Love Blooms

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Love Blooms Page 5

by Jo McNally


  Piper Taggart, the manager of the inn, had explained that this room was one of three larger corner rooms they tried to keep available for long-term guests like her. These were the rooms with the most closet space and small sitting areas to relax. In room 12, on the third floor, that meant an overstuffed armchair and ottoman in one corner, near the tall windows. There was a flat-screen TV on the wall near the chair, and Lucy had spent most of her evenings staring at reruns of 1990s sitcoms on a streaming service.

  She showered and dressed, pinning her hair back in a messy pink twist. It wasn’t easy to pin it up as short as it was now. The pink was already beginning to fade, but there was still enough to make her look like little Princess Sparkle Pony. Eventually it would be gone. Eventually she’d have to deal with the mess she’d left in North Carolina. Eventually she’d have to deal with Owen. She frowned into the mirror. The pink dye was her hourglass—slowly running out until her time was up.

  It was Thursday, so she’d be working at the flower shop today. As long as Connie hadn’t changed her mind again. It had been touch and go since Lucy helped complete the wedding order for the angry young bride last week. She’d volunteered to make some updated arrangements for the cooler display, and they’d sold well that weekend. Connie paid her a percentage. Pocket money, but it helped. Connie had an order for a dinner party at some fancy home on the shore of Seneca Lake. She’d let Lucy create three tall table arrangements.

  Lucy kept the blossoms heaviest on the bottom eight inches, then spray painted some curly willow branches with metallic blue paint she’d found in the workroom. Connie had a trio of blue china bowls on her shelves that helped keep the low profile intact. The tall narrow sticks added drama to the arrangements, but still allowed guests to see each other for dinner conversation. Mrs. Hudson declared them “divine” when she and her grandson, Mark, stopped to pick them up.

  On Tuesday, Lucy had asked Connie point-blank for a job. She couldn’t stay at the inn much longer without one, and she wasn’t ready to go back home. She’d go stir crazy without something to keep her mind off the wreckage she’d left behind in North Carolina.

  After a lot of hemming and hawing and repeated declarations that I don’t need help, Connie agreed that Lucy could work at the shop part-time. She’d help with inventory on Wednesdays, when fresh flowers arrived for weekend orders, and then she’d work five hours a day through the weekend. But Connie fixed her with a hard look before she left that day, telling her that this was strictly probationary and “might not last.” Not exactly reassuring. But Lucy knew she was skilled with arrangements. Better than Connie in some ways...certainly more contemporary with her designs. She slipped into her comfortable canvas sneakers and braced her foot on the edge of the bed to tie the laces.

  It wasn’t fair to say she was better than Connie. It was Connie’s shop, and the arrangements she’d seen were nicely done. Technically perfect. They were just a little... dated. Lucy could show her more modern displays to appeal to a younger clientele, and maybe even tackle the shop window to give it some pizzazz. Lucy wouldn’t be staying here forever, but working at the flower shop could work out for both her and Connie if she played her cards right.

  She was just sitting down at her usual breakfast table by the window in when Piper Taggart asked her The Big Question as she filled Lucy’s coffee mug.

  “So what are your long-term plans?”

  Lucy straightened. “Why? Do you need my room? I can look for...”

  “Don’t be silly,” Piper said, shaking her head. “You have room 12 as long as you need it. Even if I wasn’t terrified to refuse my sister-in-law Nikki, I’d never make you leave. I just wondered... I know you broke up with your fiancé, but what made you leave the entire state of North Carolina? Did he do something that bad?” Piper started to laugh. “And oh my God, I’m giving you an interrogation before you’ve had a chance to eat breakfast! I’m sorry.”

  Lucy had been admiring the Taggarts’ restraint since her arrival. Maybe they didn’t know all the juicy details. She smiled. “You’ve been holding in all those questions since I got here, haven’t you?”

  “And you have no idea how hard that’s been!” Piper laughed again, glancing around. It was after nine on a weekday, so the inn was quiet and the dining room empty. “But seriously, you don’t owe anyone, especially me, any explanations. Nikki doesn’t ask for many favors, so we didn’t hesitate to say yes.”

