.
At Entendre , we do more than create beautiful flower arrangements for your events. We create stories. Flowers and plants have a language—otherwise known as Floriography—and whatever message you want to send with your flowers, we’ll create, combined with the aesthetic you want to achieve.
Entendre. As in double entendre.
My Omega was fucking clever.
Leaning back and closing my eyes, I tried to remember the flowers at the gala. Other than the basics everyone knew, like roses and daisies, I couldn’t claim to be any kind of expert. Was I out of my mind to be searching images of flowers to match what had been there?
Maybe.
But I was desperate.
I wasn’t the only one either.
Cam was locked away in his office, working on things that weren’t needed for weeks and months. I’d already drawn enough to make my fingers ache, and it didn’t solve the restlessness. The last time I’d seen Everett he’d been in the gym, pounding away on the treadmill and drenched in sweat like he’d been at it for a while.
I definitely wasn’t the only one suffering while we waited for a response from Frank. It hadn’t even been a whole day. I had no idea how I was supposed to make it the entire weekend.
There . In a list of common flowers, I caught sight of one I recognized. Big and almost fluffy with the amount of petals. Peony. All right. Shortly after that, I recognized a couple more. Petunias, and I knew there had been orange lilies in the arrangement.
I looked for a while longer, but didn’t find more. This would have to do until I could ask her. So what did these flowers mean?
Another search had me both chuckling and realizing I was in way over my head. I’d heard of floriography over the course of my design career, but I’d never given it much thought.
My skills were in painting and drawing. I’d dabbled in graphic design for a little while before I turned my attention to fashion and other practical designs, but my heart still rested with the traditional art. That’s what I recognized. This was Ocean’s heart.
I didn’t know shit about flowers, but if it was something Ocean loved, I’d gladly learn everything about it. Turns out even the color and sub-type of flower affected the meaning.
And orange lilies meant…
I shook my head, thinking I must have misread the screen in front of me. But no. The list of interpreted meanings was very clear. Dislike, hatred, passion, revenge, and desire. Desire felt like an afterthought in this list.
Petunias brought more of the same. Anger and disdain. Resentment. Peonies were listed as anger, bashfulness, and shame.
Sitting back, I frowned. With what Ocean said on Entendre ’s site, there was no way this was an accident. And though I didn’t know her well, Laura didn’t strike me as someone who handled the details of a gala like that. More likely they’d gone to Ocean with a color scheme, and she’d done what they’d asked.
This is what she’d given them.
Interesting.
We hadn’t known who she was when we saw her across the room. Now I wanted to know everything about her. From the second we saw her on the balcony she was captivating, and inhaling her scent was taking a match and tossing it on gasoline that had already been poured, making that draw and interest catch fucking fire.
This design choice only made me more curious, if that were possible.
I needed to see her again.
How in the hell had we never encountered her before? The number of galas and Frank popping up everywhere…
“Careful,” Cameron said, leaning against the door.
“What?”
He nodded to my hand, where it was gripping my desk so hard I was about to break it. I released the wood and shook my head. “I’m going out of my mind.”
“Tell me about it. I just sat at my desk and tried to work, but I couldn’t. Nothing came to mind for any of the projects I’m working on. I just kept thinking about her. The way she laughed when we danced. Her by the windows with the sun in her hair.”
“Look at this.”
His breath went short when he saw that picture of her on the beach. “That—” Cam shook his head. “She looks so free. It barely seems like the same person. Fuck, she’s beautiful.”
“I have an idea about why she feels different.”
“Oh?”
“Come on.” I stood and led the way out, seeing the gym empty before finally finding Everett in the kitchen biting into a pear. He still looked out of breath. “How long did you run?”
He looked at me, exhausted, leaning on the kitchen island, and blinked slowly. “I don’t know. Would still be going, but I can’t. I think I’m losing my mind.”
“Join the club,” Cam said with a chuckle.
I told them about her business and what I’d found. Everett glared out the windows. Our kitchen looked out over a grove of the magnolia trees that loved to grow here in Clarity. “If they’ve hurt her?—”
“If they have, then we’ll deal with it,” I said. “And she’ll be with us.”
“Should have made the deadline today,” Cameron breathed with a sigh. “Then we wouldn’t be in the limbo from hell.”
“With how badly Frank wants this, I hope it will be sooner.”
If Ocean said no, we’d find a different way to court her. And if she said no, I didn’t need to ask to confirm with the others to know we’d tell the Board to go fuck themselves. We weren’t marrying anyone other than our Omega, no matter what they tried to throw at us or our company.
“I’m hungry,” I said. “But no matter what Marcella left in the fridge, I already know I don’t want it.” Because anything that wasn’t the sweet taste of flowers—I desperately needed to know which one her scent was now—and sugar would be like ash on my tongue.
“Do we know anyone who can render us unconscious for the next three days?” Everett muttered, throwing the core of his pear away.
“I wish.”
“Hey,” Cameron said, his tone drawing my attention. He stared down at his phone, and the growing smile on his face had my gut tightening with hope and fear. “Check your email.”
I couldn’t get my hands on my phone fast enough.
There it was. An email from Frank McCabe to the three of us.
It’s done. Come over Saturday evening to meet with Ocean. We’ll sign the rest of the papers on Monday.
-Frank
“Thank fuck.” My whole body released the tension I’d been holding since he walked out of our office this morning.
“Monday my ass,” Everett said. “I’m showering, then going to see how fast we can get everything together. I’m not waiting longer than I have to.”
Cameron grinned. “Time to go find out what we need to apply for a marriage license. And talk to Geneva and see if she’s available for planning. Saturday’s probably too soon, but what do you think, a week?”
“You can’t make it soon enough for me,” I said. “But we’ll ask her.”
I turned and strode back to my office. I had research to do. My Omega—my wife —was going to get flowers on Saturday, and I needed to find the perfect bouquet to say everything we meant.