Flowers on Main

by Sherryl Woods

  But she had to try, because whatever the future held for her professionally, the one thing she’d realized since coming home was that she still very much wanted Jake to be a part of her life again. She’d settle for his friendship and no more, if that’s all he allowed, but if she were to admit the truth, she wanted the love back, too.

  Megan walked off the plane and into the terminal with a confidence she was far from feeling. The minute she saw Mick waiting for her, her pulse scrambled the way it had the very first time she’d seen him all those years ago. She’d known at first sight that he was the one, and even after all these years and all the heartache he’d caused her, apparently he still was. Even so, she was a long way from letting him in on that little secret. In fact, unless he proved that he truly had changed, it was a secret she’d carry to her grave.

  She saw the precise instant when he spotted her in the crowd of arriving passengers. That slow, tender smile spread across his face and his blue eyes sparkled with masculine appreciation as his gaze swept over her. Fifteen years ago she would have given anything to have him look at her like that. Maybe then she wouldn’t have—

  She stopped the thought. Water under the bridge. Mick had finally forgiven her for those two foolish nights when she’d basked in another man’s attention, done it deliberately in plain view at Brady’s so word would be sure to reach her husband. She’d gambled then and lost. As for now, if Mick had determined not to dwell in the past, there was no reason she should.

  “You look just like the girl I married,” he said, sweeping a nosegay of flowers from behind his back and handing them to her.

  Touched, she took them from him and buried her face in the mix of pink tea roses and lily of the valley, flowers he’d obviously remembered were her favorites. Or had he? More likely this was Bree’s doing.

  “I’ll have to thank Bree for creating such a beautiful bouquet,” she said.

  Mick looked hurt. “Are you thinking she’s the only one in the family with a touch of romance in her soul?” he asked. “I picked these out myself, from our garden, I might add. The roses, anyway. The lily of the valley Bree had to order for me.”

  “Really?” she said, unable to keep the note of skepticism from her voice. “And you made this lovely nosegay?”

  “With a little help from our daughter, yes,” he insisted. “I told her I couldn’t claim it, if I didn’t do the work, so she coached me through it.”

  She gave him an apologetic peck on the cheek. “Then I’m sorry and I thank you for the thought and the execution. The flowers really are beautiful, Mick. They’re my favorites.”

  “I think of that each and every time I walk along the garden path at the house in the spring when the lily of the valley is in bloom,” he told her with disarming sincerity.

  Megan studied him with bemusement. “Are you trying to turn my head, Mick O’Brien?”

  His grin spread as he took the handle of her suitcase from her. “I thought I’d made that clear some time ago,” he said with a wink. “Any more luggage?”

  She shook her head. “No, just the one bag.”

  He regarded her with disappointment. “Then it’s just to be another short visit?”

  “Through the weekend,” she said, trying not to be too pleased by the fact that he so clearly wanted her to stay on.

  His gaze met hers and held. “And what will it take to bring you back for good, Meggie?”

  She swallowed hard. “I honestly don’t know.”

  “Then I’ll have to be increasingly inventive and persuasive,” he concluded. “I used to know how to change your mind about things.”

  “I’m tougher now,” she warned him.

  “And I’m more clever,” he replied with a wicked glint in his eyes. “You’ll see, Meggie.”

  She felt her defenses slip at the conviction in his voice. It was true that she’d once found his charm irresistible. She suspected the same would be true now…unless she steeled herself against it or made sure they were never alone. It was good that she’d be at Abby’s again.

  “There’s been a change in plans,” Mick said as they set off toward Chesapeake Shores.

  She studied him warily. “Oh?”

  “I thought you and I could have dinner at Brady’s tonight,” he began.

  “But I wanted to go to the shop and help Bree and Abby with all the last-minute details for tomorrow,” she protested. She certainly didn’t want to spend an evening in a romantic seaside setting with her too-charming ex-husband. They’d shared far too many cozy evenings together at Brady’s—at least before she’d chosen it as the setting for her dinners with another man—and she knew this was Mick’s deliberate attempt to recapture those intimate moments, to reclaim the setting as their own.

