by Noelle Adams
Maybe she wanted to make up.
No matter how much Jacob tried to convince himself otherwise, the truth was pretty obvious to him. And if Ria told him that she wanted them to give it another go, he wasn’t sure he was strong enough to say no to her.
Even knowing he’d probably end up hurting her again, he still wanted her with every cell in his body, and those few minutes with her yesterday had proven it without any doubt.
They’d been arguing. He’d been surprised and angry and frustrated and confused and guilty all at the same time. And despite all of that, he’d wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms and kiss her until neither of them could see straight.
Not the state of affairs he’d been hoping for on his return to Azalea. He’d stupidly thought he could slip in and out without rousing too many latent emotions.
After reading the text a few dozen times to assure himself there were no more clues to be had in the brief words, he climbed out of the car and walked down the block to the little flower shop where he’d spent so many afternoons in high school, hanging out with Ria as she helped her parents.
It still smelled the same as he entered now, a chime signaling his entrance. That unique mix of flowers, cleaning supplies, and musty old building. He breathed it in and tried to calm the pounding in his chest and the twisting in his gut.
Ria came out from the back almost immediately, obviously quick to greet what she must assume was a customer. She wore black capris and a charcoal-gray sleeveless top, the slim cut highlighting her tanned arms, long legs, and the luscious curves of her breasts and hips. Her hair was loose today, hanging down her back in thick, dark waves.
His body reacted to the sight of hers. His skin heated up. His muscles tensed. His groin hardened just slightly as he remembered the feel of her hair between his fingers. The texture of her skin. The way her lips parted and her eyes darkened as he brought her to orgasm.
That was really not what he needed to be thinking about right now. He slammed the mental door shut on those thoughts and gave his head a brief, hard shake. “Hey,” he managed to say.
“Hi.”
He’d caught a flicker of emotion when she first saw him—surprise, confusion, or something similar—but she’d controlled her expression into a polite smile now.
They stared at each other for a minute, and Jacob had to fight another wave of bone-deep want.
They’d known each other nearly all their lives since he’d moved in with his grandfather when he was three years old. They’d been in the same class for most of school, and they’d started hanging out in high school. For the first two years, he’d been too insecure to actually ask her out. He’d just hung around her like a shadow, waiting for her to smile or laugh or talk to him. Then, at the beginning of their junior year, he’d finally worked up the courage to ask her to a movie.
She’d said yes.
They’d dated for two years. He’d never been as close to anyone as he was to her. They’d talked for hours. They’d fallen asleep together on her couch. They’d kissed until he was on the verge of exploding with lust because she was hesitant about going all the way and he would never pressure her. But despite the torture of not finding physical release, the next day he’d do the same thing again.
Because kissing her—even without complete satisfaction—was better than anything else he’d ever experienced.
They’d had sex for the first time the evening after they graduated from high school.
And the next day his grandfather had kicked him out.
“Thanks for stopping by,” Ria said, her soft voice dragging him out of his reflections.
“Oh. Yeah. Sure. No problem.” He cleared his throat, telling himself to get it together. He’d lived long, hard years since he’d known Ria back in high school. He wasn’t a shy, lonely little boy anymore.
There was no reason to start acting like one.
“I wanted to talk more about the building,” she said.
Of course. The building. What else would she want from him anymore?
Her eyes narrowed as she studied his face. “I promise I won’t yell at you again, so you don’t have to look like I’m leading you to the gallows.” She smiled, obviously trying to lighten the mood.
He forced a smile in return. He wasn’t afraid that she was going to yell at him. He actually wouldn’t mind if she did. At least that would prove that he meant something to her.
The thing that would hurt the worst was indifference.
“Anyway.” She ducked her head for a minute and then met his eyes to continue. “I was talking to Skye and Madeline. And we have some ideas. For this block. I know you haven’t made any decisions yet, but I wanted to see if... if... you would give us a chance to make an offer if you decide to sell before you hand the town over to a developer.”
That wasn’t what he expected. Anything he expected. He stared at her for a minute, trying to adjust his expectations to her polite voice and reasonable manner.
This was worse than being yelled at. This was purely business. He searched—actively looked—and couldn’t see any of the emotional torment he was currently feeling in her face.
She was still kind of mad about the way he’d ended things. That much was clear.
But what was also becoming clear was that she’d gotten over their relationship in a way that he never had.
She hadn’t summoned him here for anything personal. Not even a fight.
She only wanted to do business.
The knowledge lodged like a lump in his throat, and he had to cough to clear it before he could get any words out. “What kind of offer?”
“We’re working on that. We wouldn’t cheat you. I hope you know that. And we know you have to do what’s best for you. But I hope you’ll give us a chance to think of something that might be in the best interests of Azalea too.”
He nodded jerkily. “Yeah. Sure. Of course. I won’t accept any offers until I hear from you.”
“Thank you. I appreciate that.” She was smiling again, but it wasn’t the smile he remembered. She seemed cooler than she used to be—not brimming with warmth and life and humor and generosity. It had always seemed like she was filled with so many good things that they simply spilled out of her.
