by Olivia Miles
“I can’t seem to leave this place, even though it’s all I wanted to do for years.” Mark shook his head and pushed the menu aside. “I’ll have a Western with rye and a side of bacon, Vince,” he called out. The cook glanced at him through the window pass and nodded.
“You own Rosemary and Thyme now, right?” Henry folded his paper and slid it to the side. “I was in there the other night. Nice place. I was impressed.”
Mark looked pleased. “It’s the restaurant I always wanted to be running. I just took the long road getting there.”
“And you and Anna?” Ivy had mentioned they were more than professionally linked.
Mark held up his hands. “What can I say? She’s the one.” The waitress filled his mug and he took a long gulp. “So how about you? Married? Seeing anyone?”
“Was married. Not seeing anyone, really.”
Henry frowned at his choice of words. Why leave the door open like that? He wasn’t dating—he didn’t date, not seriously, at least—and thinking about Jane Madison again hardly qualified as seeing her. Jane was off limits—she always had been. Back then, because of Adam. Now… for so many reasons. He reached for his coffee and drank it back.
“How’s Ivy doing?” Mark frowned as he shifted in his seat to face Henry. “When I stopped into the shop on Sunday she seemed a little under the weather.”
Henry’s hands stilled on his mug. He’d seen his sister the very same day and she’d told him she’d never felt better. He’d have to have a chat with his sister, and soon. There was no way he was leaving town again unless he knew this time that she was able to take care of herself.
Ivy was unloading boxes when Henry pushed through the shop door half an hour later.
“Here, let me get that for you.” He took the giant box from Ivy’s arms and set it on the counter while she signed for the delivery. “This thing weighs a ton. What’s in it?”
“Vases.” Ivy motioned to the FRAGILE sign stamped on the top. “Careful with those.”
“I’m always careful,” Henry said pointedly. He held his sister’s stare, waiting for her to come clean with him. To his frustration, she simply turned on the faucet and began filling a galvanized pitcher with water.
She wasn’t leaving him any choice. “I want you take a break from the store.”
“What?” Ivy’s eyes shot open in surprise as she turned off the tap. “Forget it. No way.”
“Mark told me about what happened on Sunday,” Henry said tightly, trying hard not to lose his temper. Ivy didn’t take her condition seriously enough, if skipping her meds proved anything.
“That’s all?” Ivy shook her head and carried a watering can over to some potted plants. “I got a little light-headed. What’s the big deal?”
“The big deal is that you aren’t monitoring your blood sugar. What did you eat for breakfast today, Ivy?”
“Stop.”
“I’d feel better if you would take the next day or two off.”
“I told you, I feel—” But she stopped when she saw the look on his face. “I suppose I don’t have any orders today. I just hate to turn away a potential customer, though.” She sighed. “What if someone plans to get engaged today, or someone has a baby?”
Henry felt the corner of his mouth begin to twitch. She cared about people, and he loved that about her. “I’ll cover for you.”
Ivy burst out laughing. “You? You don’t even know what a Gerbera daisy is, do you?”
Henry stiffened. “Sure I do.”
Ivy arched a brow and folded her thin arms across her chest. “Oh, yeah? Show me.”
They locked eyes for a beat before Henry let out a sigh of exasperation. “Okay, so I don’t know what a—”
“Gerbera daisy,” she offered patiently.
“I don’t know what a Gerbera daisy is, fine! But I can take orders and handle a cash register for one or two days.” He softened his tone. “Everyone needs a break sometimes, Ivy.”
Ivy wavered. “If someone calls for a delivery, can you try to push them off? Unless it’s something urgent, like a new baby or—”
“Or an engagement. Fine.” He was getting somewhere. He just hated that he had to strong-arm her into it.
It took another half hour of Ivy’s excuses before Henry could usher her out the door. Deciding to make himself useful, he found a broom in the back room and swept the shop floor and then the little stoop out front, where leaves had fallen overnight. Afraid to touch the flowers for fear of killing them, he got a rag and dusted the containers and work surfaces, and even washed the windows, inside and out. He was just starting to feel like he had a handle on things when the door jingled.
