by Donna Alward
Baskets hung from the rafters, big and small, various colors and different flowers he couldn’t identify. Tables were lined with six-packs of blooms, little pots of individual plants, grasses, vegetables ready to go into a garden. He wondered if Laurel had finished planting her garden in her backyard, and what vegetables she was growing.
The end of the greenhouse area housed gallon pots of shrubs, some leafy green, some blossoming. Half a dozen lilacs were in a corner and the sweet perfume of them reminded him of home.
But as far as what he should get for the raffle? He was completely clueless.
“Shopping for something in particular?”
Her voice. Soft, yet with an underlying steel that suggested he wasn’t quite off the hook. Damn, he liked that about her. She challenged him. When they were toe to toe, he forgot to second-guess everything he said and did. Laurel was a top-notch distraction from his faults—except for when she was pointing them out. Right now, just the hint of ice in her tone reminded him of what a coward he was when it came to talking about emotions. He really should have called her.
When he turned around, she was watching him with an utterly professional expression on her face. He had visions of pressing her against the wall, her legs wrapped tightly around him, her dark hair falling against her cheek, and he momentarily forgot what he was going to say.
“Aiden? It’s busy. If there’s something you need help with…”
“Right. Sorry.” Yeah, sorry I was thinking about running my hands over your skin. Kissing that mouth that’s drawn up tight. “I’m here on behalf of the station. We have this scholarship fund. This weekend, during our open house, we want to raffle off some baskets or something to raise money for it.”
“Who benefits from the scholarship?” she asked, shifting her weight onto her hip.
“Generally it’s a high school student going into some type of post-secondary program who has a parent either in emergency services or the military.”
“Nice.” She offered a small smile then. “So what are you looking for? Planters or hanging baskets?”
He shrugged. “I was going to ask you what you thought. You’re the professional.” He tried a smile.
“How much are tickets?”
“Five dollars. Three for ten.”
She led him down an aisle to a group of arranged urns. “These are quite large. We’ve got…” She looked at him and smiled again. “Okay, so I’ll leave off the actual plant names, since you don’t really care about that. They’ve got spiky stuff in the middle, then blooming flowers, and some ivy and other stuff that cascades over the side. See?”
They were beautiful, he couldn’t argue that. But somehow they didn’t seem quite right.
Apparently Laurel could tell he wasn’t that keen because she moved further down the line. “What about a pair of hanging baskets, then? I did these up for Memorial Day and they might suit your particular needs well.”
She looked up. He followed the path of her gaze, and agreed with her assessment one hundred percent.
The baskets were large, in wire-and-moss pots that for whatever reason looked more natural—and expensive—than the ones in plastic. A profusion of blossoms filled each to overflowing in red, white, and blue.
“Wow,” he said.
“I know. I put in a special order. I’m really happy with them. And they’re not going to last long around here. I’ve sold twenty already this morning. It’s red begonias surrounded by white million bells and blue lobelia. Not a lot of deadheading required, mostly just for the begonias. I’ve got ones for shade, too, a bit smaller, but with red and white impatiens.” She pointed to the next row over. They were pretty, but not as stunning as the ones directly above them. “They’re better in shade. Impatiens don’t like the sun.”
“I like these ones,” he admitted. “And you’re right. The red, white, and blue is perfect.”
“I’ll get them down for you.”
He watched as she grabbed a hook and deftly removed the baskets from the wire and placed them on the floor. “That’s pretty slick.”
“When you’ve done it a zillion times, you get fast at it.”
Again with the businesslike smile. It was driving him slightly crazy. They stepped aside as a couple of customers went by, and then Aiden picked up both baskets. They were heavier than he expected, and his biceps flexed. To his gratification, Laurel seemed to notice. Her gaze strayed to his arms and her lips parted just a little bit. Good. Maybe she wasn’t quite as immune to him as she let on.
“Do you want help taking them to your truck?”
