Chapter 2
2
ALEX
A ll my life, people have told me how smart I am. But yesterday morning I proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that I have moments of complete idiocy.
My phone shakes slightly in my hand as I check the time again, comparing it to my watch in case they somehow fell slightly out of sync. Hmm. I might arrive early. I slow my pace. My goal is to arrive at Brody’s Books at the exact same time I was there yesterday, in the hopes of seeing that magical girl again.
Is she there every morning? Or every week? Have I somehow walked past her before?
I hate that our first interaction was my elbow cracking into her back. When she had turned around, she had every right to glare at me, but her lovely navy-blue eyes were simply curious. Every single thing about her was precious. Her lovely rosebud lips. The faint pink in her cheeks from the morning sun. Her soft curves. The graceful way she moved.
Hearing that she was caring for the plants made me categorize her as nurturing, a quality that I hadn’t realized I craved until that precise moment.
I turn the corner, heart in my throat. She’s…not there.
How on Earth did I not notice those massive planters before? My assistant always points out that I completely miss anything unless it’s sent to me in an email. It’s one of the reasons Carol practically shoved me out of the office to go get my own coffee yesterday. She was worried I hadn’t gotten any daylight in months. As always, she was right.
Brody’s Books is a huge, beautiful bookstore, neatly organized by section. I’ve shopped here a few times, but yesterday was the first time I discovered their incredible coffee.
There’s a long line, but it moves quickly thanks to the efficient barista with orange and hot pink streaks in her hair whose name tag reads “Dana”. She grins when I reach the counter. “Good morning. How may I caffeinate you today?”
“Large Americano, please. No sugar.”
She snaps her fingers with a flourish. “Boom. Another no-nonsense guy here. We’ve also got protein balls and fresh muffins if your brain needs an extra kickstart.”
“Good idea. Five of the balls and a blueberry muffin, thank you.”
She bags everything up for me, and I hesitate after swiping my card. “Is there anything else?” she asks.
Feeling beyond awkward, I lean forward and lower my voice. “Yesterday there was a young lady doing some work on your planters out front. I wondered…I mean, I just have to ask…does she…” I can’t even spit it out.
Idiot.
I’m being an ass and holding up the line. “I’m so sorry. Never mind.” Stepping back, I realize someone is tapping my shoulder. I spin to see Gardening Girl looking up at me with a smirk. “Looking for me?”
“Oh. Yes.” Think fast… Think fast... “I was hoping to buy your breakfast, to make up for smacking into you yesterday.”
The way her eyes dance sends sparks straight through every single part of my body, including some bits I’ve been ignoring for ages. How can one woman possess so much beauty all at once? I feel starstruck.
She smiles, then leans around me to address Dana. “Large mocha and a blueberry muffin, please.”
I’m grinning like an idiot as I swipe my card again. Then my smile stretches even wider when she heads to the seating area instead of rushing out the door.
I follow her to a table. Once my hands are free, I extend one. “Alex O’Clery. Semi-professional awkward guy.”
She holds her hand out, flipping it twice to prove it’s clean before taking mine. “Jasmine Palmer. Plant…guru, I guess.”
Her hand feels amazing in mine. Soft, with a gently firm handshake. I like that.
“Hey – I looked up that stuff about dirt being good for immunity. It’s one of those things I’m sure I’ve read before, but it must have fallen out.”
She laughs lightly. “Yeah, we get bombarded with so much info that our melons can’t hold it all.” Her index finger taps against her temple. “Sometimes I hear yesterday’s stuff echoing around like rocks tumbling down a mountain – sorry, you wanna join me? Please, sit.”
I chuckle, doing just that. “I know exactly what you mean about information overload. And I’m sorry I didn’t shake your hand yesterday. I just spend so much time in cleanrooms that it’s an instinct at this point.”
“Ah.” She sips her coffee, drawing my attention to her inviting mouth. I bet her lips are soft. I’ve never wanted to kiss anyone more. “So, you’re a scientist?” Jasmine breaks off a piece of muffin and slips it into her mouth, making all sorts of inappropriate thoughts parade through my mind.