Shit. A customer. He could only hope it was one who knew what they liked and didn’t expect any fancy ribbons.
His stomach heaved with dread, but when he turned to face the door, his pulse quickened with interest. Jane stood frozen in the doorway, staring at him with those big eyes, and he slipped her a grin before he remembered how they’d left things, how mad at him she was.
He took a step forward, letting his gaze drift down to those long legs, his gut twisting with sudden desire. He was eager for the chance to explain himself, to get a second chance.
But that didn’t mean he was going to get one.
CHAPTER
12
You have got to be kidding me. Jane glanced around the room, hoping her horror didn’t show on her face. “Is Ivy here?” She craned her neck hopefully, even as it became obvious that Ivy wasn’t around. She glanced to the door and studied it longingly. Oh, to turn and leave. Or better yet, to have never walked in. It had been a mistake coming here; she should take this as a sign.
Across the room, Henry’s smile was friendly, revealing a glimpse of his dimple. His blue eyes gleamed with invitation, and Jane felt her heart turn over. He couldn’t make this easy, could he? He couldn’t just be a jerk, prove to her that she was right to keep her distance. He had to be the nice guy, the guy he always was. The yin to Adam’s yang. Nevertheless, she reminded herself, always at Adam’s side.
“She’s taking the day off, actually,” he said casually.
Ivy taking the day off? The shop closed once a week, and even then Ivy used the day to visit the flower market, or catch up on paperwork. Jane and Grace used to joke that she gave Anna a run for the biggest workaholic in Briar Creek. Something wasn’t right. “Is she okay?”
Henry nodded, but his jaw pulsed, and Jane had a sneaking suspicion he wasn’t being completely honest. Ivy had looked so pale lately, but there were often times when she seemed tired and run down. Jane just chalked it up to her being overworked and stressed. Now she wondered if there was more to it.
“I’m covering today. Is there something I can help you with?”
Jane couldn’t hide her surprise. “You’re… covering. For Ivy. Here?”
Henry folded his arms across his chest and leaned a hip against one of the display tables. “That’s right. Is that so hard to believe?”
His hands pulled his navy-striped rugby shirt tight against the curves of his thick biceps. She traced her gaze up the length of them, over the wide span of his shoulders, remembering the way she felt in his arms when he turned her around the dance floor all those years ago. Jane blinked and looked up to lock his hooded gaze. She swallowed. Hard. “Just surprising, that’s all.”
Henry held her gaze for a second more, then relaxed his stance. “What can I help you with then? We have some pretty Ger-garber-gro… We have some nice daisies over here.” He pointed to some potted purple mums.
Jane bit the inside of her cheek. Why was it so impossible to stay mad at Henry? She wanted to turn and run, to yell and scream and blame Henry for not warning her that Adam was dropping hints about his plans, but maybe that wasn’t fair of her. No one could have known what Adam was up to, after all.
“I was just stopping in to see Ivy.” Jane edged backward, gearing up to make an excuse and then bolt, but the door behind her swung open as she di
d, causing her to jump.
“Mrs. Griffin.” Jane felt her mouth curve into an easier smile at the sight of the local innkeeper. “How nice to see you.”
“And you too, dear.” The words were spoken with a smile, but immediately the woman’s brow pinched, her bright green eyes slanted in concern, and the telltale hand went to Jane’s wrist.
Here we go.
“And how are you holding up, dear?”
“I’m fine,” Jane said, baring a smile through clenched teeth. She means well, she told herself.
“Only fine?” Mrs. Griffin winced.
“I’m fine, really, Mrs. Griffin, just… peachy.” Peachy? Why couldn’t she have said something like wonderful, great, never better? Because she couldn’t lie, that’s why, and when she tried, she said things like… peachy.
“That bad, dear?” Mrs. Griffin shook her head, her lips pinching into a tight, almost painful frown. “That man didn’t deserve you. A bright, sweet, beautiful thing like you. You had so much to offer, so much ahead of you! You know what you need, don’t you?”
Jane stifled a sigh. She may as well get it over with. “What’s that?” she managed, bracing herself.
Mrs. Griffin tightened her grip on Jane’s arm. “The love of a good, strong man, that’s what.” Suddenly noticing Henry, Mrs. Griffin’s eyes brightened, and her entire face lit up with a smile. “And well, well. What do we have here?”
