Romancing the Flower Shop Girl: A Sweet Romantic Comedy

by Angie Pepper

  Romancing the Flower Shop Girl

  A Sweet Romantic Comedy Novel

  Angie Pepper

  WWW.ANGELAPEPPER.COM

  Romancing the Flower Shop Girl - A Sweet Romantic Comedy by Angie Pepper

  Description: Tina Gardenia lives in a tiny house and works in a tiny flower shop. She doesn't have room for a big, strong man like Luca Lowell.

  Luca has taken over the garage down the street, and now he's trying to expand Tina's tiny world. He can't exactly buy flowers for a florist, so he has to get creative with his romantic gestures. Very creative.

  Luca doesn't know that Tina is holding on to something from the past. It might be a problem for the couple. She won't let him into her tiny life if she has no space.

  There are plenty of LOLs and bittersweet moments to savour on Tina and Luca's bumpy journey toward love.

  From USA Today Bestselling author Angela Pepper, writing under her romance name, Angie Pepper.

  Genre: Sweet Romantic Comedy

  NOTE: This is a new, full-length novel adapted from a novella-length story originally published in 2014 as Blue Roses under the author's pen name Mimi Strong. This is not just a second edition, but a whole new work or reboot incorporating new material with elements from the author's previous work.

  Chapter 1

  Tina Gardenia was on the verge of crying. A bundle of blue roses sat before her on the prep counter. They were so tacky, so unnatural. Natural roses came in so many wonderful colors, but people preferred the white ones tinted with blue dye. People didn’t always have the best taste. Florists were supposed to help, but the customer was always right. Even if they wanted dyed blue roses.

  She picked up one rose, cupping the blossom in her palm as she stripped the thorns off with a knife.

  Her eyes felt hot and itchy. They hadn’t recovered from the previous night’s sad movie, which should have come with an Ugly Cry warning. It served her right for picking one with a dog on the picture. She should have known the dog would die. Now her tear ducts were probably permanently damaged. She blinked hard, but it didn’t help.

  The door chime let out a chirp. Someone walked into Gardenia Flowers. By the sound of his steps, it was a man, and not a small one.

  Tina’s gaze went first to the boots. They were motorcycle boots. And they were big.

  Next, her gaze climbed up his jeans. And what a climb it was, over long legs clad in denim, and noticeably muscled thighs. Her mouth went dry, and she nearly looked away out of modesty but didn’t. She was having a good day, and on good days she didn’t feel like a shrinking violet at all.

  The man wore a black shirt with a bike logo, stretched tight across his chest muscles. He was so big, and the flower shop was so tiny, that he had to turn his body sideways to squeeze past the ferns. His presence in the cramped shop reminded Tina of that old expression: Bull in a china shop.

  Tina watched him with detached amusement, the way she watched comedy movies. The man was in his early thirties, which would have made him a potential dating prospect, if it weren’t for those big boots and that tall, manly frame. The guy fighting his way through the fern jungle wasn’t her type at all. She usually went for skinny video game or movie geeks. Guys who were more boys than men. The sort of guys who didn’t have their lives figured out, either, and therefore didn’t bug her to “get out of her comfort zone.” Tina liked her comfort zone. It was called that for a reason.

  The man had breached the fern jungle and was now looking over the other tropical houseplants as he made his way toward the counter.

  Tina’s heart started to pound. This was no comedy movie. This was real life, and it was happening in real time.

  The closer he got, the more easily she could see the definition in his arms, his shoulders, even his neck. Whenever she saw a bunch of muscles, she got stupid and giggly on the inside. One time, she’d tried to buy some men’s underwear as a Christmas present for someone, but she’d left the store empty-handed because the hunky beefcakes on the packaging made her feel funny. She wasn’t nearly as squeamish as her best friend, but Tina had her moments.

  This guy was fully clothed, thankfully. He had about a week’s worth of beard. It was light brown, like his wavy hair. His face had strong, balanced proportions. He looked like the kind of guy who didn’t need a bottle opener. He’d use those big fists of his, or his teeth.

