Sand Jewels (The Wishes Series) by GJ Walker-Smith Page A

giving me the heads-up by cluing me in on the story he’d spun to get her there. I was flying blind.
    “Ah, I explained to Charli that you needed some help identifying the flowers in your garden,” he began. “We spoke about it the other day…. when you came into the café…. for coffee.”
    For a man who was determined to keep our relationship a secret, he was doing a terrible job of it. He was also pleading with me to save him by rapidly blinking his eyes.
    I stepped off the porch and started walking toward the garden. “I’m so glad you remembered, Alex,” I said casually. “I’d forgotten all about it.”
    Both Blakes followed me. Charli still hadn’t spoken. I could feel Alex’s panic because of it.
    I turned back to face them. “I really appreciate this, Charli,” I said sweetly.
    Her shoulders moved as she shrugged. Her facial expression did not. “No big deal. What do you want to know?”
    “Well,” I picked one of the small purple flowers. “Do you know what this is?”
    “You shouldn’t pick them.” Charli shook her head. “It’s wasteful. Don’t pick them without reason. If you leave them where they are, you’ll get to enjoy them for longer.”
    Feeling suitably chastised, I cleared my throat. “Do you know what they are?”
    “They’re orchids,” she replied.
    I glanced at Alex, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. I knew what an orchid looked like. The flower I’d picked was small and spindly – nothing like an orchid. I held off on the eye rolling but something in my expression still gave me away.
    “They’re orchids, Mademoiselle,” she repeated, less pleasantly than before. “They’re native orchids.” She began pointing out other flowers, none of which looked particularly similar. “And so are those and those and those. The one behind your ear is called a Caladenia, but it’s still an orchid.”
    I made a quick grab for the flower tucked behind my ear, wondering what she’d say if she knew her brother had put it there.
    Alex was must’ve been thinking the same thing. I glanced past Charli to him, immediately noticing that he was blushing. I’d never seen him blush before.
    “These are called Clematis,” continued Charli, pointing to a bush of tiny pink flowers at the edge of the rockery. “They can be pink, white or purple.”
    “Really?”
    “Yes, really,” she replied dully. “The Clematises belong here. They suit you.” The look on her face was strange, as if she regretted saying it.
    I couldn’t help questioning her. “They suit me?”
    “They signify mental beauty and art,” she explained in a voice barely louder than a whisper.
    I stole another glance at Alex. He wasn’t blushing anymore. If anything, he looked as proud as punch.
    The notoriously sullen girl managed to drop the demon act for the next fifteen minutes as we walked through the garden. I learned more than I could’ve learned in a whole season of researching it on my own.
    Apparently, peonies signify shame and bashfulness. Daisies denote innocence and irises are what you send when you want to let someone know that you have a message for them.
    “That is extraordinary, Charli,” I truthfully praised. “How do you know this?”
    She briefly turned back to Alex before answering. “It’s just a hobby,” she said humbly. “Alex once gave me a book about flowers.”
    He looked embarrassed again. I gave him the tiniest smile I could muster.
    “Well, I think it’s an amazing talent,” I told her. “Do you have a favourite?” She pointed to the garden. “The tulips. They’re important in any garden. You should probably plant more.”
    I turned to look at the sea of flowers behind me. The garden bed was full to the point of overflowing.
    “I don’t think I have any room.”
    “There’s always room for more tulips, Mademoiselle,” she replied.
    It took all I had not to question Alex when I noticed him wink at her. I suddenly felt decidedly out of the loop but held my tongue.