Taming Lucinda by Normandie Alleman

Chapter 3

Cole

Islippedawaywhile Lucinda was talking to her daughter and son-in-law. I didn't think anyone even noticed me leaving. The moment other people showed up, I was invisible again.

That suited me just fine. I'd never liked the spotlight.

It did sting to see how quickly Lucinda had forgotten all about me, though. I'd expect for the others to just see me as the help, but I thought she saw something else. A naïve part of me even thought she might introduce me. Include me.

Maybe that was my mistake. A woman like Lucinda didn't get involved with a guy like me. She might fool around, but it was never going to be anything serious. We were from different worlds. She was inside her climate-controlled mansion in her skin-tight white pants, and I was baking in the Californian sun, covered in dirt. It was a miracle our paths had ever crossed to begin with; it would be greedy to expect anything more.

No use mourning what could've been. I had a job to do. There were bushes to trim, edging to touch up, pruning and transplanting—Lucinda had a large lot to work with and had given me complete creative control. It was a dream job, and jeopardizing it by sleeping with the boss had been a dumb move to begin with.

She was incredibly hot, though. Fearless. Experienced. I loved every minute I was with her, and I couldn't stop thinking about when I'd be able to have her again.

Or if I would be able to.

Through one of the windows, I caught her eye, wiped sweat off my brow, and went back to clipping with a lump in my throat. I didn't want to think about it being over.

I'd been on my own for a long time, and I'd adjusted to being a loner, but seeing Lucinda with her family brought up things I thought I'd buried a long time ago. I was happy to see her getting along with them after she'd told me a little about the rocky situation with her kids, but part of me was jealous too.

Not having a family had been a conscious decision. When I was younger, I had my hands full with my mom and brother, but as I got older, I realized having kids didn't appeal to me. Nothing against them, but that life wasn't for me.

Which was partially why I was so drawn to Lucinda.

I couldn't stop trying to catch a peek of her through the window like a lovesick puppy. Before I made an ass of myself, I decided to get out of there, clear my head, get some space.

I could accomplish all of those things—on the clock even—with one stop to my favorite place.

Alfonso's Nursery was a couple acres of emerald paradise tucked away in a secret corner of Los Angeles. There was everything from small potted houseplants to mature palm trees with all the statuary, water features, and hardscaping one could ever want. It was a wonderland for a guy like me, and I could—and often did—spend hours walking up and down every row, mentally planning beds and layouts in my head.

There was a shopping list a mile long for my Fall plans, but I wasn't looking for anything in particular as I perused. I just wanted to clear my head. To fill my nose with the scent of fresh growth instead of Lucinda's intoxicating jasmine and citrus perfume.

If I closed my eyes, I could still smell it, even surrounded by fragrant roses.

Somehow, that woman had gotten under my skin, and I didn't know what I was going to do about it.

"Aren't they so beautiful?" said a stranger behind me. A woman, probably a few years younger than me. She was attractive in that generic Instagram model kind of way—wavy blonde hair, a sundress that barely skimmed the middle of her thighs, and a tattoo of watercolor flowers going down one arm. She smiled at me and pushed her oversized sunglasses up to the top of her head as she leaned in to take a deep breath of the rose-perfumed air.

"I really love these multi-colored ones," she added, fingers gently caressing a peach and fuchsia blossom. "What's your favorite?"

She looked over to me with big blue eyes, and I knew if I wanted to, if I put in the barest amount of effort, I could take her home with me. She was practically offering herself on a platter, but I had no intention of biting.

"Always thought roses were overrated, to be honest."

Her smile deflated, and I could see her trying to pivot, the gears in her head turning.

It looked like a struggle. Lucinda wouldn't struggle like that; she was always quick with a comeback.

Damn it. I was thinking about her again. Wishing she were here with me. I'd show her my favorite plumerias and oleander, watch her eyes light up at the bright pinks and neon oranges...

"I can't decide between these two. Which do you think I should go with?" the Instagram girl asked, looking at a pair of neighboring plants.

"I think I saw an employee by that frog statue. They could probably help you figure it out," I told her, heading for the bromeliads. I'd need a whole truckload of them for my Fall plans.

The girl in the sundress stared at me with her jaw slack, as if she was waiting for me to turn, crack a smile, and let her in on the joke.

I just kept walking.

It wasn't the first time I'd been hit on like that. Typically I was politer, though I rarely flirted back. I didn't have any interest in that kind of thing. I didn't need more complications in my life, and I certainly didn't need some young girl who wanted to have babies.

Lucinda was different. Lucinda was...

Done with you,a voice in my head supplied.

