King Series Box Set Read online

  No, it’s not just subconscious expectations. Doesn’t she think I wondered about that? But how to convince her it’s real, that’s the problem. How to make her see that we belong together no matter what happened to make it that way.

  Relief washed over me. He wasn’t thinking of a way to let me down easily.

  “A couple of things wrong with that theory,” he said, choosing his words carefully. “First, let’s say I did expect it to happen to me the way it did with my dad. I haven’t exactly been a hermit all my teenage years. I’ve met girls. I’ve even kind of liked some girls. Nothing serious,” he assured me quickly. “But still, I thought some girls in school were pretty or were fun. So if I were looking to be like my father, why wouldn’t my subconscious have jumped on the bandwagon at that point? Actually, that would have made more sense. I knew those girls better than I knew you. Some of them I’d known since kindergarten. Look at Anne, even. Why not her?

  “Second, and you didn’t know this, so I can’t blame you for thinking the way you did, this isn’t just a two-generational thing with my family. It actually goes pretty far back.”

  “What do you mean?” Now it was beginning to sound strange.

  “Before my dad met my mom, his father, my granddad, had experienced something very similar with my grandmother. They met and married within a week. They celebrated fifty years together last spring.

  “And his father, that would be my great-grandfather, saw his wife-to-be across a crowded ferry boat. He lost her when they were getting off the boat, and he waited at the dock every day for three months until he found her again. They were married a month later.”

  “Aren’t there any exceptions?” I asked curiously.

  “I have a great uncle who never married. He says it’s because he still hasn’t met the one yet. He’s sixty-four years old. Still looking for her every day.”

  “So… you’re saying that if by some twist of fate, my father’s company hadn’t moved us to Florida, you would live out the rest of your life single?”

  Michael was very serious as he took my hand. “If I hadn’t met you, yes, I would still be waiting. I have to believe that there’s something bigger than fate controlling this, though. I have to believe that if you hadn’t moved down here, we would’ve ended up at the same college or met on a trip somewhere—something like that.”

  I was silent, thinking. Michael released my hand and leaned over to kiss me lightly on the lips. “Come on. My mom probably saw the car when we went past the greenhouse and she’s in there thinking I’m taking advantage of you back here.”

  “Really?” My face flamed, mortified at the thought Michael’s mother thinking we were doing anything inappropriate in the silence of these woods. But Michael just laughed at me. He slammed his own door shut and then came around to pull me out of the car.

  “I’m just teasing you. She won’t think that at all. She’s going to love you.”

  To my complete surprise, it seemed as though Michael was right. His mother did at least appear to like me. And to me, she was amazing.

  We found her in the middle of a greenhouse, working with some kind of plant. Clueless as I was about anything pertaining to gardening, I didn’t know what she had in her hand. But she seemed to know what she was doing.

  “Hey, Mom,” Michael greeted her. “How’s it going?”

  She looked up, and instantly I knew where Michael had gotten his gorgeous green eyes. The smile that curved her lips stretched to those eyes, and she put down her tools and the plant.

  “Hello!” She welcomed me warmly. “You must be Tasmyn. The way Michael has described you, I would know you anywhere.”

  “Yes, well, about that… I’m not sure how accurate Michael’s other descriptions were…” I murmured. He laughed out loud.

  His mother ignored him completely. “I am so happy to meet you, Tasmyn. I’m Marly.”

  I don’t know what I expected Michael’s mother to be like, but it wasn’t this beautiful young woman in slim jeans and a tank top. Her hair was a little darker than Michael’s chestnut brown, and although I guessed it was quite long, she wore it in a messy ponytail, with tendrils curling around her face.

  The jitters about meeting Michael’s parents must have made me more susceptible to sensing moods and feelings. Wave after wave of happiness and welcome shone from this woman and made me feel joyful, too.

  “Thank you,” I answered her. “I appreciate you inviting me out to the nursery. It’s just beautiful.”