They weren’t spilling now. Maybe she’d changed. Or more likely she just didn’t want to share her good things with him anymore.
He deserved it.
He was the one who had left.
“Of course. No problem.” So far, in this conversation, he hadn’t managed to speak a sentence of more than four words. He wished he could be as cool as she was. Even if it would be an act, at least maybe he could convince her that he’d gotten over her the way she had him. “So how have things been going for you?”
That was better. A longish sentence in a fairly natural voice.
“Good.” She was smiling again. Cool and far too distant. “Really good. Second Chance Flower Shop has been amazingly successful. I really can’t believe it. It’s a miracle.”
“It’s not a miracle though, is it? It’s because you’re smart and talented.”
She gave him a half shrug. “Maybe. But a lot of people are smart and talented and don’t find success. It’s luck as much as anything else. Plus Skye is really good on social media.”
“Yeah. I guess. But it’s got to be more you than anyone else.”
“It’s not.” She was frowning now even though he’d intended the comment as a compliment. “Madeline and Skye are just as important to the business as I am.”
He was about to respond—try to take back the idea that had evidently offended her—but the chime on the door sounded just then.
They both turned to look.
Jacob knew the man who entered. Billy something. He’d been a couple of years before them in school. He wore jeans and a T-shirt, and he was smiling as he came in.
Smiling at Ria. Jacob wasn’t going to be confused about that detail.
“Hey, Billy,” Ria said, s
miling in response. Her smile looked more like herself now. Sincere. Spilling over with good things.
Jacob experienced an immediate and uncontrollable surge of resentment.
Why did Billy get that smile from her when he didn’t?
“Hey, I’m not interrupting, am I?” For the first time, Billy glanced over at Jacob, as if he’d just realized he was there.
“No, not at all. You remember Jacob Worth?”
Billy’s eyebrows drew together. “Yeah. I think so. Good to see you.” Then he turned back to Ria, who was obviously his main point of interest here. “Hey, are you free on Saturday night?”
Jacob blinked. Did Billy not remember that he and Ria dated for years in high school? Or did he simply not care if it was awkward to ask her when Jacob was standing right there listening?
If Ria felt awkward, she didn’t show it. “Oh, I don’t know. I don’t... I don’t think so.”
“Please say you’re free. We’ve got a church picnic and concert thing, and I desperately need someone to go with me.”
“Oh.” Ria glanced briefly from Billy to Jacob and then back. “I think I’m free.”
“Perfect. So you’ll go with me?”
“Uh. Sure.” She gave Jacob another quick flick of her eyes, and he had absolutely no idea what she was thinking. “Why not?”
“Fantastic. I’ll pick you up about six?”
“I’ll be ready. Thanks.”
To Jacob’s relief, Billy made a quick exit.
If he hadn’t, Jacob would have been tempted to give him a good, hard punch.
What the hell?
When did it become standard practice to ask someone out right in front of their ex? Even if there were no lingering feelings, it was just rude.
And why would Ria be going out with Billy anyway? He wasn’t her type. At all. He was friendly enough but shallow. Not smart enough or deep enough for her.
She’d never be happy with him.
Jacob needed to rein in the sudden flood of feelings—jealousy being the primary one—before Ria could see it in the tension of his body. He purposefully loosened his fingers from the fists he’d been clenching. He breathed deeply a few times.
It was fine.
It was just a date to a church picnic.
Ria wasn’t going to fall in love with Billy. Get married. Have kids. Fall forever out of his reach—even in his daydreams, which was all he had left of her now.
“Sorry about that,” Ria said after the door closed behind Billy. “Kind of weird for him to do that when you were standing right there.”
“It’s fine.” Jacob managed to shrug. “He probably didn’t even remember that we were... a thing. Way back when.” He hated the sound of his own words. How dismissive they were. As if she hadn’t been the best thing that had ever happened in his life.
“Yeah. Probably not. Anyway, thanks for considering us for any offers. We’re working on a few things. And if you decide you want to hang on to the property, that would be great too.”
Jacob took a deep breath. He was being dismissed. Still simmering with resentment over what felt like another man encroaching on what should still be his, he blew it out purposefully.
Ria wasn’t his.
She wasn’t anyone’s.
She was a human being with her own mind and her own life and her own will and her own desires.
For a while, she’d wanted to share some of who she was with him, but that time was over now.
He’d made his own decisions a long time ago, and those decisions had led to this.
Four
ON FRIDAY OF THE FOLLOWING week, Ria sat in her car in front of the old Worth house and tried to remember the last time she’d been there.
It was the day before her high school graduation. She’d come over to hang out with Jacob for the afternoon, and they’d sat for a couple of hours on the freestanding bench swing in the backyard, talking about college and future plans.
Jacob had been planning to go to UVA with her. He’d been enrolled. He’d had a spot in the dorms. He’d done everything just like she had.
Then he’d changed his mind and dropped out the very next day.
She still didn’t understand it. He’d said his grandfather thought it was better for him to work for a while before college, but surely Jacob hadn’t had to do what his grandfather demanded. He’d been eighteen. He could have done what he wanted. Even if he’d changed his mind about college, he didn’t have to cut all ties with her.
