Wild Flower Read Online Free

baskets. She always insisted on doing it herself, even though Dianella tried to do it for her.
    ‘I’m not sure yet.’
    ‘You had Geraldton wax at your wedding, didn’t you, Borrie?’ Dianella had seen old photos showing huge bouquets of the small, wax like blooms in shades of purple and pink.
    ‘With my namesake Boronia mixed in for the scent.’ Borrie winked. ‘Very enticing.’
    ‘A bit of a family tradition, is it?’ the customer asked.
    Borrie snorted as she climbed down the ladder and crossed the shop floor. ‘If you think my daughter Diana wanted flowers you can pick from the side of the road in her wedding bouquet, you’re mistaken.’
    ‘What did your daughter have?’ the customer asked curiously.
    ‘Depends on which wedding.’ Borrie ticked off her fingers. ‘Roses for the first, big fat cabbage roses. Have to admit they were gorgeous. Orchids from Singapore for the second, of course. Calla lilies for the third. They’re not meant to be lucky, though this one seems to have stuck. But to not use Australian wild flowers! When we’ve got the best orchids in the world here!’
    ‘Australian orchids are only tiny.’ Dianella tried to ignore the instant pang that came from thinking about her mother’s third wedding. Not too long afterwards Diana, with Gary her new husband, had moved across the country to live on the Gold Coast.
    Borrie patted Dianella’s hand. ‘The best things come in small packages.’
    Dianella turned to the customer. ‘I can arrange the flowers too, if you like. I can do the bouquets, and the table arrangements. Even some boutonnieres. We can also find you a wild flower essence, and if you like, I’ll make you a special perfume to wear too.’
    ‘Ooh. That will drive my groom wild.’
    After the customer had gone, Borrie chortled.
    ‘Wild flower scents can work magic if the American who came in here yesterday looking for you is anything to go by. I haven’t seen anyone with that crazed look in his eyes for years. Not since my Harry first smelt my Boronia, God rest his soul. He never quite recovered.’
    ‘What?’ Dianella gasped. Wade Hamilton had visited the Go Native Nursery? He hadn’t mentioned it. He’d been talking about orchids and vanilla and her scent and then …
    ‘He pretended to browse among the pot plants.’ Borrie roared with laughter as she picked up her secateurs. ‘Anyone less interested in a pot of climbing hibbertia I have yet to witness. You haven’t told me you’re seeing someone.’
    ‘I’m not. I mean, I wasn’t,’ Dianella floundered. She’d dragged herself out of his arms with no further explanation, and rushed to her car barely saying goodbye. Her face flamed in embarrassment, remembering.
    ‘Well, you soon will be.’ Borrie pointed with her secateurs. ‘He’s just pulled up in a fancy SUV in the car park.’
    ***
    Wade sat across the table from Dianella and tried not to stare. Actually, he tried not to lean over and inhale.
    That scent. In the car, when he tried not to stare at the way her short floral dress, another 1950s style number that revealed her legs, he’d noticed the scent seemed even stronger today. What had she explained about it? Vanilla orchid mixed with Australian wild flower essences. Not too strong, still subtle, but he had become in some weird way attuned to it. Had his sense of smell been dormant all his life and now suddenly gone haywire? Walking to the hotel after that amazing kiss, like a guy from an on old movie, he’d wanted to stop at every rose he passed. And his morning coffee? Nothing had ever smelled so good.
    Except Dianella Lee.
    He hadn’t been sure she’d come out to lunch with him. If her grandmother hadn’t practically pushed her out the door, she’d have said no.
    There must be more to it than him being a visitor to her part of the world, he’d come to the conclusion. That much he’d realised as he’d lain awake until the early hours. He’d gone for a swim at the beach, hurling