“I think I can manage. I’ll need to get my wallet out at the cash register though. Unless you want to reach into my pocket to get it?” He waggled his eyebrows.
She snorted. “Nice try. Besides, they’re on me.”
“Sorry?”
“The baskets. There’s no charge.”
He hadn’t been expecting that. “Laurel, we budgeted for this. Don’t worry.”
“I’m not worried. Consider it my donation to the fund, since I won’t be buying tickets. Winning hanging baskets would be kind of pointless for me.”
“It’s too much.” He’d seen the price tags on the baskets. They weren’t cheap. “At least let me buy them at cost.”
“Seriously, I’ll write them off.” She reached over and took one from his hand. “It’s a couple of baskets, Aiden. Not my firstborn.”
They reached his truck and he opened the tailgate. “Well, thanks,” he said, putting his basket inside and then taking the other one too. He shut the tailgate with a solid thump. “On behalf of the police department, that is.”
“You’re most welcome. The police department, that is.” She mimicked him and he couldn’t stop the crooked smile from touching his lips. Maybe he was forgiven. At least a bit.
She looked over her shoulder, as if anxious to return. There were two people working besides her, at least that Aiden could see. One was dealing with the lineup at the cash register, and the other was bustling about, helping customers. “I heard you turned down the town about the photo,” he finally said.
“I did. I just … well, it’s a busy time of year.”
“Is that all? I wondered if it was because it was me. I know I didn’t call after we…” He paused. Looked at her. “After we got pizza.”
“No, you didn’t. Which was fine. I think what happened was a bit unexpected for both of us.”
Damn, she made it sound so bland. Like she hadn’t been as turned on as he had. “I wasn’t sure what to say. I thought you were probably pissed at me.”
“Did I look mad?” she asked.
“I don’t know. I left before you had a chance.” He laughed a little, but the truth was she hadn’t looked mad at all. She’d looked … glorious. Rumpled and dazed and two steps from going to bed with him.
“I’m not very good at talking about feelings. You might have gathered that from my past actions.”
“I just assumed you figured it was a mistake.”
He hesitated, then decided he should at least try to say what had been on his mind ever since leaving her house. “I was pretty sure that if I opened my mouth, I’d ruin what had been a perfect moment. I have a habit of doing that.”
God, had he just said the words “perfect moment”? Gah, wasn’t he getting sappy?
Apparently, though, it had been the right thing to say because Laurel’s rather severe expression mellowed. “I wasn’t mad at you for kissing me,” she said quietly. “Surprised, but not mad. Unless, of course, you had a pool going on at the station or something.”
“Of course not!” he bristled at the insinuation, but then looked at her face. Her eyes were sparkling at him and her lips curved up at the corners, just a little bit.
“Touché,” he muttered.
“I had other reasons for saying no to the photo, though the thought did cross my mind that it might be awkward as well.”
“What kind of reasons?” He was curious now. “I mean,
I’m not crazy about dressing up in a tux, but when Oaklee explained the idea of the rebrand to me, it made sense.”
“I’ve got to get back, Aiden. It’s crazy busy today, in case you haven’t noticed.”
“And you’re avoiding the question.”
“Maybe just a little,” she admitted.
“So explain it to me later. Go to dinner with me.”
Where the hell had that come from? He hadn’t planned on asking her out—he’d just hoped she wouldn’t rip his head off for being a jerk again. Now he wanted to make it up to her. This Dan guy had made her feel bad enough. It was time for Aiden to man up and simply ask for what he wanted. And what he wanted was to spend more time with her.
“Aiden. If we go to dinner, someone will see us. And if people see us, they’ll start talking and I am so not up to that. I don’t want the gossip and I don’t want the questions. And not because it’s you, okay? I just don’t.”
She looked rather desperate at the idea.
“Have people been gossiping?”
She nodded, but looked away. “About me, about Dan, about seeing you helping me paint that night. Darling does have a tendency to be a bit claustrophobic.”
