THE SCENT OF HER

The Bloom . Chapter 1 – Lavender Hands Introduction to Leah’s world, her trauma, and how she’s built her life around healing and solitude. CHAPTER ONE – Lavender Hands Cedar Hollow always smelled like something blooming. Today, it was lavender. A little crushed from last night’s rain, earthy and sweet, clinging to the skin. Leah Matthews stood barefoot in the greenhouse behind her flower shop, trimming the ends of the lavender stems like she was cutting away grief. She had moved back to this sleepy coastal town two years ago, heartbroken, betrayed, and exhausted from pretending she wasn’t. Her ex-fiancé had left her for her best friend — a double betrayal that still echoed in her bones when she couldn’t sleep. But the flowers didn’t ask for explanations. They just grew. The bell above the door jingled. It was early — too early for customers. She wiped her hands on her apron, stepping into the front shop. And there he was. Tall. Soaked from the rain. Dark hair clung to his forehead. A worn leather camera bag was slung over his shoulder. “Sorry—uh—Sorry-uh-I didn’t mean to intrude,” he said, voice deep and uncertain. “I’ve got a flat tire, and your shop was the first sign of life.” Leah blinked at him, her eyes catching on the drop of water sliding down his jaw. “It’s fine,” she said, walking slowly toward him. “You’ll ruin my roses if you keep dripping all over them, though.” He laughed, and it wrapped around her like the scent of warm tea. Familiar in a way she couldn’t place. “I’ll be careful,” he said. She handed him a towel from behind the counter. Their fingers brushed. Heat flared. It wasn’t fireworks — it was something quieter. Deeper. Like an old song humming in the back of the mind. “Thanks,” he said. “I’m Julian. Just passing through.” “Leah.” She didn’t say more. But the air between them held a kind of curiosity. As if he were already wondering what her name would taste like on his tongue in the dark. He stayed a little longer than he needed to. Asked about the flowers. Took a few photos. Promised to bring her coffee tomorrow to make up for dripping all over her shop. Leah watched him leave, her body suddenly too aware of itself. Something had shifted. And she hated that part of her — her-the one deep down, the part she’d buried—wanted to see what his mouth looked like when he repeated her name.