She waggled her eyebrows, sliding a sly smile to Jane.
Oh, for God’s sake.
“Hello, Mrs. Griffin,” Henry said affably. Jane couldn’t even meet his eye. Chances were he found all this entirely more amusing than she did. “I’m covering for Ivy today. Can I help you with something? Some nice daisies perhaps?”
As he went to motion to the mums again, Jane intervened, quickly gesturing to the galvanized pot of Gerberas. “Aren’t they pretty?” she asked, grinning broadly.
Henry immediately fell silent.
“Oh my, they are. But they’re not exactly what I had in mind…” Mrs. Griffin turned her attention back to Henry, who seemed to stiffen. “I was thinking some dahlias might look beautiful on the coffee table in the lobby. Can’t you just picture it, in front of the hearth? A really… romantic flower, dahlias are. Gerberas are pretty, but they’re a bit too… casual for what I have in mind. And right now, I’m feeling inspired.” She beamed.
Henry nodded slowly. “O-kay…” He shifted his eyes around the shop, and Jane bit down on the corner of her lip. She tried to subtly point to the bin, then motion dramatically with her eyes, but he didn’t catch her hint. “What about sunflowers?” he asked, energetically crossing the room to a huge bucket of the flowers.
Mrs. Griffin pulled a face. “Not elegant enough for my tastes. Hardly screams romance, Henry.” She tutted at Jane.
“What about some roses?” Jane suggested, but Mrs. Griffin wrinkled her nose.
“Too expected. No, dahlias will suit me just fine.” She crossed her hands in front of her, waiting.
Jane met Henry’s bewildered look and squared her shoulders. She crossed the room and plucked a beautiful peach dahlia stem. “Dahlias really are beautiful.”
Henry was quickly at her side, his shirt brushing up against her arm as he began assisting Mrs. Griffin with her order. Jane felt a quiver zip down her spine and she snatched back her hand. Her gaze lingered on his thick forearms, where he’d pushed up his sleeves. The smell of musk was somehow stronger than the perfume from the hundreds of flowers, and more pleasing, too.
She closed her eyes, briefly, imagining what it would be like to lean in, press her body across that hard chest, and feel his arms wrap around her waist.
She jolted herself upright. Safe, she decided quickly. It would feel safe. In… a brotherly way.
She roamed her gaze up over that chiseled jaw and her breath caught as he flashed her a smile. Her insides pooled.
There was nothing brotherly about that.
“So…” Henry stood behind the farm table, clutching the stems in his fist, blinking at Mrs. Griffin, who seemed prepared to wait for him to say what he had to say, however long it would take. “Did you want these in a vase?”
Mrs. Griffin waved a hand through the air. “Oh, I have plenty of vases at the inn. Crystal,” she added, arching a brow and turning to make sure even Jane had taken note.
Jane smiled to acknowledge the fact, then slid a hand over her mouth as she met Henry’s wide eyes.
“Okay, so… er…” Henry’s breath seemed to come in spurts as he gingerly set the flowers onto the brown paper Ivy used to wrap her bouquets.
There was no way he would know how to tie a bow unless it was a shoelace, and Jane would take bets on the fact that he wouldn’t angle the paper correctly, either.
Sure enough, he began to roll the paper directly from the side, instead of the corner, and soon the flowers were encased in a paper tube. As Mrs. Griffin’s shocked gaze grew wider and wider, Jane blurted, “Is that the phone?”
Both Henry and Mrs. Griffin stopped to gape at her.
“I don’t hear anything,” Mrs. Griffin remarked.
Jane paused and held up a finger. “There it is again. It’s the phone in the back room,” she explained to the older woman, then gave a not so subtle glance at Henry. “Ivy keeps that ringer on low, so she doesn’t disrupt the customers. It might be important—I’ll handle this for you if you need to take it.”
Henry stepped back from the flowers as if they were a ticking bomb. “It might be about that um… order of… carnations.” Without another word, he disappeared into the back room.
Jane stepped around the corner, tossed the rumpled and torn paper in the bin behind her, and started over.
