Sunflowers and Sweet Peas, page 1
Sunflowers and Sweet Peas
Peachland Passions Series
ALSO BY LEIGH MACFARLANE:
Stand Alone Novels:
Smoke
Honey on My Lips
Rock Bottom Ranch
Shutter’s Eye
Series:
Lakeland Things:
The Heart of Things (Book One)
The Way of Things (Book Two)
The Best of Things (Book Three)
The Merry Kind of Things (Book Four)
The Lakeland Series (Box Set)
Near and Far Magazine:
Feathers in the Snow (Book One)
Santa’s Surf School (Book Two)
Whiskey & Mistletoe
Peachland Passions
Walking Walrus Cafe
Novels Coming Soon:
Smoking Hot Summer
(Book 3 Peachland Passions Series)
Non-Fiction:
Tailgate Church
Quiet Me
Song Poetry
Non-Fiction Coming Soon:
Where the Locals Go
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is strictly coincidental.
SUNFLOWERS AND SWEET PEAS
Copyright © 2022 Leigh Macfarlane
All Rights Reserved
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without written permission of the copyright owner except for the use of quotations in a book review.
First Edition February 2022
ISBN 9781005428358
Published by LMCreative
British Columbia, Canada
http://www.leighmacfarlanecreates.com
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Follow the Author
Excerpt
About the Author
SUNFLOWERS AND SWEET PEAS
PEACHLAND PASSIONS SERIES
LEIGH MACFARLANE
LMCreative
Chapter One
The sunshine felt unbelievable on Cassidy’s bare legs. She practically sashayed her way down the boardwalk, admiring her snazzy new Vans with each step. Her strawberry blond curls felt springy as they bounced against her back. All in all, she was free wheeling and living her best life.
For fourty-five minutes. Then her lunch break would be over, and she’d be back to designing the floral centerpieces for Becka Carlson’s wedding. For Cassidy, this was a whole other kind of living her best life.
Right now, though, the sun was calling her like a beacon. In fact, she thought as she stripped the t-shirt over her head then wiggled her bikini-clad hips out of her shorts, that wave right there had her name on it. Kicking off her shoes, Cassidy dropped her towel, then braved the sharper edges of the rocks against the soles of her feet to get to the water.
She plunged, partially collapsing over a cresting wave into the clear, refreshing, slight chop of Okanagan Lake. She surfaced with a smile and pushed her dripping hair out of her face with her hands. Then she ducked her shoulders back under the water, and she struck out deeper into the lake with fifty clean strokes of front crawl.
Once she was satisfied with her spot in the waves, Cassidy flipped onto her back, then pointed her toes playfully as she lifted first one ankle then the other in and out of the water. With her arms at her side, hair waving around her head like seaweed, she floated, and let every other thought except being in the moment in the perfect Okanagan summer day drain from her head. She was the picture of contentment for several moments, then, as if some inner alarm clock had started to vibrate, she flipped back onto her belly, organized her weightless limbs underneath her, and started the swim back to shore.
“Well, look who it is.”
“You do not have an inch of fat or a stretch mark anywhere on your body.” The woman speaking had spread out Cassidy’s beach towel half in, half out of the shade of the big maple tree on the edge of the lake and had plopped her butt down on the shady side. “Frick, I think I hate you.”
Cassidy grinned at Nina. Her friend’s eyes were hidden behind the dark sunglasses she wore, but the frown on her pretty was face wasn’t believable in the slightest.
“You do not,” Cass said as she tugged her towel out from underneath Nina’s butt then lifted the terry cloth to her dripping face, “You love me.”
“Maybe,” Nina admitted, then she grinned. “Verdict’s still out.”
Bracing her arms behind her back, she leaned back and lifted her face to the dapples of sunlight getting through the leafy green cover.
“Can you believe the June we’re having?”
“Amazing, yeah.” Cassidy agreed. “You guys still getting run off your feet?”
Nina groaned.
“Don’t remind me. I’m on my break. There will be no café talk or even thoughts.”
Cassidy grinned. Nina’s mother, Monya, owned the Walking Walrus Cafe, and the waterfront restaurant was at the beginning of what was promising to be an exceptionally successful peak season. Nina helped out at the town’s favourite breakfast spot several times a week, even occasionally bringing her five-year-old daughter, Louisa, to work with her. She’d been working there half her life, and maybe it wasn’t what her friend wanted the rest of her life to look like, but she was darn good at it.
The Walrus was where she and Nina had met. Four years ago, Cassidy had opened the florist shop Sunflowers and Sweet Peas next to the Walrus. She considered the friendship that had bloomed between Nina and herself just about the best perk of that decision. That, and Monya’s coffee, helped make the pricey waterfront property rents worth it to Cass. It didn’t hurt that she could simply step across Beach Avenue to take a swim on her lunch breaks. Okanagan living at its finest, Cassidy thought with contentment.