  “Nikki’s an independent one, for sure,” Lucy agreed.

  “She and Logan didn’t have the easiest childhood, with their mom gone and their dad moving them all over the country chasing his big dreams. Logan’s my hardworking gentle giant, and Nikki...” Piper hesitated. “Well, I’ve only known her a couple of years, but Nikki is so fierce about everything she does.”

  “Fierce is a good word for Nik.”

  Lucy remembered Nikki talking about how her brother had unexpectedly settled in Rendezvous Falls to run their grandmother’s inn after a lifetime of globe-hopping from one oil rig to another. These days he lived in a fanciful pink Victorian house right next door to the Taggart Inn with previously widowed Piper and her two children. As surprised as she’d been at Logan’s life change, Nikki said she loved her new sister-in-law. And she adored being Aunt Nik to Piper’s children, Ethan and Lily.

  “I only ask the questions because I want to be sure you’re okay. If you need anything, or ever want to talk or go have a drink or anything, just say the word.” Her smile brightened. “I’ll stop talking now and get your breakfast. Today’s special is our Greek omelet, if that’s okay.”

  Lucy nodded, and found herself blinking back tears as she watched Piper, petite and trim, walk away. She’d kept to herself since her arrival, not engaging much with other guests. It wasn’t as if she was vacationing here. The flower shop had kept her busy, but other than that, she’d hardly spoken to a soul. At least, not in person.

  Her phone and her social media accounts had blown up. Seemed everyone in Greensboro wanted an explanation, from friends and family like Kris to opposite-of-friends like Faye Cooper. Her parents begged her to reconsider leaving and to forgive them for not being honest about what was happening between them.

  Dad called and they’d had a long talk. He insisted the divorce wasn’t all her mother’s fault. The fight Lucy overheard was a fluke. He’d forgiven her mother. Mom called, too, but Lucy hadn’t answered. She wasn’t ready to have that conversation. Mom’s voice mails were an endless cycle of apologies and explanations that she and Dad would always be friends, but they’d fallen out of love. Lucy did not find that very reassuring—hearing how people could just fall out of love the same way kids fell out of trees.

  But it hadn’t just been her parent’s divorce. They were simply the final straw in a long line of disappointments.

  Nikki had packed up more of her clothes from Lucy’s parents’ house and shipped them to her, with a note telling her to take as much time and as little bullshit as needed for her sanity. And Owen had called. And texted. And DM’d. He didn’t understand, which was fair. Kinda hard to explain what she didn’t fully understand herself. She needed more time. Or was she just avoiding the inevitable? For someone who hated confrontation, she’d created the fodder for an awful lot of it.

  With every day that passed, Lucy realized Owen wasn’t the only reason she’d run, either. She missed the man she’d fallen in love with, and when he came home all cold and silent, it was just one more thing that knocked her off balance. He was so determined to follow the life path his parents had set for him. She just wasn’t sure anymore that she could go down that path with him. But as mad as she’d been about Owen shutting down emotionally when he returned from deployment, she knew she was doing the same thing in return.

  Piper returned with a breakfast platter, and Lucy thought she might stay and ask all of those burning questions she had. Instead, she said she had to make sure room 3 was ready for
a guest arriving shortly, leaving Lucy alone in the dining room. And surprisingly disappointed. Maybe that was a good sign. Maybe she was ready to start talking—and thinking—about what came next. Because right now she had no clue. As angry and hurt as she was by her parents, Owen’s parents and Owen himself...running away wasn’t going to solve a damn thing.

  After eating more of the giant omelet than she thought she would, Lucy put her dishes and silverware on the tray on the sideboard. Time to go see what kind of mood Connie would be in. Defensive and belligerent, as she’d been most of the time? Or reluctantly attentive, as she’d been on Sunday when Lucy was putting those dinner party arrangements together?

  Lucy grabbed her bag from her chair and headed out to the hallway toward the front door. Logan Taggart, easily a foot taller than his petite bride, Piper, and looking every inch like the former oil rig worker he was, was checking in a guest at the desk.

