Page 36 of The Scent of Happiness

“I’m going to make sure you don’t look this time.” He covered her eyes with one hand. She put both of hers on top of his, and they stood in silence for perhaps five seconds, but it felt longer. Being without sight brought her other senses to the fore—the texture of his skin on her face, the warmth of his hands, the sound of his breathing. Her heart raced at the unexpected intimacy of it. They were just playing around in the gardens, trying to forget a bad day. That’s all this was, right? A game?

Theo whispered in her ear. “What’s this? Not your feelings, not your perceptions. Just tell me what this is.”

Brooke thought about what was currently in bloom and what was within his reach, but one whiff of the vanilla-honey scent told her everything. “Heliotrope.”

“Damn, you’re good.”

She dropped her hands and he uncovered her eyes. He was in perfect focus, standing close enough so she could see every feature without her glasses. He didn’t move as she studied his stubbled jawline and full lips. Why was she staring at his lips? She forced her eyes to his, but that was worse. His eyes were dark and deep, with a kind of hunger in them. Was he going to kiss her? Did she want him to? All she had to do was turn her head the other way, move forward an inch or maybe two. He’d meet her halfway, wouldn’t he? It would be one of those natural, easy kisses, the kind that happened when two people had the same desire and decided to act on it at the exact same time.

The gardenia and heliotrope were long gone and she inhaled a rich breath of Theo—raw, exciting, hot. Would he taste as good as he smelled?

She gulped and stepped backward, letting his features blur. She fumbled in her pocket for her glasses and stuck them on her face. She needed to see clearly. She smelled the mint on her fingertips, the wool of her cardigan, the scent of shampoo in her hair as she twisted her face away. Anything to get the fragrance of Theo out of her nose.

She couldn’t read his expression. Maybe she’d misjudged the whole thing. They were just two friends, classmates, something, who happened to end up in the same place today. No need to make it more. She needed to calm her heartbeat, make her stomach stop flying away. She needed fresh air.

Theo squared his shoulders and turned in the other direction, toward a part of the gardens they hadn’t explored. “Shall we uh…” He cleared his throat. “Shall we finish the tour?”

She shuffled her feet on the pathway. “Yes, we should.”

They walked side by side, not touching, silent for a long moment. Theo stopped by a nemesia plant, covered in delicate peach-pink blooms. “If you were a flower, which one would you be?”

“I don’t know,” Brooke said. “How could I choose one?”

“You’d be a mixed bouquet?”

“Why not?” Brooke smiled. “That seems accurate. How about you?”

“I’d be something straightforward. A carnation or something.” He cast his eyes upward. “Boring.”

“But not unwelcome,” Brooke said. And not at all boring. “Everyone likes carnations.”

Now that the moment had passed, Brooke was sure she’d imagined the almost-kiss. She let herself relax and enjoy Theo’s company. As they explored plumeria, African lilac, and lemongrass, he seemed more at ease too. He used his nose more and his eyes less, sometimes not even reading the signs. He listened to her observations, made associations of his own, and made her laugh out loud several times.

They took in the beauty of the orchids without touching them—too delicate—and ended with jasmine, which was always the highlight of her visit to the botanical gardens.

They sat on a bench. “How is your nose so cute and little?” Theo asked. “With your accurate sense of smell, your nose should take up half your face.”

“Size doesn’t matter.”

“So I’m told.”

Brooke laughed. “Honestly, my nose doesn’t work better than yours. But I remember what I smell. I’m used to soap fragrances, so I have a vocabulary.”

“See? You have the advantage of a lexicon. You know what things are called.”

“I have a vocabulary, not the vocabulary. I can describe a scent, but even then, it’s subjective. There’s no right answer.” Brooke put a reassuring hand on his. “It’s okay not to know something.”

“I’m starting to get that.” Theo sprawled on the bench and tipped his head back. “You make me want to smell everything. Like I want to open my spice cupboard and sample every jar.”

“You cook?”

“All the time.”

“But you don’t smell your spices before you cook with them?”

“I will now.”

“You can do it with anything.” She retrieved a granola bar from her bag and opened the package. She held it under his nose. “Don’t identify this. We both know what it is. And don’t you dare tell me about oats and nuts and sugar.”