He could have gotten a job in Charlottesville. Or he could have stayed in Azalea, and she would still have seen him every time she visited home.
There was absolutely no reason to carve her out of his life completely because of some weird whim of his grandfather’s, but that was exactly what he’d done.
It still hurt so bad. More so now that she’d seen him again. Remembered the sound of his voice. The look in his eyes. He might have changed more than she could have imagined, but there was still enough of him in him for her to vividly recall what they’d had.
What he’d thrown away.
And last weekend she’d had to suffer through an unwanted date with Billy Perkins because she’d been so rattled about Jacob and determined to prove he didn’t affect her anymore. The date had been awkward. She hadn’t enjoyed it. But Billy had called her twice already this week, probably wanting to go out again.
All because she’d wanted to prove something to Jacob.
She was so stupid.
What happened to her plan to be cool and composed and completely unconcerned about anything to do with Jacob Worth?
With a sudden flare of nerves, she glanced down at her phone to verify the text she’d received from Martha, who’d cooked and cleaned for old Mr. Worth for longer than Ria had been alive.
Mr. Worth wanted to talk to her about flowers for his funeral. He wanted Ria to come over this afternoon if possible.
She’d worked with people before on their funeral plans, but not when they were as close to dying as Mr. Worth evidently was. This felt weird. Unnatural. She didn’t want to do it and not just because he was Jacob’s grandfather.
But he evidently cared enough about this to summon her from his deathbed, so she’d come immediately.
Maybe Jacob wouldn’t be around.
Having verified for the fourth or fifth time that she was indeed invited, she climbed out of her car and smoothed down her cute little skirt. She was glad she’d dressed up more than usual today. Her black-and-white-striped skirt was quite casual—especially when paired with the sleeveless black top—but it looked a little more professional than the jeans or capris she normally wore.
Plus, if she happened to encounter Jacob, she would look good.
Martha greeted her at the door and brought her upstairs to Mr. Worth’s bedroom. The house seemed otherwise empty, so Ria decided with a sinking sense of disappointment that Jacob wasn’t even there.
She should be relieved. She shouldn’t feel disappointed. As if all the excitement had leaked out of the world.
Mr. Worth had always been a big, tanned, hard-looking man, so Ria paused for a moment when she entered the bedroom, stunned by the change the past six months had made in him. He was way too thin. Way too pale. He still had some thin hair, but it was in wild disarray.
He looked nothing like the man she remembered.
“Hi, Mr. Worth,” she said with a smile, quickly recovering herself when his eyes landed on her. “It’s Ria. Martha said you wanted me to come over.”
“Oh. Yeah. Good. Sit down, girl.” His voice was weaker but just as gruff and abrupt as it used to be.
She used to be so terrified that he’d yell at her. Pulling a chair closer to the bed, she sat down and leaned forward. “How are you doing, sir?”
“Not good. Not good at all. Don’t have much time left.”
“I’m very sorry about that.”
“Are you?” His eyes were hazel just like Jacob’s—shifting between gray and green, depending on
the light. “Can’t imagine why. Thought you’d hate the sight of me.”
“Why would I hate the sight of you, Mr. Worth?” Ria was baffled by this strange conversation, and her voice reflected her confusion.
“For what I did to Jacob. But I still think it was right. Boy was too soft. Men need to be men. Can’t be coddled. And look how well he turned out. Did the right thing. I did. It was hard, but it was right.”
Maybe his declining health had affected his mind. Ria had no idea what the context of all this was, but the possibilities were tightening in her stomach and pumping through her veins. “I’m sorry, sir. I don’t understand. What did you do to Jacob?”
The old man stared at her for a long time. Too long. She was holding her breath, waiting to see what he’d say.
“We’re here to talk about my funeral.”
She exhaled in a loud gust, her shoulders slumping just a little. “Of course. I’ll be happy to help you with whatever you have in mind.”
“I don’t want anything too pretty or over-the-top. Don’t let them pretty things up.”
“Okay,” she said slowly. “A lot of people don’t like a lot of color or variety in funeral arrangements. We could do something very classy and sober with white flowers and some greenery?”
“I guess.”
“I could show you some examples from arrangements I’ve done before.” She pulled out her phone and found the folder of photos she kept of her work. She picked out a few of the more minimalistic arrangements and showed him.
“This isn’t bad,” he said, indicating one of them, “but I don’t want that many flowers.”
“We could just do some greenery? What about like this?” She pulled up another photo to show him.
“Yes. That’s better. Do something like that. But keep it simple. Don’t want to be gussied up and prettified, even though I’m dead. And don’t let the ladies talk you into anything different.”
Ria wondered what ladies he was talking about. Maybe Martha? Who else would have a claim on his funeral arrangements? “I won’t, sir. You can count on me.”
“Good.” Mr. Worth nodded a few times. “That’s it then. You can go.”
She stood up immediately, rather baffled by the strange conversation and wondering why she’d been summoned at all. “Of course. Thank you. I promise your wishes will be carried out. I... uh, goodbye.”