  She sparkled even more at that. “We do love it. It’s so rare in life, I think, that you can find something you enjoy doing and are allowed to indulge yourself. I never really saw myself working with plants, but watching Luke, I got curious… and twenty-plus years later, here we are. And I wouldn’t change it at all.”

  I looked around the greenhouse, interested. There were tables holding what looked like identical plants up and down the sides of the building. Closer to us, I saw the beat-up wooden table where Marly had dropped her tools. It held a few small pots and some additional gadgets I assumed had something to do with her work.

  I also noted a newer model radio with an MP3 player attached to it. I wondered what she listened to out here, working among all the greenery.

  Marly saw the direction of my gaze. “Do you enjoy horticulture?”

  “I love looking at beautiful plants and flowers, but I know nothing about them. My dad gardens a little, but I never really got into it. It always seems that we just get our yard perfect and then it’s time to move.”

  Marly twisted her mouth into a sympathetic face. “Michael said you’ve moved a lot. That’s got to be challenging.”

  “It’s got its pros and cons. I’ve been happier to leave some places than others.”

  She reached over and grabbed my hand, again reminding me of her son. “We hope you’re here in King for a good long while. Michael, did you ask Tasmyn about dinner tonight?”

  He was standing alongside of me, looking at the two of us smugly. “Yes, I did. And I asked Mrs. Vaughn if it was all right, too. It’s fine as long as we don’t keep her out too late.”

  Marly laughed. “Okay. Well, Tasmyn, we don’t eat too fancy out here. I’m better in the greenhouse than I am in the kitchen, but Luke runs a mean grill. And all of our vegetables are fresh from the garden.”

  “That sounds wonderful,” I replied, and meant it.

  “Michael, are you going to give Tasmyn the grand tour? Don’t forget to take her through the Christmas trees. The scent is incredible,” she told me as an aside.

  “Yeah, we’re heading out there, if you feel sufficiently introduced.”

  She raised one eyebrow at her son. “Tasmyn and I haven’t even begun to know each other. But give us time. We’ll talk more at dinner, and I’ll feel less distracted.” She gestured vaguely toward her plants.

  “Cool. That’s our cue to leave, Tas, and let her get back to her tinkering.”

  Marly smiled at me. “Enjoy yourselves, you two. Dinner around six-thirty or so. Tasmyn, it was truly a pleasure to meet you.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Sawyer. It was lovely to meet you, too.”

  We walked out of the stuffy warmth of the greenhouse into the relative cool of the outside air, and I took a deep breath.

  “I know, it gets kind of oppressive in there, doesn’t it? I don’t know how my mom stands it. I like to be outside in the air. By the way, she really would rather you call her Marly. She still thinks Mrs. Sawyer is my grandmother.”

  “Okay, I’ll remember that. Sorry.”

  “Tas.” He stopped walking and turned to me, putting both hands on my shoulders. “Stop stressing. This is not an audition or an interview. My parents are generally good, easy-going people. My mother already loves you, couldn’t you tell?”

  “I didn’t listen to her, if that’s what you mean.”

  He sighed in long-suffering patience. “I didn’t think you did. I meant, couldn’t you tell by her verbal clues that she likes you?” />
  I pursed my lips thoughtfully. “She was putting off some pretty happy vibes. And yes, she is a very warm person. I liked her, a lot,” I added.

  “I’m glad,” he said. “It would definitely make things easier if the most important people in my life get along.”

  “Am I one of the most important people in your life?” I asked wonderingly.

  He smiled at me, his eyes crinkling in the corners, and leaned into my ear. “You are,” he whispered.

  The moment seemed to freeze as I looked into his eyes. “That might be the most wonderful thing anyone has ever said to me,” I told him softly. “Thank you.”

  “I only speak the truth.” Michael dropped his hands from my shoulders and took my hand in his. “Ready for the tour?”