“Carnations?” Mrs. Griffin wrinkled her nose. “Ivy doesn’t sell carnations now, does she?”
Jane just smiled. “I think she’s looking for ways to accommodate everyone’s taste and budget. After all, it’s the thought that counts.” She would have been thrilled if Adam had ever bought her carnations, especially the pink ones.
“Carnations,” Mrs. Griffin muttered.
Jane wrapped the dahlias, secured the arrangement with twine, and rang up the order. As she held the door for Mrs. Griffin, Henry reappeared. “Thank you for coming in today,” he said to the innkeeper.
“And thank you for your assistance.” Mrs. Griffin smiled. She paused in the doorway, her eyes darting from Jane to Henry. “These will add such a romantic touch to the lobby. It really is such a cozy place to sit and chat, have a glass of wine… Nothing like snuggling up on a couch in front of a crackling fire to warm these chilly autumn nights, hm?” Her smile was anything but innocent.
Henry shifted on his feet. “You do have a lovely inn,” he offered diplomatically.
When Mrs. Griffin was gone, Henry turned to Jane, heaving a sigh and grinning ear to ear. “I owe you.”
Jane tossed him rueful smile. “You’re right. You do.”
“You’re still mad at me for not telling you that Adam mentioned he might be moving.”
Just hearing the words caused Jane’s breath to catch. For a moment she’d been distracted, caught in Henry’s presence, in that grin, and the way his hands moved as he gathered the flowers. In the way they might move across her bare skin… Reality crashed down on her like a cold, harsh blast. Adam was moving, and he wanted Sophie to come with him.
“I’m starting to understand why you didn’t think to tell me,” Jane said. “But I still wish you had.”
“I didn’t know about his plans for Sophie, Jane. He never mentioned that part.”
Jane knew from the crinkle in his blue eyes he was telling the truth. Adam wouldn’t have been stupid enough to blurt that out. He let his attorney do his dirty business and handle the majority of his communication.
“Do you… know what you’re going to do?” Henry’s voice was gentle, and it would be so easy to tell him she hadn’t a clue, that she was fighting to hold it together for even five minutes without
bursting into tears, but she couldn’t tell him that. She couldn’t tell him anything. Anything she said could possibly be mentioned to Adam, and that would be disastrous.
“I’m letting my attorney handle it,” she said instead.
Henry nodded. “If you need anything, Jane, I’m here. I hope you believe me.”
Her heart wanted to believe him, but she had to think with her head right now. Now wasn’t the time to be taking foolish risks, not when one mistake could cost her her daughter. “Well, I’m happy I could help you today. Ivy’s put a lot into this store, and I know she thrives on making sure her customers are satisfied.”
“You mean, you don’t think Mrs. Griffin would have been happy with some mums on her lobby table?”
Jane laughed. “How did you know?”
“I quickly skimmed one of Ivy’s flower books while I was hiding in the back room.” Henry grinned. “Nice save, by the way.”
“As I said, I’m happy to help.” Jane let a sigh roll through her shoulders as she glanced around the room. It was probably time to go. She’d stop by another day to see if Ivy was looking for part-time help, but with Henry pitching in while he was in town, she supposed she’d be better trying somewhere else first. She’d move on to the next stop on her list—the stationery shop—or maybe she’d drop by the inn, see if Mrs. Griffin needed seasonal help. There was no use in checking on Main Street Books. When she’d passed by it was clear that Grace had everything under control for the day.
Henry’s hooded gaze locked hers, and Jane realized she was lost in thought, and that quite possibly she had been staring at him this entire time. Heat rushed to her cheeks, and she covered her nervous energy with a small smile.
“Well, I should probably go. Tell Ivy I said hi.” She set a hand on the cool brass doorknob, but Henry closed the distance between them with two quick strides.
Jane’s entire body went rigid as she looked up into his eyes. Her heart pounded with each breath.
“Wait.”
“Yes?” Jane whispered. She could feel the rise and fall of her chest, and she wondered if he sensed it, too. It was hot in here—it wasn’t just the flame in her face—and she suddenly wished she had managed to get the door open before he stopped her. The smell of his skin was all-consuming.