  “Everything at the shop is under control,” he assured her. “If you don’t believe me, you can give them a call.” He held out his cell phone. “The number’s on there.”

  She knew that placing the call would be a wasted effort. Mick had obviously cleared this plan with their daughters.

  “And what other plans have you made behind my back?” she asked testily.

  He turned to her for a quick glance, then faced the road again before speaking. “You’ll be staying at the house,” he said, his expression bland.

  “No,” she said firmly. “Abby’s expecting me.” She was determined to insist on that much at least.

  “Actually, Connor will be staying at Abby’s,” he said. “He’s bringing some of his law-school buddies down from Baltimore for the weekend and there will be more room for them there.”

  She studied him with a narrowed gaze, not entirely buying the explanation. Had the extra visitors been their son’s idea or Mick’s? “How convenient,” she said dryly, suspecting a scheme.

  He beamed at her without so much as a hint of guilt in his expression. “I was thinking the very same thing myself,” he said cheerfully.

  She sat back in her seat, folding her arms across her chest. “It’s not going to work, you know.”

  “What?” he inquired innocently.

  “Making sure I’m back under your roof doesn’t mean I’ll be coming anywhere near your bed,” she said directly, wanting to get any ideas he might have along that line right out of his head.

  “Our bed,” he corrected mildly. “It’s the same one you picked out when we were married.”

  “That doesn’t make it ours,” she said tightly. “I left it a long time ago.” She gave him a challenging look. “If Connor’s going to be at Abby’s with his friends, I’ll stay in his room or in the guest suite. It doesn’t matter.”

  Mick sighed, then gave her a chiding look. “Did you really think I’d expect you to come to my bed? I might have hoped for it or even dreamed about it, but I’ve already moved my things into the guest suite.”

  Megan felt foolish when she heard that. “I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions.”

  He shrugged. “It wasn’t a huge leap. If it were up to me, we would be sharing that bed, same as always, but it’ll take time for that to happen.” He gave her a look loaded with meaning. “For both of us.”

  Megan swallowed hard. She could cope with his arrogance, maybe even with his flirtatious charm, but this Mick? Being sweet and intuitive? He scared her, because she didn’t have a defense in her entire arsenal that could withstand that.

  It was nearly seven o’clock Friday night by the time Jake braced himself to walk into Flowers on Main. The party was still in full swing and the place was packed, with the crowd spilling over onto the sidewalk and even onto the green across the street where the band of Irish musicians was playing both traditional and contemporary music.

  He’d figured by coming late, putting in an appearance when it was still crowded, he could be in and out without spending more than a minute or two in Bree’s company.

  He caught sight of her behind the counter, her cheeks pink, her eyes sparkling, her wayward auburn curls escaping from a careless topknot to frame her face. She looked radi
ant, at least until she caught a glimpse of him. Then her expression sobered and some of the light in her eyes died.

  Jake was about to turn away and retreat, when a familiar voice chimed in his ear. “Running scared?” his sister inquired tartly.

  He whirled around and glared at Connie. “You! What are you doing here? If I’d known you were stopping by, I’d never have set foot in here.”

  “Which is precisely why I didn’t admit I was coming,” she told him. “Did you honestly think I wouldn’t be curious to see this place?”

  “I took you at your word,” he grumbled.

  “Well, you’re here now. Go on over there and congratulate Bree. She’s done a fabulous job with the space, and the flower arrangements are to die for. They make your flowers look downright elegant. This shop will be a huge asset to our business and to the town.”

  He glanced around, though he wasn’t surprised to see that Connie was right. As he’d anticipated after seeing her sketches, Bree did have a deft touch when it came to mixing colors and textures in arrangements ranging from simple to extravagant. If this was what she wanted for the rest of her life—which he still doubted—there was no question she’d succeed at it.