He could see her point. All that well-intentioned neighborliness was almost an armchair sport. “Well, what about the Memorial Day picnic at my folks’ place? We grill some steaks, have a few beers, take our lives in our hands with old-fashioned lawn darts and tackle Frisbee. No public appearances required.”
“Dinner out versus a family get-together? Honestly, I’m not sure which is scarier.”
“Don’t be scared,” he insisted. “It’s really very low key. Plus you know everyone already. What time do you close on Monday?”
She hesitated, and he wondered if she was considering not telling the truth. Instead she admitted, “I’m actually closed all day. It’s a holiday and I haven’t had a day off in close to three months.”
“Perfect. I’ll come by your house to get you around three.” When he sensed she was going to backtrack, he pushed on. “Don’t even think of saying no. I’m going to show up at your door regardless. Look at it this way. On your day off you don’t have to cook. You don’t have to do anything. Just come and have a good time and let go of some of that weight on your shoulders.”
“So it isn’t a date?”
He hesitated. The truth was, he kept telling himself he didn’t want anything romantic with Laurel but then he continually found himself seeking her out and prolonging their time together. He liked her. And this chemistry thing … it knocked him for a loop but he couldn’t very well ignore it, could he? He did want something. Maybe he always had.
“If you don’t want it to be a date, it’s not a date,” he assured her, and wondered if he should cross his fingers behind his back.
“Okay, then,” she agreed. “Because I don’t think you’re going to let me alone if I refuse.”
“You know me so well.”
They were smiling at each other when Jordan yelled across the lot. “Hey, Laurel, can you give me a hand for a sec?”
“I’ve gotta go,” she said, and he was gratified that she actually looked a little disappointed.
“Thanks for the baskets.”
She turned and got about five steps away before spinning back to face him. “Does this mean we’re becoming friends, do you think?”
“There’s a good chance,” he replied.
She turned and walked away, into the greenhouse and the problem that awaited her.
Aiden hopped back into his truck and started the engine. There was a very good chance that they were friends. And if he had his way, more than friends. But slowly. There was no need to rush anything. They had all the time in the world. Neither of them was going anywhere.
He was whistling as he stopped at the main road and waited for a few cars to pass before pulling into traffic. Once he got the baskets back to the station, he’d have to call his mom and let her know he was bringing a friend to the party. Maybe he’d be on the “good child” list for once.
* * *
Laurel saw right away that Memorial Day at the Gallaghers’ place was a big deal.
Swoops of red, white, and blue garland were draped over the deck railings, and paper flags stuck out of flowerpots, including the impatiens ones from the shop. Cars were already in the yard and as Laurel and Aiden drove in, two little boys came racing around the corner of the house with a man in hot pursuit.
Rory. She remembered because he was the only one in the family with dark hair instead of the coppery tones of the rest of the kids.
“You okay?” Aiden looked over at her.
“Sure, why not?” She smiled, but inside her stomach was churning. Friends, he’d said. And he’d done nothing to make it seem more than that. But it did. Driving into his family home for a picnic felt very much like a date.
It hadn’t helped that she’d gone to the parade today, she mused, as Aiden parked the truck and sent her a reassuring smile. He’d been there in his uniform, his shoes spit-shined and his eyes shadowed by his cap as he’d walked the route next to his fellow officers. Why was she such a sucker for a man in uniform, anyway?
Except maybe it wasn’t just any uniform. Or any man. Because she’d recognized his brother Ethan, too, as he’d marched as part of the fire department. There hadn’t been any of that toe-curling, heart-racing reaction stuff then.
Damn.
She hopped out of the truck and shouldered her handbag. Well, she was here now, and she might as well make the best of it.
