Once and Floral
By Kris T. Bethke
Published by JMS Books LLC
Visit jms-books.com for more information.
Copyright 2020 Kris T. Bethke
ISBN 9781646563081
Cover Design: Written Ink Designs | written-ink.com
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously, though reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Published in the United States of America.
* * * *
Once and Floral
By Kris T. Bethke
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Epilogue
Chapter 1
I loved weddings. Had ever since I was four years old and my Aunt Cherise got married. I was the ring bearer, and I’d taken my duty very seriously. Aunt Cherise had been the most gorgeous woman I’d ever seen, the flowers made everything seem magical, and I knew, right then and there, that I’d wanted to be in her place.
Not wearing a dress—I wasn’t the sort of man who could rock a ball gown—but holding pretty flowers and marrying the man of my dreams. My mother, God rest her, had told me later that I’d gushed about the wedding for weeks afterward, and that I told her I was going to make weddings happen when I grew up. And she didn’t even bat an eye when I told her I wanted to marry a man.
“I’ll be honored to walk you down the aisle someday, West.” She kissed my forehead and handed me my favorite stuffy, a purple dragon. “As long as he’s good enough for you.”
The memory made me smile, even if the emotions now tied to it were bittersweet. She hadn’t been able to walk me down the aisle. Coronary artery disease had stolen her life at the ripe age of fifty-six, when a heart attack from multiple blockages snuck up on her. We didn’t even know she had problems until it was too late. Silent killer, indeed.
She’d been after me to chase my dreams, and when she passed, I went after it with a vengeance. Partly because it was a stark reminder that life was too short, and I needed to live mine to the fullest for as long as I could. But also because Jenny Walker was not one to sit back and watch life pass her by, and I was doing her a disservice as her son if I didn’t follow in those footsteps.
I always inevitably thought of my mom when I was in the back room, working on wedding arrangements. And of Regina Thompson, the woman who owned the shop before me, and rescued me from the horrid wedding planner I’d worked for.
“West Walker, why are you still working for that monster?” Regina kept her voice low, but her face was set, and even though it had been three years since my mother had passed, I knew a “mom look” when I saw one.
“Because I love weddings,” I murmured back. It was the basic truth. I was able to put up with the occasional snide comments and sneers if I could just keep planning weddings.
Regina tutted, then slipped me her business card. “Come work for me instead. You might not be planning weddings, but you’ll do all the flowers and get to be there to set up. Which is the best part anyway. Sometimes I even stay, hiding in the back, just to watch.” She gave me a conspiratorial wink. “And I don’t discriminate. Race, color, creed, sexual orientation, none of that matters. Love wins, right?”
I grinned so hard my face hurt. “Right.”
“West, honey,” Lenore said, sticking her head through my office door and interrupting my trip down memory lane. My “office” was really an entire back room and work space. I’d set up my desk at one end so I had somewhere to sit and do the paperwork, but otherwise, it was where I created my masterpieces and held my consultations. “Lincoln Peters is here.”
“Thanks, Lenore.” I stood and followed her out to the main showroom, and stopped dead in my tracks at the couple standing there.
One was pretty, lean, and wore a nervous smile. The other was my fantasies come to life. Broad shoulders without being overly muscled, dark hair, dark eyes, and a strong nose and chin. He had that rugged handsomeness about him that could have been on the cover of a romance novel about cowboys or soldiers or something, and he just oozed confidence without seeming like an asshole. The warm smile on his face told it all. It made his eyes crinkle into copious laugh lines of a man who smiled big and often.
I was entranced.
But I was also professional, so I mentally girded my loins, smiled brightly, and strode forward with my hand outstretched.
“Welcome to Once and Floral. I’m West Walker.”
The bigger man let out a chuckle as he shook my hand. “Love that name.” And I blushed before he added, “Very punny.”
Ah, he was talking about the shop, not me. “Thanks.”
“I’m Monroe, and this—” he ruffled the hair of the other man “—is Lincoln.”
Lincoln swatted away Monroe’s hand and scowled, but it didn’t contain any heat. Monroe’s grin grew even wider, and he waggled his eyebrows, making Lincoln laugh. Damn they were cute.
Monroe in particular. But no, I wasn’t thinking that about one of the grooms who’d come in for a consultation. I refused.
“Well come on back and we can talk about what you want for your wedding.” I led the way, and both men followed dutifully. I gestured to the chairs near one of the worktables, and Monroe waited until Lincoln sat before sitting himself. I pulled over my rolling stool and sat as well, then grabbed the printouts I’d set there earlier.
“So the date is coming up quickly, but I don’t have any issues filling an order for you,” I began. “But I have to warn you that it might limit what you can choose. And not just from me, if you decide to go elsewhere. Some flowers can’t be instant-ordered, since they need to be shipped from hothouses farther away. With only four weeks to the big day, that’s limiting, but not overly so.”
Monroe nodded, and Lincoln blurted out, “No baby’s breath.”
