Secrets of the Tulip Sisters

“I’m no good at that. She also wants me to pick the colors. It’s plants and flowers. Those are the colors.”

“Such a guy,” she murmured. “Would you like some help? I have a bit of a design background and I’ve worked on web content before. It’s not difficult. How big is the website going to be?”

He stared at her blankly.

“How many pages?” she clarified. “Will you have drop-down menus or just...” She shook her head. “Never mind. I’m happy to help.”

“Thank you. I have no idea what I’m doing. I’m much better with my hands than on the computer.”

Yes, she was sure he was, she thought with a grin, knowing he meant working in his nursery while she was thinking something else entirely.

They came out the other side of the park and crossed a street, then ran along a dirt road lined with trees. Apples, she realized, surprised to see them growing there.

“I didn’t know someone was growing apples,” she said.

“I am.”

“These are yours?”

“Yes. I also grow blueberries. About half my blueberry crop goes directly to consumers while the rest is processed, as are the apples.”

“You ship over the mountain to eastern Washington?”

“No, I ship north to Canada. They’re both turned into sweet wine for the Asian market.”

She came to a stop and stared at him. “Apple and blueberry wine?”

He smiled. “It’s a huge market. I’m doing very well with my exports.”

A Viking god with a brain and big hands. Talk about a sparkly day.

He motioned to the small farmhouse about a half mile up the road. “That’s me. We’ve run nearly five miles. Why don’t you come inside for water, then I’ll drive you home?”

Five miles? Plus the nearly two she’d already done that day? Her normal workout was about four miles.

“Water would be great. Thank you.”

She wondered how sore she was going to be in the morning, then decided she didn’t care. Sven was interesting and she’d enjoyed running with him.

As they approached the house, she saw the large garden sprawled in every direction. There were roses to the east, some kind of orchid or lily garden to the north and what looked like a jungle of vines and bushes to the west.

“I assume there’s a plan?” she asked.

“Yes. I’m experimenting with hybrids and different soil.” He flashed her a sexy grin. “Some I grow because I like it.”

They went inside. Olivia hadn’t been sure what to expect. From the outside, Sven’s home was a traditional farmhouse but the living room was a different story.

Walls had been removed to create a completely open floor plan. Large windows offered views of the garden and let in tons of light. The furniture was modern—chrome-and-glass tables with sleek, dark leather sofas against pale-colored hardwood floors.

The kitchen had been remodeled with stainless steel appliances and poured concrete counters. The upper cabinets opened by lifting up instead of out and the pantry doors were frosted glass. There was no clutter, very little art. An iPad sat on the kitchen island and there was a bowl of cherries on the counter. Otherwise, there were no signs of life.

She could have been in a San Francisco or New York loft rather than a Tulpen Crossing farmhouse. She supposed there would be people who would find the house sterile, but she liked the clean lines and openness.

Sven watched her, his blue eyes unreadable. She admired the sculpted chairs in the eat-in kitchen and touched the glass table.

“I love it,” she told him. “The design is totally unexpected, which is a lot of the appeal, of course, but everything flows so well. You’ve made this your own.”

“Some people think it’s too cold.”

“Some people are idiots.”

“Thank you.”

He got two glasses from an upper cabinet and walked to the refrigerator. He poured water from a pitcher, then handed her a glass. She swallowed several gulps before telling herself to slow down. She didn’t want to throw up by drinking too fast, because hey, not very sexy.

“Did you design it yourself?” she asked.

“I had a basic idea, but I hired someone to help with the finishes. The whole house is like this. I put a sauna in the bathroom.”

“Of course you did,” she said with a laugh, then finished her water.

“More?”

“I should be getting home. How far is it?”

“Six miles when you don’t cut through the park. I’ll drive you.”

The house really was great, she thought. And the sauna would be delicious. Naturally it would be even better with Sven soaking up the heat with her. The man was very easy to look at.

“You’re smiling,” he said.

“I find life amusing.”

“You’re very beautiful.”

The unexpected statement surprised her. She knew how to clean up well, but that was for when she wasn’t exercising. She wasn’t even wearing mascara.

She looked up at him. Literally up—she was barely five-five and he was over six feet. She’d never been the blond hair, blue eyes type, but was starting to see the appeal. He watched her with the kind of interest a man shows a woman he wants to sleep with, but he didn’t make a move. She sensed the decision was up to her. She could say “thank you” and he would take her back to her place. Or she could say something else and things would progress. What was a girl to do?

She thought he was nice and it was obvious her body was more than a little interested. She wasn’t seeing anyone and sleeping with Sven would certainly be good for her morale, not to mention teach Ryan a lesson.

“Are you involved with anyone?” she asked.

“No. I was in a long-term relationship but it ended several months ago. I haven’t dated anyone since. What about you?”

“There’s no one.”

“What about Ryan?”

She felt herself flush. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I was at the bar the other night. I saw you there with Ryan.”

“Oh.” She hadn’t noticed him. She’d been too focused on her old boyfriend. “He’s seeing someone, which makes him much less interesting.”

“How long since you slept with him?”

“That’s a blunt question.”

One shoulder rose and lowered.

“Six years.”

“It’s time to get over him.”

“I agree.”

“I could help with that.”

She stared into his eyes and saw desire there. In response, her belly clenched. “I’m sure you could.”

“I’ll be right back.”

He walked out of the kitchen and down the hall and returned less than a minute later. He tossed a box of condoms on the island.

“I have a fantasy about making love with a woman in this kitchen. I want to take you on the counter.”

She glanced from the poured concrete to his body and saw the height would be about perfect. “That seems very doable, but why haven’t you made that happen before? Is the kitchen new?”

“No, it’s three years old.”