The Bridal Bouquet

by Tara Randel

  “I’m using the convention as cover.”

  “So no one knows who you really are?” Christine asked in a tone bordering on awe.

  “Except the chief of police.”

  “Who are you looking for?”

  He caught Will’s gaze. “You tell me.”

  When Will sent a meaningful glance to Christine, Dylan knew something was up.

  “I’ve got all night.”

  Will puffed out his cheeks. “Christine, we should tell him.”

  Christine took a fortifying breath. “All right.” She stepped toward Dylan. The wind whipped her bouncy curls around her face. “We were looking for my brother.”

  “Why?”

  “He’s... He got caught up with some nasty guys. He might be dealing drugs. I came to Cypress Pointe, hoping I could talk some sense into him.”

  “You know for sure he’s here?”

  “Pretty sure. I haven’t seen him in person yet. That’s why Will and I were out here, hoping he might come to the marina and I’d be able to confront him.”

  “Why the marina?”

  “Before he left, he’d been hanging out with guys who owned boats.”

  Could this be a break in the case? “How do you know he’s dealing?”

  She let out a heavy breath. “He’s been using drugs on and off for a few years. About eight months ago he started hanging with a different crowd. He got all secretive and sneaky. Stole from people and businesses back home. When he disappeared, I knew he’d gotten involved in something bad, so I decided to look for him.”

  Dylan sliced his glance to Will. “Your part here?”

  “Christine confided in me and I wanted to help.”

  He’d seen the two of them interact after the break-in at the shop, noticing the long looks and ways they would touch each other, thinking no one else noticed. It explained Will’s part in tonight’s outing.

  “Do you know what your brother might be selling?”

  “No.”

  “Did he ever mention any names of the guys he was running around with, like Esposa?”

  She squinted, as if trying to remember. “Doesn’t sound familiar. When I questioned him, he always clammed up. Not so much because he was standing up for his friends, but more like he was afraid.”

  “If he’s working for one of the bigger distributors, he should be afraid.”

  Christine touched his arm. “He’s not a bad kid, Dylan. Just always doing things without thinking and getting himself in trouble.”

  He knew those kids. Had arrested plenty of them. He’d always hoped for the best, never knowing which kids got the message and which ones didn’t.

  “What’s his name?”

  Christine went mute.

  “Look, I know your name. I can easily find his.”

  She shuffled from foot to foot while she made her decision. Dylan could imagine the inner turmoil. If put in a similar situation and he had to give up one of his brothers, he didn’t know if he could do it.

  “Bryce. Bryce Wallace.”

  He’d have to check the report the police chief had given him to see if Bryce was one of the kids on the list.

  “I appreciate you wanting to help your brother, but if he’s working for the guy I’m after, he’s in big trouble. I don’t want to see you getting caught in the cross fire.”

  She nodded, and in the overhead light, he noticed the shine in her eyes.

  “He’s my little brother. What do I do?”

  “Let us take care of the situation.”

  Using the sleeve of her jacket, she wiped at her eyes. Will put his arm around her, comforting her, which was what Dylan should have done with Kady earlier, instead of getting peeved and walking away. After the past two days, he really needed to cut her some slack.

  Will spoke in a lowered voice to Christine, and at her nod, he leveled his gaze at Dylan.

  “The reason Christine said anything in the first place is because of the break-in at the shop. She thinks her brother might be involved.”

  “I’ve been wondering about that,” Dylan said. “What is it about the shop that’s of interest?”

  “Nothing that I know of,” Will answered. “I couldn’t make a connection, either. Until tonight.”

  Dylan went on red alert. “Why?”

  Christine pulled away from Will and stuck her hand in her jacket pocket, extracting something white and square. She handed it to him.

  “We found this on the pier,” Will explained.

  Dylan’s heart nearly lurched to his throat when he examined the object. A flat, white box, with The Lavish Lily printed on top. Worn and dirty, as if handled, folded and reused multiple times.

  “I’m guessing this is one of the corsage boxes your sister was looking for.”

  “Bingo.”

  Once his mind grasped the significance of finding the box, Dylan couldn’t shake off the impending danger. Someone had gone to all the trouble to steal the small boxes. He had an idea why.

  “You could easily transport a stash in this box. Who’s going to question it with the name of a florist stamped on the outside?”

  “But we don’t deal drugs, obviously. So how would anyone even know to take them?” Will asked.

  “That’s an excellent question. One I mean to answer.” He pocketed the box. “I’ll fill in the chief. In the meantime, don’t say a word to anyone.”

  “We should let Kady know about the boxes.”

  “No.”

  Will’s eyes narrowed. “Why not?”

  “Because your sister doesn’t know I’m undercover.”

  “You haven’t told her?” Christine squeaked.

  “I need her to believe my cover, just like everyone else at the convention and in town.”

  “I don’t like keeping this from her,” Will argued. “She deserves to know.”

  “But she won’t find out from you.”

  Will raised a challenging brow, stepping forward as if to change Dylan’s mind.

  “Do you want me to tell her about The Lavish Lily finances?”