  Connie gave him a gentle but determined shove. “Go,” she ordered.

  He took a few steps, then to his relief, he spotted Mack just outside the door. He detoured in his direction, only to see that he was entirely focused on Susie, whose back was literally pinned to the wall as if she was trying to escape and had run out of room. To Jake’s eye, she looked a little frantic, but at the same time there was something else going on. Even he could feel it.

  Susie O’Brien might be fighting the attraction to Mack with every fiber of her being, but she was losing. That much was clear in the way her lips parted as she listened raptly to whatever tale Mack was spinning. If a woman had looked at Jake like that, he wouldn’t have missed the signal the way Mack apparently had. He sighed just watching them, regretting that the only time he experienced moments like those these days occurred when he was around Bree. And then he was the one feeling a little frantic and undone.

  “I don’t think it’s hit either one of them yet,” Bree commented, joining him and glancing toward Susie and Mack.

  “What?” Jake asked, just to be sure her impression jibed with his.

  “That they’re crazy about each other,” she said.

  “They do give that impression, don’t they?” he said. “But things aren’t always what they seem.”

  Her gaze narrowed. “Are we still talking about Mack and Susie?”

  He gave her a bland look. “Of course.”

  Bree fell silent and for the life of him, Jake couldn’t think of anything to break the sudden tension. He’d never been any good at small talk except with Bree, and right now she had him tongue-tied, too. Finally he recalled Connie’s earlier observations.

  “The shop looks great,” he said, keeping his gaze straight ahead on anything and everything except the woman beside him.

  “Thanks.”

  “If tonight’s crowd is any indication, you’ll be a runaway success.”

  “Free food and champagne punch, even the kind without a kick, will always draw a big crowd,” she observed wryly. “We’ll see how it goes when it comes time to shell out the big bucks for my flower arrangements. Don’t tell anyone, but I’m winging it.”

  He did glance at her then and saw real worry in her eyes. “Come on, Bree, you have to know how good you are. I’ve been in shops that have been in business for years, and the florists don’t have half your talent. I told you that the other day when I first saw your sketches.”

  “If I do, then it’s thanks to Gram.”

  “She may have taught you a thing or two, but you have a real eye for what works. You put a few of your arrangements on display at the inn or any of the top restaurants in town, tuck your business cards beside them, and I guarantee customers who see them will be beating down your door.”

  Her expression brightened. “Do you really mean that?”

  “Have I ever lied to you?” he asked, unable to keep the edge out of his voice that suggested if there had been any lies between them, they’d been on her side.

  She winced at the direct hit. “Are we ever going to make peace, Jake?” she asked.

  The wistful note in her voice got to him. “Do you really care?”

  Heat flared in her eyes. “Of course I care! I was in love with you, Jake. You mattered to me.”

  “Just not enough,” he reminded her, then shook his head. “I’m not having this discussion.”

  “This certainly isn’t the best time or place for it,” she agreed with apparent regret.

  “No, I mean I’m not having it, period.” What good would it do to rehash how twisted up their lives had gotten? Words couldn’t change what had happened. The damage had been done.

  “Why?” she asked, her temper flaring in a rare show of O’Brien fire. “Because you’re too stubborn and bullheaded to admit that you share the blame for what happened, too? It wasn’t all my fault, Jake.”

  His temper, usually never more than a slow burn, stirred to match hers. “That’s not the way I remember it.”

  “Of course not, because it’s easier to play the victim, to heap it all on me, so you can walk around town with all that righteous indignation on your side,” she snapped, going on the attack in a way he couldn’t recall her ever doing before.

  She would have gone on, but Abby appeared at her side, alarm written on her face. “Everything okay? Should I get Trace over here?”

  “No need to call for reinforcements,” Jake said bitterly. “I’m on my way out. Congratulations and good luck, Bree.”

  She scowled right back at him. “Gee, that sounded sincere.”

