Page 25 of Finding My Bodyguard

“You garden?” I finally made my presence known as I stepped into the greenhouse. London turned to me and his eyes lit up.

“Good morning, Chocolate.” He greeted as he turned the music off. I couldn’t pull my eyes away from his shirtless body. His chiseled, tattooed chest had me in a trance. The man was fine and the plants around him only added to his aesthetic.

“Morning.” I walked closer to him, taking in the beauty of the scenery around me. The glass room was filled with plants There had to be about fifty of them.

“You garden.” I repeated it, and this time it came out as a statement and not a question. London picked up a plant, clipping the dead leaves from its pot.

“I’m a plant daddy. It’s a difference.” He smirked.

“Oh, is it?” Hearing him refer to himself as a plant daddy had me getting wet at the seat of my panties.

“It is.” He embraced me in a hug, fulfilling that urge I’d been on a search for. “How’d you sleep?”

“Good. I don’t even remember how we got back.”

“After you passed out on my dick, I had the boatman pick us up. I drove us back to the villa, undressed you, and put you in the bed.”

I giggled with embarrassment. I admitted, “I’ve never passed out like that before.”

“You never fucked me before, Chocolate.” He smirked as he let me go and returned his attention to his plants.

“I guess not,” I mumbled, glancing around.

“Tell me, Monroe, do you garden?”

“No, I kill every plant I touch.”

“Shh! Don’t say that out loud.” London took his hands up to one of his plants as if he were covering its ears. His gesture made me laugh as I looked around like the plants were about to beat my ass.

“Don’t worry. Daddy ain’t gon’ let her touch you,” he whispered to the tall leafy plant.

“You’re crazy.” I pressed a hand to my mouth to stifle my giggles. “It’s beautiful in here though, a little hot, but so peaceful.” I walked around, reading the labels on the pots as if I knew what they were.

“Thank you, Chocolate. It’s my safe space. Helps with lowering my anxiety.” He came up behind me. I could feel his body close to mine, but he stood at a respectful distance.

“Speak to it,” he commanded. I turned my head to glance at London before turning my head back to the beautiful green leaves of the plant. I’d heard of talking to flowers, but I’d never done it. I wasn’t a flowers and plants type of girl mainly because my daddy didn’t believe in buying them. As much money as he had, he saw them as a waste. Flowers die was his motto, and it became mine, too. I stared at the plant then back at London.

“What do I say?”

“Say hello.” He moved closer to my body. I took a deep breath. I didn’t know why I was so nervous about speaking to this plant, but I was.

“Hello,” I whispered. London reached around my body and picked up the plant.

“This one here is an African Iris. It’s always been my favorite. African Iris, meet Monroe Iris.” He introduced me to the plant as he moved it to another spot on the shelf.

“Did you know plants grow faster to the sound of a female voice? Just having you here gon’ have my plants bussing! I need to give this baby some room to grow.” He set the plant down. I swallowed hard at his words. He spoke as if I wasn’t a visitor—as if I wasn’t just passing by. I stood there for a minute watching as he added water to the African Iris.

“How’d you get into this?” I questioned. “Being a plant daddy and all? Who takes care of them when you're not here?” I was intrigued. There weren’t a lot of retired cartel bosses that were also a doctor and enjoyed gardening.

“Aunt Vanessa stops by, sometimes Alyza. I don’t know. I think it started when I was a kid, helping work on my family's coca farm. Somewhere down the line, I traded the coca plants for a simpler assortment.”

I shook my head. “A love for gardening that was fostered by growing cocaine plants, wow.”

“I’m a cartel baby.” He shrugged his shoulders. “What about you? What do you do for peace?”

It was a simple question, but I had to think about it. Before yesterday, I hadn’t had much peace. Each day with Kashus was spent dealing with drama and disappointment. He always had us wrapped in cheating scandals, or he was always complaining about something I did.

“I don’t know really.” I shrugged.

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