  Sawood Nursery was a fascinating place. Michael took me into the small shop first, and I was charmed by the garden accessories and assorted knick-knacks.

  “The shop was my sister Lela’s idea, and it’s still her baby, more or less,” Michael told me. “She does most of the buying, even now that she’s in college.”

  Next we walked out into the fields that were adjacent to the parking lot. Michael pointed out plants to me as we wandered through, the names rolling off his tongue with ease.

  “How do you remember all these?” I marveled. “Some of them look the same to me.”

  “I grew up with all of this,” he reminded me. “This is how I learned to read. It’s in my blood.” He winked at me, and I giggled.

  “So are you going to teach me?”

  “Sure. We’ll work in a botany lesson right after the driving lesson.”

  I groaned. “You’re seriously planning to try to teach me to drive shift? You don’t know how bad a driver I am. Even on cars without the extra pedal and the shifty thing.” I gestured with my hand, imitating a gearshift.

  “I trust you. And I am an excellent teacher, so there’s no problem. Come on, let me show you the trees.”

  We walked through the rows of citrus trees first, and I breathed in the heady fragrance. The ground was covered with black plastic, which made it easier going here than in other areas of the nursery. Michael noticed me enjoying the scent.

  “My favorite thing to do is to stand over there—” he gestured widely, “—between the citrus field and the Christmas tree field. You get the pine and orange smell all mixed in—it’s the best.”

  We made our way toward the evergreens. I noticed that they looked much different than the Christmas trees my parents and I chose each year.

  “Do you have Douglas firs?” I inquired.

  “No, that’s a northern tree. We import some of them already cut from North Carolina every year. Same with the frasiers. These in this field are native to Florida. The ones here—” he pointed to the row closest to us, “—are spruce pine. Then we also have sand pine and two other species of spruce. We encourage people to tag and cut their trees, because it’s better, both ecologically and economically.”

  “Why is it better to cut down a tree? I would think ecologists would want people to not cut down trees.”

  “Well, first, we grow these specifically to be cut. And the benefit that the trees offer while they’re growing is substantial. Also, remember having to transport the trees from out of state adds to air pollution, not to mention the cost of having to truck them here.”

  I was silent, looking at the endless rows of beautiful trees. “Will you save me the best of the bunch this year?”

  “Sure. I’ll tag it for you at Halloween. We don’t let anyone else tag until the weekend before Thanksgiving.”

  “Thanks. Is that one of the benefits of being an important person in your life?”

  “Definitely.” We were hidden from the rest of the nursery, standing in the midst of the evergreens. Michael pulled me close to him, drawing my two hands behind his back and linking his hands around my shoulders. “It’s very private here.”

  “It is.” All of a sudden, the relaxation I had enjoyed while touring the nursery had dissipated, and I was having trouble maintaining my mind block.

  “Tas… chill. Really. I can feel you tensing up. And I bet part of that is because you’re working hard to keep your wall up, isn’t it?”

  I flushed. I wasn’t accustomed to being so easily read; usually I was the enigma who knew what the rest of the world was thinking.

  “I thought so. Don’t try so hard. I told you before, I don’t think anything that I wouldn’t want you to hear.”

  I swallowed over the lump in my throat. “This is all very new to me. Not only the… extra kind of sharing that I can do. But the whole—the dating thing.” I had dropped my head and couldn’t meet his eyes in my mortification.

  “Hey.” Michael moved one hand to lift my chin. “Don’t be embarrassed about sharing that with me, about sharing anything with me. Okay?”

  I nodded, but my eyes were still fastened firmly to his shirt, not his face.

  “Tasmyn, remember, I’m new to this too. We’ll get through it together, but we have to be open with each other.” And then my wall totally slipped, and I could hear him continue. How do I convince her that I’m as nervous as she is? I’ve never kissed a girl before her. I’ve slow-danced a few times, but I’ve never touched a girl, in any other than a casual, friendly way. I want her to realize that… I cherish her, that I won’t do anything to lose her trust.