“You guys get the notice about the new landlords?” Cassidy asked Nina, then looked over curiously when her friend groaned.
“No. No talking about the Walrus means no talking about the landlord, either. That’s all mom wants to talk about these days. That, and Brett and the wedding. You’d think the man was descended from gods the way she talks.”
“Well,” Cassidy laughed, “You’ve seen the man. It could be true.”
Behind her shades, Nina rolled her eyes.
“Well, I don’t need to hear about it all the time.”
“Prude.”
“I had a baby at nineteen,” Nina drawled, burying her toes in the hot beach, then poking them up abruptly to study the sand trickling across her arches, “Of all the names I’ve been called in my life, prude just isn’t one of them.”
Grinning, Cassidy lay herself down -- full sun, thank you very much -- on her towel beside Nina. Flat on her back, she bent one knee then gazed out past her own leg to the view of the lake beyond. With today’s breeze, the surface of the lake was dotted with sailboats, their colourful sails unfurled and full in the wind, their hulls skimming the water. They looked, to Cassidy, like nautical ballerinas as they cut through the water with grace and class.
“They’re cute together, you know.”
“I know,” Nina said. “He’s awesome. It’s about time she had someone in her life to spoil her and treat her like the queen she is.”
She reached up, lifted her shades from her face long enough to swipe at the bead of sweat forming on the bridge of her nose.
“I wish the wedding would just hurry up and get here so they could get it over with already -- instead of talking my ear off about it non-stop. That’s all.”
Eyes closed as she lay on her back and enjoying the feeling of baking in the sun, Cassidy smiled. Nina talked tough, but the love she had for the mother who’d raised her on her own was absolute. She was as thrilled as anyone about Monya’s upcoming September wedding.
“They were in the shop the other day finalizing the details for the flowers. It’s going to be an amazing day. Did she tell you…”
“Oop, hottie alert.”
Unoffended at the interruption, Cassidy opened her eyes and tilted her head lazily in the direction Nina’s chin pointed. When she recognized the man approaching their spot on the beach, her insides, as always, flipped.
Hot was definitely the right word to describe Ian Roshan. He was also a rookie cop. Raised in a family of cops, Cassidy had a hard and fast no go rule where cops were concerned. It was one of the few exceptions to her rules-are-meant-to-be-broken approach to life. Hot or not, Ian Roshan was off limits, untouchable. Her stomach could just flip right on back now.
“Well,” Nina said, jumping to her feet, “My break’s over.”
“Nina,” Cassidy hisse
“Sorry,” Nina said with feigned innocence. “Gotta go. Afternoon, Ian,” she called.
“You did that on purpose,” Cassidy hissed again, and wondered, on a scale of one to ten, just how off-the-charts rude it would be to simply keep her eyes shut tight and ignore the man. Pretty darn high, she thought with a sigh, and turned her head his way. Ready. Set. Engage.
“‘Lo, Ian.”
She smiled, and the dimples in her cheeks flashed at him. From her current position, she had a first-rate view of a pair of long, strong legs and a gun belt framing an equally solid-looking package. Which -- oops -- she’d just blatantly checked out.
He’d noticed, too, judging by the way his eyebrow arched when she pushed herself up to standing. His features immediately evened out until they were practically blank, although if he thought she hadn’t noticed the way his eyes skimmed over her sweet little navy bikini with its saucy white ruffle and its white plumeria flowers, he was sorely mistaken.
It brought out the devil in her, made her want to torture him just a little, no matter how unwise, so she took one step nearer. Her next step had her standing on the scalding pavement -- joke’s on her -- and while she danced from one burning sole to the other, his eyes lit with humour.
“Little bit hot on the feet, Cassidy?”
She smiled her sweetest smile and forced herself to stop fidgeting. She was standing here still wet from her swim and practically naked, and he was laughing at her. Not the reaction she generally got when she wore this bikini. She might be scalding every last inch of skin on the bottom of her feet, but she wouldn’t even give him the satisfaction.
“At least I’m dressed for it,” she said, “You, my friend, are looking a little overheated.”
“Step back from the Rookie, Flower Child.”
Cassidy’s smile split her face as Ian’s training officer, Buck Decker, hustled towards them carrying a take-out cup with the Walking Walrus logo splashed on front in each hand.
“He wouldn’t know what to do with you, anyhow.”
“Ow.” Cassidy’s face creased with sympathy, and she shook her head then clicked her tongue. “No respect.”
Her laughing eyes looked up into Ian’s, and then crap. She’d forgotten for just a moment how potent those movie star eyes of his were -- hazel, in this direct sunlight, almost gold -- and looking straight into them never failed to take her breath away. Like now.