  At the mention of his secret, Will’s bravado deflated. He angled away from Christine. “Would you stoop that low?”

  “To preserve my cover, yeah, in a New York minute.”

  “Fine,” he grumbled. “Just for the record, I don’t like keeping the truth from Kady.”

  “Neither do I. After the convention, I’ll explain it all.” He pulled out his wallet and extracted a business card. “Here’s my number. Program it into your phone. If you find anything, I mean anything that leads to your brother, call me. Don’t handle it on your own.”

  Christine took the card and slipped it in her pocket. “Thanks.”

  Dylan thumbed over his shoulder. “I’m gonna take off. You two should head home.”

  Without any parting words, Will took Christine’s arm and led her in the direction of town. Dylan turned on his heel and marched back to the SUV.

  Finally, a concrete lead. While one part of Dylan was stoked at the prospect, the other side, the guilt-prodding side, poked at him about keeping the truth from Kady. He reasoned it was for her own safety, but knew deep down he didn’t have a prayer when it came to her forgiveness if she learned the truth before he had a chance to come clean.

  * * *

  ON SATURDAY MORNING Kady obsessed over her bouquet design again. Her master plan hinged on the creation of blush-and-cream peonies, ivory garden roses with the tiniest blush of pink, which she’d special-ordered from the wholesaler, stephanotis and greens. She loved the double meaning, the peonies symbolizing a happy marriage, the roses embodying innocence and purity. The bouquet would have a classic look, unlike the more over-the-top submissions she’d created in years past to make a statem
ent. Obviously that hadn’t worked, so she’d gone back to the drawing board and opted for classic, all the way.

  These flowers, delicate and lovely, would enhance any style wedding gown. Simplicity would draw attention. And while the flower choice was important, Kady had spent a great deal of time coming up with the perfect stem wrap to finish the bouquet.

  She’d chosen ivory silk ribbon, which would tie in to the color scheme. Delicate seed pearls would be glued around the edges. And in the center, she’d affix a beautifully designed crystal brooch Aunt Cynthia had made for her. In truth, any piece of jewelry could be used as the focal point of the wrap. Kady’s idea was to encourage a bride to find a very personal keepsake and incorporate it in decorating the wrap. Now the bride not only carried a beautiful bouquet, but it also had an artful design showcasing sentimental memories.

  The central piece could be anything—a special gift from her fiancé, a family heirloom handed down from bride to bride, a keepsake from her parents. The inspirations were endless. In the case of her competition bouquet, Kady had chosen her aunt’s brooch for good luck.

  She hoped this would be a hit with the brides, but as trends went, one never knew what would be popular. She had to go with her gut on this one.

  As much as she’d love to linger over her design ideas, she had to get to the convention. She’d already ditched the early morning workshops, not ready to face Dylan after last night’s terse parting. But her friend Melissa was giving a hands-on workshop for newbie florists and Kady had promised to attend.

  “No more procrastinating.”

  After a quick shower, she dressed in a gauzy mint-green top, flowing multicolor skirt, suede boots and a wide leather belt to finish off the look. Her palms didn’t sting as much this morning, but she covered them with clean bandages just to be on the safe side. She stuffed a sweater in her tote and took off, running ten minutes late.

  Once at the hotel, she navigated the crowded lobby, not bumping into Dylan, thank goodness, and hurried to the room designated for Melissa’s class—How to Make the Perfect Boutonniere. She waved at Melissa, who pointed her to the far side of the crowded room.

  “I’ve got you a partner,” her friend mouthed.

  Kady made her way to the table, stopping short when she found Dylan sorting through a selection of red and white carnations.

  Handsome as always, today he’d dressed casually in a charcoal-colored, long-sleeved T-shirt, jeans and boots. He was probably angry with her, rightfully so. Yes, she could have handled last night better, but she’d been tired, achy and still didn’t understand her emotions when it came to him. Today she needed space, not a partner.

  “This can’t happen,” she said under her breath, taking a step backward. Melissa came up behind her.

  “Going somewhere?”

  “For water?”

  “Wrong answer.” Melissa nudged her toward the table. Dylan looked up, regarding her now with a put-upon glare. “I bumped into Jasmine and she suggested I wrangle Dylan into helping. He did such a good job assisting his mother, how could I pass up the opportunity?” Melissa explained.

  He didn’t look any happier than she did. He obviously hadn’t shaved this morning, evidenced by the dark bristle on his cheeks. Dark circles shadowed his eyes. Because of her? The edgy, dangerous attitude he carried with ease was stronger than ever. In her uncertain mood, Kady was afraid she wouldn’t be able to fight her ever-increasing attraction to him.

  “Why us?” she asked.

  “Do you see all the newbies in here? Someone has to look competent to encourage them.”

  As reasoning went, Kady thought it was a little lame, but when she scanned the room again, she realized Melissa needed her.

  “Fine. But you owe me.”

  Melissa took off and Kady reluctantly approached the table, meeting Dylan’s gaze. “Good morning.”

  “Is it?”

  Oh, yay. This was going to be fun, getting stuck with Mr. Grouchy.