  I realized that having listened in on his mind, I owed it to Michael to be at least as honest as he was.

  “I’m sorry. I know it’s weird for a girl to be as old as me and not have any kind of—of experience.” Again my face flamed. “I know how I feel about you, and I trust how you feel about me. You have to understand that.” Finally I lifted my eyes to meet his, in an effort to underline my sincerity. “But I also know I’m not ready yet for any extreme level of-of physical relationship. I just wanted to be clear about that, so you didn’t feel like I was sending you the wrong message.” I took a deep breath. “Oh, and I just heard what you were thinking, too. Sorry.”

  To my surprise, he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me flush against him, and I thought I felt his lips brush the top of my hair.

  “Nothing to be sorry about. I told you that. And Tas, you don’t need to be embarrassed about being who you are. I’m happier than I can tell you that you’re not more—what did you say, experienced. I don’t have any practice there, either. We’re on a level playing field, okay?”

  I smiled broadly against his chest and lifted my head slightly. “So we’re both freaks?”

  “Well, not me. I’m just very, very selective.” With lightening speed, he moved his hands from around my back to under my ribs and tickled me until I was gasping with laughter. Before I could catch my breath, he had my face in his hands and was kissing me silly.

  “I’m not pushing, Tas,” he murmured against my lips. “And I think we need to be very cautious about being in situations where we’re—well, let’s just say where there’s too much privacy. You are gorgeous, seeing you does make me crazy… and I don’t want to put too much temptation on my plate.” He kissed me again, this time a quick caress. “But I do want to say something, right now, while we’re alone. And I don’t say this lightly.” He smoothed his hands over my hair. “Tasmyn, I love you. You don’t have to say anything back. I’m not saying this to push you. But I think it’s important to be up front about how I feel. I have never said that to anyone other than my parents and my sister. And I mean it, with every fiber of my being.”

  I was so completely overwhelmed that words were impossible. I could still hear Michael’s mind, but it was in essence repeating and confirming everything that he was saying out loud, so I didn’t listen very closely. The depth of the emotion emanating from him nearly knocked me from my feet.

  I took a deep breath and tried to make some order of my thoughts. I knew how I felt; I’d known since Tuesday, at least. But saying it was so much harder than I’d ever guessed. Telling Michael how I felt would be surrenderin
g any advantage I had in this relationship. Somehow this didn’t matter to me anymore.

  “If I say it now, will you believe me or will you think I’m just being nice?”

  I could feel Michael’s laughter shake his body, as his arms were securely around me again. “Well, I’d have to ask you—will you mean it, or are you just being nice?”

  I tilted my head back to look him fully in the face. “I wish you could hear me as well as I can hear you. Then there wouldn’t be any question, would there?”

  He chuckled again. “No, since I’m frankly amazed you didn’t hear me think it before today. I’ve been thinking it every day this week, just about.”

  “Well, I guess now you have to trust me.” My heart was pounding, and I knew I had to say it before I lost my nerve. “I love you, Michael Sawyer. I may not know things the way you do, but about this, I’m as sure as I can be.”

  We stood in the midst of the evergreen field for another few minutes, wrapped in each other’s arms and lost in the moment we had just shared.

  My driving lesson went better than I expected, although I realized with some chagrin that it was mostly an exercise in amusement for Michael. We stuck to the dirt roads on the nursery property, and I was pleased that I managed not to crash into anything. However, I also found it nearly impossible to get the car into first gear.

  “I can get from first to second and second to third,” I pointed out to Michael indignantly when he was doubled over with laughter after I stalled yet again.

  “That’s great, but you can’t consistently get from a stand-still to first gear,” he answered, gasping still.

  I made a face at him. “That’s why normal cars don’t have that extra pedal down there. Why would they make it so you have to let up on one while you press down on the other? I’m not that coordinated. I don’t think anyone is.”