And then there was the sound of a blaring car horn, and Ian’s eyes cut sideways just as a classic 1957 pink Cadillac barrelled their way, jumped the curb, and plowed right into the maple tree they’d been standing beside.
Ian didn’t hesitate. While the sounds of a classic car turning itself into an accordion ricocheted around them, he wrapped his arms around Cassidy like a reflex -- and lifted her sideways.
If his reaction time had been five seconds slower, Cass realized as she gulped in air, the tree wouldn’t have been all the Caddy hit. With Ian’s arms still around her, steadying her, she peeked over at the car with its crumpled hood. The sight of its mangled remains made her shudder. To say she was glad he hadn’t released her just yet was an understatement.
“Cassidy, Cass.”
She noted that Ian waited until she looked away from the car and back at him. She suspected her eyes were huge. The truth was, she felt pretty shocked by what had just almost happened. What would have happened if Ian hadn’t been there. Now, he was looking at her carefully.
“You okay?”
Still trying to catch the breath which seemed lodged in her throat, Cassidy only nodded. She looked back up into Ian’s beautiful eyes, saw the intense focus in them as he scanned her face, and for a second, she could only blink. When his hand slid up to cup her shoulder and he peered deeply into her eyes, awareness rushed her back to consciousness.
She was in Ian Roshan’s arms -- Constable Ian Roshan’s arms -- pressed up against his solid chest, clinging to him like a wussy baby girl. His big, warm, slightly calloused hands were on her body, one on her shoulder, one at her waist. And -- oh crap -- she liked the way they felt there. Cassidy swallowed once, then came alive in his arms.
“I’m fine.” She tried to push him away, but he held her fast a moment longer as he attempted to read her eyes. “Ian,” she nodded in the direction of the munched car with its steaming front end, “Go.”
His gaze snapped over to the car, but he kept his hands on her a moment longer. His touch was entirely professional, but the shock of her near miss had started to wear off, and Cassidy could feel her skin starting to steam where he touched her every bit as much as the engine block of the Caddy was steaming where it had jammed itself up against the tree. Ian’s hands on her body were another kind of accident just waiting to happen.
Running over to the Caddy, Decker yelled for Ian. The rookie ignored his training officer, and instead gave Cass one last, thorough look over. Whatever he saw satisfied him enough that his hands dropped. Without another word, he left her standing on the street corner.
For a second, Cass watched as Ian rushed over to peer into the passenger-side door of the ruined car. Her heart was racing, and for the life of her she couldn’t tell if it was from her near miss, or if it was because she was trying so hard to erase the memory of Ian’s strong hands on her skin. As a crowd of onlookers poured out of the nearby businesses, Cass backed up one step, then another.
She crouched and picked up her scattered clothes, shoved her feet into her new shoes, and jammed her tank top over her head. Then she just stood there, eyes on Ian’s back, knowing that, just like that, it was a new world. She was living in a new reality.
Officer Ian Roshan had just saved her life.
Apparently in so doing, he’d woken her entire body to a single, unfortunate fact. She liked the feel of Ian’s cop hands on her skin.
This was knowledge she would have been better of not knowing. It was knowledge that shook her up far more than any runaway car ever could have done.
“Ho boy.”
Cassidy dared another glance at Ian, watched how calmly and competently he handled himself in a crisis. Peeling her gaze from the eye-candy cop, she swallowed hard.
This, Cassidy knew without a flicker of a doubt, was gonna be a problem.
He’d expected her to leave.
She hadn’t.
Instead, Cassidy had stepped around the fallen chrome bumper and picked her way behind the dented maple tree so she could go stand near the driver’s door. Then she proceeded to talk the ear off Mrs. Gruen, who was sitting behind the Caddy’s wheel and was clearly in shock, while they all waited for the paramedics to show up and whisk Bob’s widow off to Kelowna General Hospital for assessment.
Bob Gruen had started out as a grease monkey for a local garage. Turned out, he had an aptitude for the mechanical aspects of a car – enough so that he’d ultimately ended up owning the place. He’d worked in that same garage all his adult life.
It had only been three months since he’d died. Liver cancer. Not, from what Ian had seen, a particularly great way to go.
Everybody knew that in life that Caddy had been Bob’s most prized possession. He was a regular with her at all the local car shows -- never missed a chance to show her off. While he was alive, some had even whispered that he loved his Cadillac more than he loved his wife. Mostly, they were joking. Now, Edna had killed the car.
It did beg the question, how exactly, had Edna come to be behind the wheel today? Had this truly been an accident? Or, Ian thought with an internal grin, was this a case of car homicide? Was seventy-one-year-old Eleanor Gruen a premeditated Cadillac murderer? One -- Ian’s thought wiped out his lapse into humour -- who had swerved into the tree on purpose and almost killed Cassidy in the process?
“How you doing in there, Mrs. Gruen?” Ian asked, leaning into the open window of the car.