Aiden led the way straight to the backyard, and Laurel followed. The Gallaghers had a great spot: a cozy-looking colonial on a couple of acres, with rolling lawns and mature trees. She knew John Gallagher had built it himself; he was a local contractor and when she’d been in high school, he’d worked with a developer on the new subdivision on the north side of town. He’d made the family home big enough to house all of his kids—and there were six—and she was a bit in awe of the sprawling structure.
She was even more surprised when she turned the corner of the house and saw the backyard.
Interlocking blocks led from the deck to a fenced-in pool area. The pool had a solar cover on it now, but Laurel could just imagine the commotion in the summer when Ethan’s little boys got splashing around and rushing down the slide. Next to the pool were two tables with umbrellas and chairs, perfect for enjoying a summer day. To take away the utilitarian look of the chain-link fence, Aiden’s mom had planted hostas around the bottom.
The green grass was lush and full, and there was a volleyball net set up off to one side where the yard was perfectly level. Ethan and John were playing bocce ball in a rather large, open space, and Rory came zooming back, chasing Ethan’s boys again.
So far Laurel was the only woman in attendance. She wasn’t sure if that was a good or a bad thing. She felt rather conspicuous and out of place, but at the same time, the women in the family would be more likely to presume and speculate and ask potentially uncomfortable questions.
“Hey, bro,” Rory called, lifting his hand as he ran by. “It’s monkey tag. Want to give me a break and chase these two around for a while?”
“Maybe later,” Aiden answered, laughing.
“Hey, Laurel,” Rory called back, and he was off again. Moments later there was a squeal, and then the silliest impression of a monkey she’d ever heard.
“You want something to drink? There’ll be sodas and lemonade and coolers inside. If Hannah’s here, there’s a good chance there’ll be margaritas.”
“Um … you’re not going to have anything?”
“I brought the truck.”
“Right.” And she remembered his zero tolerance policy. “If you wanted to, I could drive back to town. If you don’t mind me driving your truck.”
“It’s up to you. You’re the guest today. If you want to have a few wobbly pops, you should.”
She laughed a little. Honestly, she was nervous enough that she wasn’
t sure adding alcohol to the mix was smart. She’d be apt to say something stupid or embarrassing. Besides, Aiden was here with his brothers. She imagined he’d like to kick back with a few beers.
“I’ll drive,” she decided. “Lemonade works for me.”
A swooshing noise came from above and they both looked up. The sliding doors to the above patio had just opened and Aiden’s mother came out onto the deck. She grinned down at them. “Were you going to come in and say hello?”
“Just getting to it,” Aiden replied. He threw a smile at Laurel, as if to say, here we go, and led the way to the stairs.
Once inside, Laurel suddenly realized why she hadn’t seen any of the Gallagher women in the yard. They were all in the huge kitchen, laughing and bustling their way around each other, dirtying dishes, dragging out ingredients, stirring things together. It was chaos, and Laurel was both shocked and amused. She tried to imagine this much bedlam in her mom’s kitchen and simply couldn’t. Everything at the Stones’ place was always neat and orderly and the motto was “tidy as you go.”
“Welcome to the circus, Laurel.” That came from Hannah, who grinned and then pressed a button on the food processor, cutting out all hopes of a reply. Moira was shaking something onto a platter of burgers, and the two youngest daughters were cutting up vegetables and putting them on a platter.
“What would you like to drink?” Hannah turned from the processor and grinned. “I can make margaritas. Or there are some berry coolers in the fridge that the twins brought.” From the sound of it, Hannah wasn’t enamored of the coolers. “There’s beer, and wine, and sodas, and lemonade.”
“More selection than I get at Suds and Spuds.” Laurel grinned. The town watering hole specialized in beer and over two dozen varieties of fries and chips. It also focused its resources on the food and not the ambiance.
Aiden chuckled. “Hey, at least the beer’s cold and their chili fries are to die for.” He looked at Hannah. “I’ll have a Coke.”
“Coming up. Laurel?”
“Maybe lemonade? It sounds delicious.”