  A prickling sensation swept under her skin as she got closer, heading for the front doors. The man had his back to her. An olive green military duffel sat at his feet. His hair was in a near-military cut. It was an all-too-familiar chestnut brown.

  “Lucy!” Piper rushed up behind her, breathless. “I’m glad I caught you. This is your phone, right? You left it on the table and I...” Piper stopped. She followed Lucy’s gaze down the hall to the front desk and back. “What’s wrong?”

  The man at the desk had frozen as soon as Piper called Lucy’s name. He turned. It seemed like he was moving in slow motion, or maybe it was her brain moving slowly, trying so hard to understand how this could be happening. Then he was facing her, his golden eyes wide. His name fell out of her mouth in a startled breath.

  “Owen?”

  He moved toward her, and she backed up in a panic. That confrontation she’d been avoiding was now standing in front of her. Action, meet consequences. Piper jumped in front of her, facing down Owen with her finger waving in the air.

  “Stop right there, buster,” she said. Piper was only a few inches over five feet tall, but there was a fierce mama bear strength in her stance. Owen stopped abruptly, rocking back on his heels. He nodded toward Lucy, his jaw tight.

  “That’s my fiancée.”

  “Not anymore.” Lucy shook her head so forcefully that her hair started to fly free from the clips. How could he still call her that after she’d left him at the altar? His eyes were darker and more solemn than she’d ever seen.

  There was a rush of movement, and her view of Owen was blocked. Piper had been replaced between them by her husband Logan. The moment’s intensity ramped up exponentially.

  “You need to take a step back, pal.” Logan’s voice was low and calm, but it was the type of calm that came before a storm. A violent storm. “In fact, you need to step right on out of here.”

  Logan was bigger than Owen. He was every inch the clichéd mountain of a man, making his pairing with petite Piper even cuter. But Owen was a soldier fresh off deployment to one of the most dangerous places in the world. The two men glared at each other in the hallway, chests beginning to swell in posturing aggression. This wouldn’t end well for anyone if she didn’t snap out of her stupor and do something.

  “Logan...” She put her hand on his bicep and stepped to his side, feeling the rock-hard muscles pulsing beneath his shirt. Owen’s eyes narrowed even further when she left her hand on Logan’s arm, but she ignored it. “It’s okay, Logan. Owen and I...well... I wasn’t expecting him, but I’m not afraid of him.” She should have known he’d find her eventually. She gave Owen a firm look. “Stand down, soldier. Logan and Piper own this place. He’s Nikki’s brother. I’m assuming she’s how you knew how to find me?” It was a disappointing thought.

  Neither man budged. Finally Piper Taggart let out a loud sigh and moved between Owen and her husband. She stared back and forth between both men. “Okay, I’m officially declaring this testosterone competition a tie. No winners. No losers. It’s over. Let’s all step into the library where we won’t be scaring any guests who might wander downstairs. We don’t need people posting online reviews mentioning some fight they saw happening...” Pipers eyes narrowed dangerously. “In. The. Lobby.”

  The men continued their glaring contest for another beat, then Owen stepped back, holding his hands up. “I’m not looking for trouble.”

  Lucy rolled her eyes. Typical Owen. Those words should have been emblazoned across his forehead like a warning, because Owen was never looking for trouble. Or conflict. Or even an uncomfortable conversation.

  It wasn’t like she wanted him to punch Logan Taggart in the lobby or anything, but there was something infuriating about the way he backed down. Maybe it was the way his eyes had shuttered, closing himself off from displaying any emotion at all. Then again, he’d be an idiot to want her after what she’d done.

  She cleared her throat. “What exactly are you looking for, Owen? Why are you here?”

  Piper grabbed Owen’s elbow in one hand and Lucy’s in the other, steering them toward a nearby doorway.

  “Like I said, let’s move this conversation to the library.” Her voice dropped to a whispered hiss. “The Millers are coming down the stairs!”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  OWEN HAD STARTED to follow Lucy and Piper into the library when Logan Taggart stopped him with a firm hand on his shoulder. He knew the weight of that hand was intentional on Logan’s part, to emphasize his five-inch-height advantage. Owen bit back his irritation. He could drop this guy with a fist to his solar plexus and a sleeper hold from behind until he lost consciousness. But he wasn’t in the mountains of Afghanistan anymore. He didn’t need to size up everyone he met and determine how fast he could render them unconscious. Old habits died hard. He waited for Logan to make the next move.

