The Gardener_BWWM Romance Series Read online

  The Gardener

  BWWM Romance Series

  Jamila Jasper

  Jamila Jasper Romance

  Contents

  Complete Series

  1. The Gardener

  2. FREE SAMPLE: The Fireman

  Afterword

  More Jamila Jasper Romance

  Patreon

  Social Media

  Acknowledgments

  Complete Series

  The Pool Boy

  The Plumber

  The Gardener

  The Fireman

  The Builder

  1

  The Gardener

  I hung up on Tasha half-way through her sentence.

  Why that woman insisted upon bothering me instead of Kishawn was a total mystery.

  I’m not into those sorts of things. I don’t talk about casual sex and in fact, sex is never casual — never.

  It’s a beautiful gift between man and wife. That’s it.

  I thought Tasha was like me, a little more loud-mouthed but she understood where I was coming from.

  Now that she had her little plumber fixing her pipes and laying some pipes, she started acting like a young hussy rather than a woman of age and maturity.

  Tasha insisted I get myself a younger man to “help” me out but I didn’t need one.

  My husband was the only man I ever loved and the only man I ever would love.

  The divorce had been his idea. I hadn’t wanted it! I planned to stick to my wedding vows even if he’d been with another woman. When the other woman got pregnant, I still loved Howard. When she gave birth to twins and he had to leave our anniversary party, I didn’t love him less either.

  I hadn’t been with another man since our divorce ten years ago. The last time I spoke to Howard was when his mother passed. He told me not to come to the funeral.

  Men were well in my past. I’d done it all and I had no need to turn myself into a young man’s trollop.

  I went off to Bible study, desperate for a change in conversation. The girls at Bible study were much more understanding than Tasha.

  I sat with sister Zelda, and we discussed the magnificence of our psalm reading until we had finished two glasses of Pinot Grigio. That week, Bible study had been at Zelda’s house and I stayed after to help her clean up.

  “Are you alright, Shontal?” She asked.

  “Yes, I am. Why do you ask?”

  “You were quiet today during prayer. Usually, you ask to lead.”

  “Not up to it.”

  “Did something happen?”

  “No, nothing happened. I’m struggling with some of my girl friends, that’s it.”

  “Oh. Is she sick?”

  I smiled gently, seeing the care in Zelda’s warm walnut colored face.

  “She ain’t sick. She’s just seeing this new man and it’s all she can talk about — sex this, sex that. Don’t women ever get tired of talking about sex?”

  Zelda laughed.

  “You’d think we would, wouldn’t we.”

  “I don’t see why it’s so important.”

  “It ain’t important. I’ve been celibate for fifteen years and my heart still beats the same.”

  I nodded in agreement.

  “Exactly. I mean,” I continued, “I don’t see what the big deal is. It ain’t that magical.”

  “Or that special.”

  “C’mon,” Zelda encouraged me, “Don’t worry about your friend. Focus on you and the Lord and you’ll have nothing to worry about.”

  “You’re right. I shouldn’t let it bother me.”

  “See? You already moved past it. Now let’s talk rose bushes.”

  My eyes lit up. Finally, someone who understood what really mattered: gardening.

  “They’re coming in big this year.”

  “All colors?”

  I sighed, “No. My black ones died.”

  “The ones from Holland?”

  “Yes,” I uttered morosely, “I had them shipping in special and now they’re a bunch of dead twigs.”

  “My condolences.”

  I shrugged, “It’s a part of life, right?”

  “I guess so,” Zelda said.

  “Do you still want a clipping of the red ones?”

  “Why yes, I do! I thought you’d never ask.”

  “The gardener is coming in tomorrow to do some landscaping. I’ll ask him to get you a clipping.”

  I drove home comforted by the fact that there were still women like me who understood that sex wasn’t everything.

  The next morning, I woke up early and exercised, prayed and made myself a cup of Earl Grey tea which I enjoyed with biscuits on the side. My mother was from Jamaica and that’s how she always enjoyed her tea.

  The sun created over the cul-de-sac.

  Howard and I were the first black folks to buy a house in this neighborhood and back then, the house cost us a whole $500,000 dollars — a lot of money back then and now.