  Despite the bike-logo T-shirt, the large man in Tina’s tiny flower shop wasn’t intimidating in a biker gang sort of way. He was artfully scruffy, like a famous athlete on his day off. Was he an athlete? There were a few famous hockey players that lived in the neighborhood. This guy would be a menace to the other team, especially raised up even taller on a pair of skates.

  Suddenly, things clicked into place for Tina. The biker boots, the black T-shirt, and the rugged good looks. She’d heard about this guy. He’d been the talk of the neighborhood for weeks. Everyone was agitated about him. That morning at Delilah’s, Maggie had barely been able to pour Tina her usual tea, she’d been so upset about him.

  The man sniffing a bouquet of scentless irises had to be him.

  Luca Lowell.

  He finally reached the flower shop’s counter.

  Rather than ask him if he needed help, Tina held her breath. She’d been about to say something friendly, but then he’d smiled and looked her right in the eyes. His attention on her had felt like headlights washing over a frozen deer.

  The man had the most beautiful blue eyes she’d ever seen. Or possibly the most beautiful blue eyes in existence, period. Everyone in the neighborhood had been talking about him, but nobody had mentioned his eyes. How could a person leave out a detail like that?

  The man cleared his throat and said, “I see I’ve caught you at a bad time.” His voice was deep, yet surprisingly gentle, given his scruffy appearance.

  His relaxed approach had allowed her to catch her breath, so she answered quickly, “This isn’t a bad time.” She picked up another rose and whipped the knife through the thorns. “I’m just stripping.”

  The sunlight coming in the front window caught in the corners of his breathtaking eyes and sparkled. “You’re not stripping,” he said matter-of-factly.

  “Honestly, I am,” she said.

  He stood on his toes and looked over the counter, peering all the way down to her feet.

  She felt the heat of his gaze as he took a visual tour. First at her tennis shoes, then up her bare legs to her jean shorts, which weren’t even shorts, but an old pair of jeans that she’d hacked off below the knees. He raised his eyebrows and continued his sightseeing journey, up over her greenery-stained, three-sizes-too-large sweatshirt. The young florist’s spectacular ensemble was topped off by a fashion-throwback pink scrunchie that held her curly brown hair high on her head. The scrunchie was actually a big improvement over the blue elastics she usually used—the kind of utilitarian band that came around the base of sturdy greenery. But he couldn’t have known that. All he must have seen, Tina feared, was a sloppy girl with dark circles under her eyes from crying all week like a loser.

  He finished the visual tour, rocked back on his heels, and said, “If you think this is stripping, you’re doing it all wrong.”

  “Oh, but I am stripping,” she said, slowing down to a standstill so she didn’t stab herself with the knife by accident. “Stripping thorns.”

  “Ah,” he said, tipping his head back in a friendly way. “The less-popular but still completely valid form of stripping. My mistake.”

  He leaned over the counter, resting his elbow the way someone did if they were planning to stick around a while. He reach
ed out with one big paw of a hand.

  “I’m Luca Lowell,” he said. “I bought that dirty old run-down garage down the street.”

  She knew that. Everyone on the block knew that. They’d been talking about Luca Lowell ever since he’d taken over the local garage, which had been dirty, and had been run-down, but had also been well-loved by many, including Tina.

  She set down the blue rose and the knife and shook his hand. Her small palm disappeared in his warm embrace. She hoped he didn’t notice how sweaty hers was. He had calluses. So did she. And yet their hands fit together perfectly.

  “I’m Tina Gardenia, like the sign on the door,” she said. “And I’ve heard all about you, Luca Lowell. Folks around here are not very happy with you.”

  “They’re not?” He raised an eyebrow. “What folks?”

  “Everyone. The whole neighborhood has been getting their cars serviced at Ralph’s for generations. Now what are they going to do?”

  “They’ll have to trade their cars in and get something better. Bikes.”