If it had been someone saying it to my face, I might've punched them. Couldn't exactly attack the voice in your head, though. That asshole got away with everything. But was it right? Lucinda wanting to keep our thing on the down-low didn't mean she wanted it to end. I didn't need to jump to any conclusions. I was enjoying my time with her, and whatever she wanted, whatever happened, I'd be okay with it.

After placing a plant order worth more than I made in a year, I decided to head home. I'd done enough for one day, and despite Lucinda's cold shoulder earlier, I didn't expect she was going to fire me without me doing something egregious. Cutting out a couple hours early wouldn't be enough to do it.

Hell, with her daughter there, she probably wouldn't even notice that I’d left.

The last couple of weeks had been nice. Working during the day, watching her undress me with her eyes and parade around in ever-more revealing clothes, then unwinding with a drink and a few orgasms afterward. It wasn't what I'd call dating, but it was enjoyable.

And I didn't want it to be over so soon. So suddenly.

I didn't expect I'd be drinking alone again so soon.

At least there was one person who'd never let me be too lonely—the moment I opened the front door to my apartment, he was there to greet me.

"Meow," he said before taking a couple steps closer to rub his orange head against my shin.

"Hey, buddy." I knelt to pet him, scratching behind his ears and under his chin until he was purring.

He rubbed his face against my bent knee, then stretched and stood up with his paws on my leg.

"Yes, come on you big baby," I answered, groaning as I stood up with him in my arms. At nearly seventeen pounds, Max was not a small cat. There was a lot of fluff, but a lot of meat on his bones too.

I found Max on a job site a few years ago, right after my mom had lost her battle with ALS and my brother relapsed yet again. He seemed to come into my life at just the right time, a tiny pitiful mewing coming from a drainage pipe.

For the first few months, I took him with me everywhere. He perched on my shoulder while I got up on ladders and down into tight spaces. Eventually he'd gotten too big for me to take out on every job, but that didn't mean he'd outgrown being carried around like a little baby. He nuzzled against my neck, purring even louder. He always seemed to be extra happy to see me on the days I went to the nursery. Probably all the extra smells I brought home.

"How'd things go here?" I asked, wiping some gunk from the corner of his eye. "You hold down the fort okay? Didn't nibble on any leaves, did you?" He started licking the side of my face, his sandpaper tongue making me scrunch up my face, eyes squeezed shut. By the time his tongue got to my ear, I had to stop him.

"That's enough. I'll go shower if I'm that dirty. You want dinner first?"

"Mrow," he answered, as if the question shouldn't have been asked in the first place. Of course, he wanted dinner. In fact, it would please him greatly if I had an entire buffet left out for him all hours of the day.

Though, at that point, I would have more of a beachball than a cat. Considering I liked him being able to fit through doorways, I kept him on a regular feeding schedule.

After emptying a can of food into his bowl, I grabbed a bottle of my home-brewed beer and headed for the bathroom.

Shower beers didn't get enough credit in the world. There wasn't much better. Except maybe shared showers.

What I wouldn't do to have Lucinda in my shower with me. Well, maybe not my shower. My bachelor pad wasn't exactly up to the standards of a woman like Lucinda. I'd be embarrassed to bring her to my shoebox full of flat-packed furniture I’d put together myself. What other option was there? A hotel? That seemed insulting.

Another reason the thing I had with her would never get more serious: I had nothing to offer her.

A beer, a shower, and a shave later, I was heating up a frozen dinner in the microwave and searching for something to watch on TV, finally settling on basketball.

And wouldn't you know it, Fresno was playing—Nick Barnes' team. It was impossible to get away from that family. Impossible not to think about them—namely Lucinda.

I didn't change the channel, though. I kept it on while I ate my half-cold potatoes. I listened to the commentators while I looked over my plants, plucking off any yellow leaves and rotating them in the windowsill.

The game was down to the wire when Nick was fouled. His free throws could clinch the win. While the teams gathered around the line and he dribbled, looking up to aim his shot, the camera cut to one of the luxury boxes where Nick's wife and twins were cheering him on. They seemed like such a happy family, and if I didn't know about the tension between them and Lucinda, I might believe they were.

Nick made both his shots, the clock running down, the team rushing in to pat him on the back while his chubby-cheeked kids jumped around wildly.

For some people, that kind of praise and attention was something they could only dream of. For Nick Barnes, it was just another day at work. That was how it was for all the Barneses—playing packed stadiums, sold-out arenas, marrying royalty; they didn't live in the same world as the rest of us.

As much as I enjoyed spending time with Lucinda and wanted to keep it going, I wasn't sure I'd ever fit in with that world.