  The familiar sound of my gardener’s truck sputtered down the street. He parked in front of my gate and buzzed on it. I hit the button and allowed his truck to drive up to my front door.

  I answered the door in my jeans and a plain white t-shirt and smiled at my gardener, a nice, respectful young man named Kai Lord.

  “Good morning Mr. Lord.”

  “Good morning Shontal,” he replied, grinning widely, “How are you doing this morning?”

  “Not too bad. Are you here to do the rose bushes?”

  “Yes ma’am but before we start, I gotta show you a little something I’ve got out in my truck.”

  “What is it?”

  “A little surprise. C’mon.”

  Kai always had so much energy for gardening. At 40, he ran a successful landscaping business in the Heights and had a team of over 100 employees.

  Despite all that, Kai always did my garden on his own.

  I was delighted at the sort of surprise he might have in store for me.

  I followed him out to his truck and he reached in through the front window and pulled out — a single black rose.

  The plant wasn’t a cutting, just a flower, but the petals glowed with that indigo luminescence.

  My hands jumped to my mouth.

  “Oh my goodness, Kai! Where did you get that?”

  “I have a contact. He’ll be sending out new shipments of cuttings next week.”

  “Next week!” I squealed.

  “But the other ones didn’t take,” I added morosely.

  “Don’t you worry about it. I’ll get this new crop to grow.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “I’d do anything for this garden, Ms. Weekes.”

  Color rushed to my face. Seeing Kai’s dedication to my garden made me feel like a crushing young teenager again. I was giddy with excitement over my roses. The man planting them could always make me feel like a schoolgirl with her first crush.

  I wasn’t attracted to him mind you. I’m not like Tasha and Kishawn, I understand boundaries. But nobody made me feel like Kai did about those roses. He shared a passion for plants and growing things like I did. He wasn’t a prick, just a kind man, a decent man… a man you don’t find too many of anymore.

  “Do you want to smell it?” He asked.

  “Oh yes, bring it here.”

  I sniffed the Rose, the distinct smell wafting into my nostrils and taking me back to my granny’s garden when I was a little girl.

  “Amazing. I love that smell.”

  “I do too.”

  “I’ll leave you to work now, Kai.”

  “Great. I have a surprise for you when I’m done.”

  “Another surprise?”

  He no
dded, “I think you’ll love it.”

  I grinned again.

  “Oh. We’ll see then.”

  I scurried inside before I stammered anymore and ruined things between us.

  I peered out at Kai from the window, gazing as he stripped his shirt off and slipped into his work clothes. He worked bare-chested. The heat of the sun blazing down on him made it impossible to work with a shirt on.

  He already glistened in sweat.

  I considered bringing out a pitcher of lemonade, but Kai knew to come into the house if he needed a drink. I returned to my bedroom and couldn’t help but look out the window again.

  Kai worked furiously in the sun but betrayed no details of what surprise he had in store for me. I lay down with a romance novel. The book put me to sleep fast. I woke up a few hours later. Kai was no longer in the same spot in the garden.

  My chest sank when I couldn’t spy him from my window. I made an excuse to talk to him again, this time about daffodils, but I chickened out.

  As the sun set, Kai approached my kitchen door, throwing a shirt on over his glistening abs.

  “Ms. Weekes, come see the roses,” he called through the screen door.

  I set down my shepherd’s pie dinner and rushed to the door with my apron on to see what he had been dangling in front of me all day.

  “Look!”

  He gestured to his handiwork as I rounded the corner. I gasped.

  “Kai! What have you done?!”

  “You don’t like it?”

  “No!” I blurted out.

  His face grew beet red.

  “Damn it…”

  “Language!” I gasped.

  “I worked hard on this all day, Shontal.”

  “And I appreciate that but this sculpture isn’t my style.”

  “Last week you told me you were jealous of the one in Marissa Laney’s yard.”

  “I don’t remember that,” I balked.

  “Yes, you did Shontal. You know what, don’t worry about it. I’ll trim it down to the stems.”

  He turned his back and stomped off towards the shears. He stripped his shirt off and lifted the heavy sheers, his biceps glistened in the evening sun as he ripped apart his handiwork.

  “Kai stop it! You don’t have to do that.”

  He responded by crunching the shears together faster.

  “Kai!”

  He turned to face me and flung the shears on the ground.