  She laughed then stopped abruptly. “You’re serious!”

  “I am. The garage isn’t being shut down permanently. It’s just changing focus. Once we reopen, we’ll specialize in servicing all kinds of bikes. This is the best location in the whole city for a business like mine. All the local hotshot athletes have been looking for a place they can trust.” His blue eyes broke away from hers to take in more of the flower shop. It was small, and there wasn’t much to take in. “And scooters, too,” he said. “Do you have a scooter, Tina? You look like the scooter type.”

  She liked the sound of her name on his lips.

  “A scooter? I’ll think about it.”

  It was the truth. She’d never considered owning a scooter, but Luca Lowell made it sound fun. Maybe Tina Gardenia was a scooter kind of girl. In high school, she’d been on the wrestling team. She wasn’t afraid to get physical, and her core was strong from lifting heavy buckets of water.

  “Tina, I have a question for you.” He rested his big knuckles on the counter between them and gave her an earnest look. “What do you know about women?”

  “I know a few things about women. Plus I actually am one, despite current appearances.”

  “Do you mean the big sweatshirt? I saw right through your disguise.”

  “What do you need to know about women?”

  “I need to know how to not make them mad at me. Or, since that’s not too likely, how to get them to forgive me when I do inevitably make them mad.”

  Tina’s heart sank. Luca Lowell was not her type at all, and yet knowing he already had a girlfriend was ruining her previously good day.

  “So that’s why you’re here,” she said, nodding. “You need flowers to apologize with.”

  “Does that actually work?”

  “We wouldn’t still be in business if it didn’t.”

  He scoffed. “I can’t believe women are so easy.”

  She scoffed back. “If they really were that easy, men like you wouldn’t come to places like this.”

  He held up both hands. “I didn’t mean to ruffle your feathers.”

  “I don’t ruffle that easy.” She waved a hand. “So, about this woman who’s mad at you. Exactly what did you do?”

  He smirked. “Nothing I won’t do again.”

  Classic bad boy. And this was exactly why Tina didn’t date guys like Luca.

  She asked, “Have you considered… not doing that thing anymore?”

  “Where’s the fun in that? Maybe it’s one of my favorite things.” He grinned, dazzling her with great-looking teeth.

  “So, you need an apology arrangement?”

  “That depends. Do you offer a money-back guarantee?”

  “No, but if she kills you, we’ll do your funeral for half price.” She chuckled at her own joke. “Florist humor.”

  He kept smiling but didn’t laugh.

  He asked, “Can I get something by closing tonight?”

  “Absolutely. Do you have a budget? Is there a type of flower that holds a special meaning for the two of you?”

  “Surprise me.” He dropped some cash on the counter. “Is this enough?”

  Her eyes widened at the sight of the cash. The bike garage business must have been profitable. She also happened to notice he didn’t wear a wedding band. That meant the woman who was mad at him probably wasn’t a wife. That shouldn’t have cheered her up, since he wasn’t her type, but it did.

  “That’s more than enough,” she said, then she went on to crack another joke she’d made countless times over the years working there. “The flowers should work, but if she doesn’t take you back, you can always marry me. I’ll throw in my sister, too.”

  He took a step back. “What?”

  She pointed her thumb behind her, toward the door to the office. “That joke makes more sense if my sister’s actually here.”

  “I’m sure it does,” he said.

  The door chimed with another customer coming in.

  Luca gave the young florist in the sloppy clothes a long, appraising look, tinged with curiosity. Then he turned and walked back out again in those big motorcycle boots.

  She stared at the door for several minutes. The scent of his masculine cologne lingered in the air. Or maybe it was just the flowers all around, plus her imagination. Either way, it was pleasant.

  Tina’s customer service reflexes finally kicked in, and she offered the new customer help. The customer replied that she was just looking for now.

  Tina picked up Luca’s money and smelled it. She expected the stack of bills to smell like Luca, but it just smelled like the inside of a pocket. A freshly laundered pocket, at least. Tina couldn’t say the same for her tattered cut-off shorts.