I startled at the random exclamation, but nodded and marked it down. “Not a problem, not everyone likes—”
“Wilson’s allergic.” Again Lincoln.
“Linc, take a breath. It’s all fine,” Monroe said soothingly.
Lincoln nodded, sucked in a fast but deep breath, then let it out slowly. Monroe waited for him to do it again, then patted him on the shoulder.
“Sorry,” Lincoln murmured, his cheeks bright red. “I’m nervous. New people…I just…it’s hard…”
“It’s fine, Lincoln. I get it. We can take all the time you need,” I assured him. Relief coursed through him, making his shoulders sag, and until that moment, I didn’t realize how tense he’d been. He gave me a shaky smile.
“Want me to get things started until you’re more comfortable?” Monroe asked kindly. Lincoln nodded again. Monroe gave him a quick, one-armed hug, then turned his attention to me. “Our brother, Wilson, is allergic to
flowers, and baby’s breath is one that sets him off. It’s not too bad with some of the others, and if you can maybe suggest flowers that aren’t big allergy triggers, that would be great.”
“Sure I can…” What he said caught my attention and I had to fight to keep suspicion off my face. “Your brother. You’re brothers?”
Monroe let out a booming laugh and nudged Lincoln with his elbow. “I told you he’d think we were engaged.”
Lincoln mumbled something that sounded like “you’re not that funny” then took a deep breath and met my gaze. “Yes. My fiancé, James, is on duty today, so my brother offered to come with me.”
“I’m glad you have someone here with you,” I said kindly. Lincoln obviously had anxiety, and I was glad he had support with him, even though I wasn’t scary in the least. But something about those names stuck out to me. “Monroe. Lincoln. Wilson,” I muttered, trying to figure it out.
Monroe let out another laugh. “We have one more brother, too. Hayes.”
The light went on. “Presidents,” I crowed, making Lincoln jump. “Sorry, sweetie. I just…I got it. You’re all named after presidents.”
“Ding, ding, ding.” Monroe pointed at me. “I like you. No one ever figures it out without us telling them.”
“That’s fun,” I said with a smile. “Parents are history buffs?”
“Our dad,” Lincoln said, and I could tell the banter had relaxed him somewhat. I was glad to see it and decided it would be bad form to point it out. I just went on like I hadn’t noticed
“Well, don’t worry. We’ll take Wilson’s allergies into account. There are a few flowers that are known to basically be pollen free. Amaryllis, tulips, and calla lilies, for example.”
“Don’t lilies smell bad?” Monroe wrinkled his nose.
“To some people, yeah. Stargazers or Easter lilies are the worst culprits, though some people love the scent.” I reached for my flower book to show them what I meant, flipping pages, then turning around the book, pointing them out, then turned the page again and gestured to the callas. “But calla lilies have no scent at all, and amaryllis—” I turned to the right page to show off all the colors “—are beautiful, come in lots of colors, have no scent, and no pollen.”
The next half hour passed pleasantly enough. We talked about what they would need—it was a small wedding with only a best man and matron of honor, and four groomsmen. Two mothers, one father. A few arrangements to decorate the hall, and small centerpieces for each of the eight tables. Totally doable in the time allotted.
It was when we started to talk about price that Lincoln got quiet and uncomfortable again. The greenery wasn’t a problem, and the amaryllis was decent in bulk, especially for the amount I would need. But the calla lilies made the price jump to another bracket. I could see how much Lincoln wanted the calla lilies, but also how much the extra expense made him squirm.
“Don’t worry about price. I mean it, Linc.” Monroe whispered it, but it was a small room and I was close enough to hear. I pretended not to.
Lincoln sighed, then shook his head. “No. No, the amaryllis is good. They’re gorgeous and they have all the red and pink and white I want. They’re perfect.” He gave me a big smile, but it didn’t quite reach his dark, liquid eyes.
“Lincoln—”
“Just the amaryllis and the greens we talked about. One bouquet, two corsages, and nine boutonnieres. Eight small centerpieces and two larger arrangements for where we say our vows. That’s all we need.” Lincoln’s voice was stronger than I’d yet heard it, and Monroe deflated under it. But there was also something in his eyes I couldn’t interpret.
I wanted to push and find out what was going on in Monroe’s head, but it wasn’t my place. Lincoln was my client, and he’d spoken.
“All right then! I’ll draw up the contract, you read it over, and then we’ll sign and I’ll get the down payment.” I made a show of sliding across the room on my stool, because it usually amused my clients. Lincoln let out a tiny laugh, so I called it a win. I pulled up the necessary document and started filling in the blanks. “Won’t take but a moment. And I’ll have some mockups in two weeks so you can come in and approve the final designs. Sound good?”