  “I don’t know everything about the wedding-that-wasn’t,” Logan said quietly. “But one thing I do know is that my sister would never have sent you here without giving me a heads-up first.”

  “Nikki didn’t send me. I figured it out.” It wasn’t that hard after Lucy’s sister told him Lucy had borrowed her best friend’s car for her runaway caper. “I meant what I said. I’m not here for trouble. I just want my fiancée to come back home.”

  Logan’s eyes narrowed. “And if she says no?”

  Owen’s chest tightened, choking his lungs for a moment. He loved Lucy. Failure wasn’t an option here. They had a life waiting for them in North Carolina. Jobs. Families. Sure, Lucy had panicked, but she was going to get over it. If not...the unknown rose before him like a dark cloud. Lucy had to come back. Nothing worked in his life if she didn’t. He took a steadying breath, quelling his own rising panic.

  “I’m not going to force her to come with me, for Chrissakes. But... I have to at least try to get her back. Right?”

  Logan stared hard into Owen’s eyes for a moment. “I don’t know. Do you?”

  Owen looked into the library, where Lucy and Piper were talking. Lucy, naturally, was fussing with a vase of flowers on a side table. That woman couldn’t stay away from anything that blossomed. Maybe that’s why she’d dyed her hair pink, like a rose. She’d cut it, too. At the rehearsal dinner, his mother had commented that Lucy’s hair was finally long enough for a proper updo, whatever that was. Lucy had stiffened when Mom said that, which Owen didn’t understand. He was pretty sure it had been a compliment. He could just imagine what his mother would say about this pink shoulder-length hair. But...the look fit Lucy somehow. It matched the soft blush she used to get when she laughed. When was the last time he’d seen her laugh? When was the last time he’d tried to make her laugh?

  Logan’s voice lost its edge. His grip on Owen’s shoulder eased. “Are you here because you feel obligated?” The question sounded more curious than accusing. “Because you don’t want to let her have the final word?”

  Owen shook his head sharply. “That’s not it.”

  “Do you love her?


  In the library, Piper plucked a stemmed flower from the vase and shook it at Lucy, playacting something and mentioning someone named Connie. As if she’d read his thoughts, Lucy held up her hands playfully and...laughed. The sound cut through him like a sharp knife. He’d been home almost two months, and he didn’t think he’d heard that sound once. And he hadn’t even noticed. He closed his eyes and took a breath, pushing down the feelings of remorse. No time for regrets now. Once he had Lucy back home in North Carolina, they’d figure out how to laugh more. How to talk more. How to find that lighthearted feeling he used to have around her. He’d lost it somewhere in the mountains of Afghanistan, but surely Lucy could help him find it again.

  She turned and looked toward the doorway, raising a brow in curiosity. Her expression was cool. But not frightened. The way she’d jumped back in the hallway had nearly broken him. The thought that she might fear him...it gutted him. She tipped her head to the side, as if examining some puzzle she couldn’t solve. He could work with curiosity. It was at least interest. That was better than hatred. With interest, he could make her laugh again. Hopefully make her love him again. A low chuckle snapped him out of his head and back to reality.

  “Oh, man, you’ve got it bad.” Logan slapped his hand on Owen’s shoulder, but now it was a friendly guy-bro gesture. “I’m going to enjoy watching this.”

  * * *

  LUCY COULDN’T INTERPRET Owen’s expression as he stood in the doorway. Logan said something she couldn’t hear, and Owen paled, swallowing hard. Was he...was he nervous? She pressed her lips together tightly. If so, that would be the first actual emotion she’d seen on his face since his return from deployment. There was a time when she’d been concerned and tried to get him to open up to her. A time when she’d loved him. Her chin rose. But that time was over. She’d tried. She’d failed. She’d run. No going back, girl.

 

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