  Melissa began the class, pointing out the different supplies needed to complete their task. Scissors and clippers, along with ribbon, tape, stem wire and pearl-headed pins. With his big hands, Kady knew Dylan wouldn’t find this exercise to his liking, which would most likely increase the crabby factor.

  “Is there a prom later that no one told me about?” Dylan grumbled.

  Kady bit back a smile. “No, but if you show your mom how well you did, maybe she’ll give you a gold star.”

  “Funny.”

  “Not as funny as watching you pass the wire through the bottom of that flower without destroying it.”

  He narrowed his eyes as if accepting a challenge. “You think I can’t do this?”

  “I think I’m going to enjoy watching you try.”

  As per Melissa’s instructions, the teams got to work. Kady rested her hip against the table, waiting for Dylan to take the lead.

  “You aren’t helping?”

  “This class is for newbies, and since you don’t work in your mother’s shop, I’m guessing you haven’t got a clue.”

  He braced his palms on the table, staring at the flowers.

  “Mental telepathy doesn’t work,” she quipped.

  His lips twitched. Okay, so maybe he wasn’t totally ticked at her.

  “How can you do this all day?” he asked as he picked up the delicate flower like it was a priceless artifact.

  “I love it.” She pointed to the wire. “Cut a piece about six inches.”

  He rolled out some wire and cut. “That’s what my mom says.”

  She picked up a carnation and drew it to her nose, inhaling the clove-like scent. Ran her finger over the ruffled edge. “Next cut the stem about one inch from the bud.”

  “I guess I can see why this profession is a good match for you both,” he continued. “You get to be creative and you love working with bright, colorful objects that make people happy.” He snipped the stem. “Believe it or not, you and my mom are a lot alike in that way.”

  Kady had already discovered that fact when she worked with Jasmine at the impromptu wedding the day before, but she wasn’t about to let Dylan in on her change of heart. Besides, Jasmine was technically her competition until after the conference.

  “Now cross the wire through the base of the bud and bend the wire down between your thumb and forefinger,” she instructed.

  “I always remember her saying if she made people cry with her creations, she’d done her job well.”

  Kady lifted a brow.

  “You know, because they loved the flowers. Although sometimes...”

  “Sometimes?”

  He glanced at her. “Never mind.”

  She shrugged, not revealing her never-ending curiosity. “Now, cut off about six or seven inches of tape. Then, starting at the top of the wire, wrap the tape around the stem.”

  Just as she thought, his big fingers were clumsy as he made a mess of the tape. He held up one hand, tape stuck to his fingers, carnation dangling in the air.

  “Have pity on me.”

  She moved next to him, trying not to get drawn into his body heat or how his eyes held that gleam she’d seen only when they were alone. She took the wounded flower and untangled the tape, her fingers brushing his. She froze. Even after the way they’d left things last night, an awareness blazed between them. No amount of apologizing, secretly grinning at his clumsiness or helping him was going to change the fact that he was a very strong, very capable male who had his sights set on her. And hers on him. The question was, how were they going to deal with it?

  Once his fingers were free, he cut a new length of tape. Learning from his mistake, he wrapped the stem more successfully this time.

  “Now, finish with the ribbon.”

  He took the precut piece and wound it over the tape.
r />   “At the top of the stem, make a loose loop and tie it off.”

  “With a butterfly, figure eight or running bowline knot?”

  “Just tie it off, smarty-pants.”

  He did, a full-fledged smile greeting her as he handed her the finished product. Once again, his face relaxed. His smile floored Kady. She wanted nothing more than to see that expression all the time, instead of the shadows in his eyes and the rare grins.

  Taking the flower, she picked up the pin and attached his handiwork to his shirt. She smoothed the fabric around it, her fingers tingling at the defined muscle beneath the soft cotton.

  “So, how did I do?” he asked, his voice husky.

  Controlling the shivers his rough tone sent over her skin, she studied his creation. “Not bad.”

  “Just one of my many talents.”

  “Like?”

  “Walks on the beach. Kisses in the moonlight.”

  She swallowed. “My favorites.”

  His unblinking gaze held hers until she finally looked away. Just in time for Melissa to come by and inspect Dylan’s work.

  “Hey, I’m impressed.” She frowned at Kady. “Did you help him?”

  “Nope. He’s got talent.”

  She glanced at Dylan and they grinned at each other.

  “I don’t even want to know,” Melissa said and moved on to the next table.

  “Listen, after all this flower stuff, I’m gonna have to make you run with me or do push-ups. Just to get a little more guy activity happening.”

  “Well, I like to run, so you might have some serious competition.”

  “Bring it on.”

  Kady sneaked a peek at Dylan as he cleaned up. Right now, a run on the beach or going anywhere with Dylan sounded great, except neither of them were dressed for exercise. Plus, she had something to say whether she liked it or not.

  “Instead of running, how about a stroll later on?” She paused. “And for the record, I should have apologized sooner. About last night. I was out of line.”

  When he didn’t meet her eyes, her stomach twisted. Should she not have mentioned it? Just let it go since things seemed okay between them? She couldn’t. That wasn’t how she behaved, so she’d have to live with his answer.