I have to take a moment before I can speak. “Technically, yes. I run a lab.”
“Cool. What kind of research?”
She’s genuinely interested. I love that. “Data consistency. I’m the guy who double checks the calculations on chemical experiments and reaction studies to make sure that another lab and team will achieve exactly the same results.”
“So… You’re kind of running the data through spell check?”
I laugh, sputtering. “Precisely.”
Jasmine nibbles another bit of her muffin. She seems totally comfortable hanging out with a perfect stranger who nearly tripped over her yesterday.
“What does a gardening guru do?” I ask, eager to keep the conversation going as long as possible.
Jasmine tells me briefly about her mother’s plant shop, how she’s the middle sister of three, and their respective roles at the store. Although she doesn’t come out and say it, it sounds like she is the one with the greenest thumb. I love the way she seems genuinely excited about her work.
“It’s unfathomable to me that there’s people who don’t have a single plant in their home or workplace.” She looks deeply into my eyes. “I mean, no offense – truly – but I’m guessing that would be you?”
I hang my head in shame and stick out my bottom lip, feeling a wave of satisfaction as she laughs with me. “Is it that obvious?”
“Well, it’s just that you seem pretty…you know. Businesslike. Maybe minimalist?” She pops the last of her muffin between those perfect lips, and I realize I need some excuse to keep her talking. To see her again. To prevent her from leaving my life forever.
“Plants help with stress, right?”
Her eyes smile as she sips her coffee. “Oh yes. There are official studies and everything.”
“Kind of like pets that don’t make any noise and stay put?”
A slow nod. “That’s one way of looking at it. They also clean the air and add life to your space.”
My fingers are drumming on the table. “Carol has been hounding me for months to do something to de-stress.”
I think Jasmine’s face falls. “Your wife?”
“ No ,” I chuckle. “Carol is my office manager and assistant. She’s a friend of my mother’s. Practically an aunt.”
This time Jasmine’s shoulders definitely drop a quarter inch. If that means she’s glad I’m single, then we’re on the same page. A slow, deep breath fills my lungs. I’m going to have to be forward and let her know I’m interested, quickly, before I overthink it. I can’t let myself ruin this incredible gift of running into Jasmine twice.
My palm rests on the back of her hand for barely the count of three. “How would you feel about coming to my office and doing an analysis of what kind of plants we should have?”
I wrap my hands back around my coffee as I watch her eyes hopefully. “It would only be the office and reception areas, obviously, not the labs, but that’s still a huge amount of space.”
I swear, it looks like fireworks are going off behind her eyes. “Really? That would be awesome! I have so many interesting ideas for things but haven’t had a chance to build them yet.”
“Build?”
“Yeah. I do some woodworking as well, creating custom planters and display shelving.” She reaches out and taps my hand, sending a warm glow straight through my entire system. “If you’re worried that it’d be all wacky and bohemian, don’t be. We’re talking dark wood, clean lines – very sleek and modern.”
She’s a woodworker? Of course she is. She’s also beautiful . Every detail is captivating, from the tiny freckle at the corner of her left eyebrow to the way the navy of her eyes shifts in the sunlight coming in the window. Just thinking about kissing her makes my stomach tighten in ways that my personal trainer would dream of. Her curvy figure is already etching itself into my mind.
“Sounds great.” I pull out a business card and hand it to her. “I’d love to get started as soon as you’re available.”
“Well, first of all I need to take a good look at the space, especially the lighting.” She drains her coffee, then gathers up our empty cups and wrappers. “Can I drop by this afternoon?”
“Yes.”
My answer pops out too fast. I don’t care if she knows how eager I am. I will wear my heart on my sleeve for this girl. She has no idea that she already has my mind spiraling, wondering how on Earth I’m going to ask her on a proper date.
Because as soon as I can speak to her without my heart spinning like a hamster in a wheel, that is happening.