  “If you want sincere, go back to that jerk in Chicago. He had sincere written all over his face,” he retorted, then snapped his fingers. “Oh, wait, he’s in the theater. Hard to tell with those kind what’s real and what’s acting.”

  The color drained from Bree’s face and even Abby looked shocked, but he couldn’t bring himself to utter the apology Bree deserved.

  Instead, he headed outside, though it was tough going with what seemed like half the town crammed into the tiny space. Each and every one of them seemed determined to catch his attention or, in the case of those who’d overheard his remarks, were intent on showing their displeasure at his rudeness.

  Behind him, he heard Abby ask her sister if she was all right. “And what on earth did Jake mean about Marty? Did the two of them meet?”

  Jake didn’t wait to hear Bree’s reply. Nor did he stop when Will called out to him. He barely slowed down when Mack fell into step beside him.

  “Don’t say it,” Jake muttered to his friend. “I don’t want to hear it.”

  “What?”

  “That I just made a complete ass of myself back there.”

  Mack’s lips twitched. “No need, when you have just demonstrated such amazing self-awareness. Will would be very proud.”

  “I’ll apologize one of these days,” Jake said, his temper finally cooling.

  “Sooner might be better than later,” Mack advised.

  “Oh?”

  “Bree’s not just your ex-girlfriend,” Mack reminded him. “After the success of tonight’s party, she’s more than likely about to be your biggest client.”

  Jake sighed glumly. “Yeah, more’s the pity.”

  Mack threw an arm over his shoulder. “Hey, it could have been worse.”

  “I’m not sure I see how. Half the town heard the way I spoke to her.”

  “But not everyone,” Mack said. “If Mick, Connor or even Trace had overheard that little tiff you two had back there, it might not have been pretty.”

  Jake winced. He knew exactly what Mack was implying. If either Bree’s father, her brother or her soon-to-be brother-in-law had witnessed the exchange, they’d hunt him down and beat him to a pulp for causing a scene on what was meant to be
Bree’s dazzling debut as a Chesapeake Shores business owner. The protective O’Brien men didn’t take it lightly when someone messed with one of their own. Jake knew he himself wouldn’t have stood for it if someone had deliberately hurt Connie in public. In fact, he’d called her ex-husband on exactly that more times than he could count.

  “I’d probably feel better if one of them did throw a punch my way,” he admitted. “I deserve it.”

  “I’d ask why you let things get out of hand, but I’ve already figured out that much,” Mack said.

  “Really? Because I don’t have a clue.”

  “You’re still in love with her,” Mack said slowly, as if explaining it to someone too young or too dense to grasp the concept.

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Jake retorted, dismissing the idea even though his sister had been expressing pretty much the same thing for days now.

  Mack leveled a disbelieving look at him. “I may not be a shrink like Will, but even I can recognize when love is in the air.”

  “Really? Then you know that’s what’s going on between you and Susie?”

  For once Mack didn’t leap in to deny anything. Instead, his expression turned thoughtful. “It’s crossed my mind,” he admitted finally. “There’s definitely something there, at least on my part, but she’s so damn sure that we’d be a disaster…” He shook his head. “She’s probably right. My track record with women is a little spotty.”

  Because Mack looked so miserable, Jake choked back his desire to laugh at the understatement. Mack’s track record was legendary, and not in a good way.

  “That doesn’t mean you can’t change for the right woman,” he told his friend.

  Mack’s expression brightened. “You think so?”

  “Hey, I’m far from an expert, but I hear it’s possible.”

  “I sure as hell hope you’re right,” Mack said fervently, “because this not-dating thing we’re doing is getting really old.”

  Sort of like Jake treating Bree as if she were nothing more than a client. Sometimes calling a relationship whatever it took to keep it in a comfort zone wasn’t enough. Sooner or later reality kicked in. That’s when things always got tricky. And he had a hunch his life was about to move in that direction.