  The customer saw Tina sniffing the money, gave her a funny look, and then left without buying anything.

  Tina Gardenia sighed and stared at the front door.

  Luca Lowell was every bit as handsome as folks in the neighborhood had been telling her, even if they had left out the detail about his dazzling blue eyes. Time was marching on, and things were changing, despite everyone’s wishes to keep everything the same. Luca Lowell would be working right down the street from her, day in and day out, for years. Maybe even forever. Businesses that made it past five years in the neighborhood tended to sprout deep roots and stick around forever.

  The first thing Tina needed to do after making Luca’s flower arrangement was… look into purchasing a scooter.

  Obviously.

  Chapter 2

  It took Tina Gardenia of Gardenia Flowers a whopping three hours to create Luca Lowell’s apology bouquet.

  She’d started off by making it ugly. Extremely ugly. Pink carnations. Baby’s breath. All the wilted stuff waiting to be composted. Tina thought that if an ugly bouquet could push this already-angry woman over the top, the woman would have to break up with Luca.

  And then what?

  Luca and Tina would just be friends at first, on account of his recent breakup. Their friendship would become intimate, but not physical. Not at first. Then, one day, he’d walk into the flower shop, lock the front door, and take her in his arms. He’d knock all the paperwork off the desk in the office and demand to have her immediately. Like in the movies.

  She shivered at the thought of Luca Lowell touching her with those big hands of his. He was a real man. Tina’s boyfriends had been just that. Boys. Whenever they’d tried to take charge and dominate, it always made her laugh. How could you take a guy seriously when he got up early on a Saturday morning to play video games?

  One time, she’d been on a blind date with a guy who’d pulled out his phone, mid-conversation, to bid on something on Ebay. Was it a sensible item going for a reasonable price? No. It was an auction for virtual spaceship weapons. He’d won the auction but lost the chance at a second date. Tina liked geeks, but they couldn’t be too geeky. Paying real money for imaginary stuff was too far.

  That date had been over a y
ear ago. Maybe she shouldn’t have been so picky, because she hadn’t had a date since. In hindsight, Mr. Spaceship Weapons didn’t seem so bad when she was home alone on a Saturday night.

  Tina finished the bouquet. She’d discarded the ugly parts—which had been ninety percent of it—and remade the whole thing with their best flowers. The arrangement was dripping with orchids, but in a tasteful way. Sort of. The secret to a gorgeous arrangement was to go a little too far, which Tina had.

  She tidied up her workstation and admired her work. It turned out her pride as a florist was stronger than her desire to sabotage Luca’s relationship. The arrangement was stunning.

  Luca came back in at closing.

  He had flecks of paint all over him, most likely from his renovations at the garage. Everything from the tip of his strong nose to the tips of his wide fingers was spotted in paint. He reminded her of a cupcake covered in sprinkles. A very handsome cupcake.

  “All done,” she said with a professional air. “If this isn’t to your liking, I’d be happy to make some substitutions.” She didn’t actually want to take it apart, but if he stood there and chatted with her while she did it, that wouldn’t have been so bad.

  “Those flowers are almost as pretty as you,” he said.

  She pretended to gag. “Gee, thanks, mister. I’ve never heard that one before.” She’d only heard it at least once a day, her whole working life.

  “How’s your handwriting?”

  “It’s legible,” she said. “You say the words, and I’ll write ‘em.” She grabbed a pen and a note card.

  “Just put down the usual.”

  “The usual? You want me to write ‘Sorry I’m such a jerk’ on here?”

  He chuckled. “If that’s the usual, then I guess it’ll do.”

  “It’s your funeral,” she said, then wrote the note: Sorry I’m such a jerk.

  Immediately, she changed her mind and ripped up the card. The Florist Code must have kicked in. Florists were like doctors in that they pledged, unofficially, anyway, to first do no harm.