Chapter 2
Lenore was on her lunch break and Zoe, her other employee, was off, so I was alone in the shop, frantically trying to finish the samples for Lincoln Peters in my office, when the chime alerted me someone had walked in. I stifled the curse that wanted to escape, yelled “be right there!”, and slid the final piece of greenery into the centerpiece. I’d done two different versions in the glass bowl Lincoln had chosen, and was confident he’d love at least one of them. The larger arrangements I’d filled in with other flowers of the same colors that he wanted, but I just wanted to give him an idea. He’d chosen the bouquet, corsages, and boutonnieres out of my big book, so I hadn’t had to make those.
I wiped off my hands, then headed to the front room, only to be greeted by a smiling Monroe. Who appeared to be alone. I greeted him with a smile, tried not to let my libido get the better of me—I could smell his citrusy-woodsy scent even over the flowers—and shook his hand.
“Lincoln on his way?”
“He’s stuck at work,” Monroe said with an apologetic grin. “But I’m here to approve and send pics.” He held up his phone and shook it, that ever-present grin on his face.
“All right then. Let me show you what I’ve come up with.” I gestured a little wildly and Monroe stifled a chuckle.
He followed me into the back room, and I turned, ready to explain about the larger arrangements. But Monroe’s gaze was laser-focused on me, and he opened his mouth even before I could.
“I want you to add the calla lilies. Can you still get them in time?”
“I can,” I said slowly, my Spidey senses tingling. “But Lincoln said no, and it’s his order—”
“He said no because he couldn’t justify the greater cost. But I’m paying for them. You saw his face, West. You know he wanted them.”
I nodded, but it still didn’t feel right to go against my client’s wishes. It wasn’t the first time someone had tried to change an order on the client’s behalf. Usually it was for more sinister reasons, and was often one or both of the mothers attempting it. It was against my policy to make any changes without the approval of the person who signed the contract. Before I could voice that, Monroe was speaking again.
“Listen. Lincoln is the best guy I know. He’s awkward and anxiety-ridden, but he’s so brave, putting himself out there. He was the one to walk up to James that first time.” Monroe’s expression softened. “We were out at a bar. Lincoln is so shy, and his anxiety rules his life. But he saw James and he lost his heart, right then and there. I’ve never seen him be so brave as he introduced himself and bought James a drink. James had just come off duty, he was still wearing his uniform, and most people were giving him a wide berth. Because cop, you know? But not Lincoln. He knew what he wanted and he was scared shitless, but he went after it.
“You don’t know my brother. I realize that. But he’d never put himself out there. But this time he did, and he got the man of his dreams. And they’re so good together. A wedding is just one day, but I want it to be everything Lincoln wants. Right down to the flowers. So please. Lilly boutonnieres for the grooms. One or two in the centerpieces, the bouquet, and the arrangements.”
The love and pride Monroe had for his brother just poured out of him and he was so dang earnest. I was not heartless. In fact, I was a big romantic sap. Tears prickled my eyes and I had to draw a deep breath through my nose to keep them from gathering, or worse yet, falling. I nodded without even realizing it, but I still had reservations. As much as I wanted to make Monroe happy, as much as I wanted him to be able to give this gift to his brother, the client’s order was absolute.
But I had seen Lincoln’s face when he saw the callas, and I knew he wanted them. Besides, the worst that could happen was he hated them, I had to rearrange everything
onsite, and refund the cost of the callas. With his brother’s conviction, I was almost sure that Lincoln wouldn’t make me do that. I nodded again, this time with conviction. Monroe’s huge grin showed through, splitting his face and crinkling his eyes. I couldn’t help but smile back.
“Hang on a sec.” I didn’t wait for a response, and all but jogged out of the room and to the fridge. I had to reach into the back, and I knew the callas I found there were past their prime—a little wilted and wrinkly—but they’d at least give Monroe a good idea of what they’d look like in the arrangements.
He was snapping pictures with his phone when I returned. I stood still and let him finish, then watched his strong fingers as he tapped at the screen. For just a moment, I imagined those fingers on my body and…
Nope. I cut off that thought right there. No ogling the clients, even if Monroe was technically the client’s brother. I didn’t even know if he was into men, for crap’s sake. I needed to get my thoughts in line.
“Here,” I said softly, not wanting to startle him, considering he was so intent on his phone. But he seemed to know where I was, because he didn’t act surprised. I placed a few of the sad callas into the arrangement, then broke the stem on another, matched it with a piece of greenery, and wrapped the whole thing in floral tape. With panache, I presented it to Monroe.
He gasped, playing it up for my benefit, and I had to laugh.
“That’s perfect, West. Really.” Monroe took the boutonniere from me. “He’s gonna lose his shit.”
“What?” I couldn’t quite curb the alarm in my voice.
“In a good way!” Monroe was quick to assure me. He lifted a hand as though he was going to touch me, but before he made contact, he let it drop. I was weirdly disappointed by that and almost missed what he said next. “This is going to make his day all the more special.”
“I’m glad.” There was something about Monroe’s determination to see his brother’s wedding be perfect that just touched me. I wanted to say something to him. How amazing it was that he looked after his brother this way, but before I could figure out what to say, Monroe’s phone beeped.
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