  “Damn it Shontal!”

  I gasped.

  “Why do you have to be so difficult?”

  “Kai, What are you talking about.”

  He was blowing this out of proportion and growing redder as a large blue vein stuck out of his forehead.

  “What the hell does a man have to do to show some interest. We flirt, we talk, I try to get close to you but every time I get even a little bit close, you push me away

  “Kai, I have no clue what you’re telling me.”

  “Don’t play dumb Shontal. I’ve seen you watching me through the window. I’ve come over here every day for the past ten years and each time, I bring you something, I call you beautiful… I do everything for you.”

  “I had no idea you felt that way, Kai.”

  “I’m just a fool then.”

  “It’s not that.”

  “I’m a simple man Shontal. All I want is for you to finally admit that what I feel for you, you feel it too.”

  “Kai, you’re my gardener.”

  “That’s it then? I’m not good enough for you?”

  I stuttered.

  “I-I’m too old for you.”

  “Bullshit, Shontal.”

  “I’m not looking for a man right now.”

  “Because of Howard?”

  I mumbled, “I don’t want to talk to you about Howard.”

  “Why the hell not?”

  “He has nothing to do with this!” I huffed.

  “He has everything to do with this. You won’t let yourself trust another man because of him. I’ve been here every day for years, Shontal. I’ve never seen another man here.”

  “Screw you, Kai! You have no right to talk to me like that.”

  “right, I’m just your gardener.”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “I’m leaving Shontal. You don’t owe me for today.”

  “I can’t let you leave without paying you!” I called after him.

  Too late. He’d already hopped into his truck and he drove away, leaving me with the ostentatious sculpture, and his t-shirt crumpled on the ground.

  I picked the shirt up. I couldn’t leave it overnight. Walking inside, I pressed it to my face and inhaled Kai’s familiar scent of freshly cut grass and icy aftershave. A tear squeezed out of my ducts.

  My black rose sat in my vase, another reminder of what I’d lost.

  Kai had a point. He had been there. Each day he talked to me and made me feel like I mattered. He loved plants as much as I did and he knew how much my ex-husband hurt me. Kai wasn’t after a one night stand. He’d been more devoted to me than any other man had.

  I dropped Kai’s shirt into the laundry and put it in for a spin cycle. I would have to call so he could come back and get it — and his tools. Kai working for me was probably over, but I had to at least try to part on good terms.

  He wouldn’t want anything more to do with me, I was sure. But I at least had to tell him thank you for trying to break down my walls. And for the flowers.

  I folded the dried shirt and set it on my countertop.

  I’d been celibate for so long and utterly dedicated to my cause to the point where I hadn’t even seen Kai’s interest in me.

  I called him the next morning but he didn’t reply.

  I called him the day after and he still didn’t reply.

  I gave up, leaving his shirt on the counter and unable to find the will to move it.

  Three days later, I woke up and found a single black rose on my doorstep. I didn’t see signs of Kai anywhere and when I called again, he didn’t answer.

  The next day, I woke up to another rose.

  No Kai.

  After twelve roses, I got up early, hoping to catch him in the act of leaving the roses behind. He had to be the one doing it. There were no other options.

  I tiptoed downstairs, keeping the lights off in the kitchen as I waited near the front door. I heard his truck and raced to the door, opening it before he could get there.

  “Shontal…”

  He wasn’t holding a rose, but a card.

  “You haven’t answered my calls.”

  He approached and put the card in my hand.

  “I don’t deserve to answer your calls.”

  “What are you talking about, Kai?”

  “Open the card.”

  I opened it.

  I’M SORRY

  “Kai…”

  “Don’t say anything. I owe you an apology Shontal. Listen, I started falling for you and I made that your problem. It’s mine. You’ve made it clear how you feel about men around here and I violated your trust. I can’t come around here and make you uncomfortable. All I can say is sorry.”

  My mouth hung open as I struggled for the words to reply to him.

  He turned around, walking back to his truck with shoulders slumped and his jacket zipped tight.

  “Kai, wait!”

  He turned around and came back to me.

  “What is it?”

  “I don’t want you to go,” I pleaded with him.

  “Shontal—“

  “No,” I replied, “I want you to stay.”

  “Stay?”