Romancing the Flower Shop Girl: A Sweet Romantic Comedy

by Angie Pepper

  Butterflies fluttered in Tina’s stomach. So much for temporarily taking her mind off Luca Lowell.

  “I may know who you’re talking about,” Tina said coolly.

  Peaches saw right through her older cousin’s bluff. “You!” She pointed her finger at Tina. “I knew the rumors were true. You two are an item!”

  “Not exactly.”

  “Well, you’d better grab him before someone else does. Or before Megan scares him away from the entire family.”

  “I’ll take that under advisement,” Tina said.

  Some customers entered the bookstore, so Tina said goodbye and turned to leave.

  Peaches yelled out, “You go get him, girl. And make me a bridesmaid. I’ve always wanted to be a bridesmaid. I promise I won’t even complain about the dress!”

  Tina waved for her cousin to calm down, then left the bookstore. She was hit with a strong aroma of vanilla and sugar. Donut Joe’s was right next door.

  Tina popped in, got a donut, and chatted casually with Rhonda until Rhonda, like Peaches, also started talking about the attractive new owner of Ralph’s Garage.

  Rhonda cackled and said, in her gravelly voice, “I wouldn’t kick a man like that out of bed for eating crackers, if you know what I mean. I wouldn’t even care if he looked at other, younger women, as long as he looked at me sometimes. Those eyes of his...”

  Tina asked, “Are you dating anyone, Rhonda?”

  “Don’t you worry about me,” Rhonda said with a hand wave. “I’ve got my cat, and that’s all I need to be happy.”

  “Cats are great,” Tina said. She thanked Rhonda for the chat and continued on her way.

  After a few stops into other stores, and a few chats with other local business owners and workers, Tina finally reached Ralph’s Garage.

  There was still paper all over the windows, so she couldn’t see in. She tried the door. It was unlocked. She went in.

  Inside, the old reception area had been changed so much, it was unrecognizable. A couple of guys were working on assembling a counter, and a few more were painting.

  Luca looked up from some blueprints, broke out in a grin, then frowned and tried to shoo her out. “Nothing’s finished,” he said. “I don’t want you to see it before it’s ready.”

  “Luca, I have enough visual imagination to see things that aren’t completely done yet,” she said.

  “Fine,” he said with a sigh. “Sorry about the mess. Nothing’s finished, but it is coming together.”

  Tina took a few more steps in and looked around the rejuvenated space in awe. The old drop ceiling with water-stained acoustic tiles had been removed, and the exposed wood beams had been sandblasted clean. Everything new was a different shade of gray, with chrome accents and a few splashes of color. A painter was putting a glossy coat of red on the wooden window frames.

  “Red window frames,” Tina said. “Just like my house.”

  “They were going to be gray, like the columns, but then a visit to a certain florist’s private residence made me change my mind.”

  “Luca, this isn’t a garage anymore.”

  He nodded toward the service bays, which were newly visible from the reception, now that an entire wall had been removed and replaced with glass.

  “Not yet, I know,” Luca said. “We’re still waiting on some equipment.”

  “Forget the equipment. I’m getting my couch and moving in here. This isn’t a garage. It’s my dream home.”

  “But you already have a garage that you live in. It suits you. It’s cute.”

  She looked around the giant space again, awestruck. “I’m not sure cute is going to suit me much longer. I may be outgrowing a few things.”

  They were interrupted by the men working on the counter needing to ask Luca about something.

  “Stick around awhile,” Luca said to her. “I’ll have someone run out and get your favorite tea. We’ve got a kettle and everything.” He waved at a folding table with a pile of takeout food containers, disposable cups, and one grimy plug-in kettle.

  “Another time,” Tina said. “I’ll let you focus on your work.”

  “Before you go, save me from bugging my bookkeeper to help me text you. How’s Friday night? Would Muffins mind if you came to my house for dinner? Fair’s fair, and you made me dinner already.”

  “Sure. And then, on Saturday, I won’t phone you or text you. Fair’s fair.”

  The men who’d been working on the counter were still standing there, looking at the ceiling and pretending not to be listening.

  Luca grinned. “Maybe on Saturday, that won’t be a problem because you’ll still be at my house.”

  Tina shook her head and left.

  Chapter 19

  Tina Gardenia drove across town and pulled her car onto Luca’s street at quarter to seven.

  She had permanently retired her ugly oversized sweatshirts and was wearing a relatively new stretchy top with jeans. The charm bracelet Luca gave her was sparkling on her left wrist with its cute charms.

  Summer had arrived. Bright sunshine still glinted off car trim, mirrors, and windows along the street.

  This was a family-oriented neighborhood. Half the front lawns were strewn with giant plastic toys. The scent of barbecue hung in the air.

  Luca’s house was neither the newest nor the oldest on the block. It had been built in an architectural style that was popular in the city during the seventies, with minimal decoration—just a box with a low-pitched roof.

  Next door to Luca’s, a man in a hat was watering some shrubs in the front yard. He watched Tina as she parked her car and then walked up to Luca’s front door.

  The man called out, “You must be Tina.” He dropped the garden hose and reached across the shrubs to shake her hand. “I’m Chris. I’m the local heirloom tomato supplier. If you need salsa, just let me know.”

  Luca opened his door. “Chris! Let her get in the door before you start pushing your condiments, man.”

  Chris laughed then looked Tina evenly in the eyes. “Do you like chutney?”

  She replied, “Is that the stuff with raisins?” She wrinkled her nose.

  “Never mind,” Chris said. “My chutney is not for you. But you do like salsa, right? Everyone loves salsa.”

  “I probably eat salsa twice a week,” Tina said.

  Luca walked over and draped his arm across her shoulders. It was a casual gesture, but the touch of his arm, combined with the sunshine and the friendly neighbor, was almost too perfect.

  Luca kissed Tina on the side of her forehead, and then the three of them chatted for a while about the plans Chris had for a new greenhouse.

  A woman popped her head out of the neighbor’s house and said, “Chris, let those two have their dinner already! Would you stop bothering them about the tomatoes? Some people have other interests.”

  Chris said to Tina, “I’ll save some of my next batch of salsa for you. You can get it from Luca, if he doesn’t eat it all first.”

  Tina thanked him, then Chris picked up the garden hose again and wished them a good dinner.

  Luca led Tina into his house then shut the door behind them.

  Tina hadn’t even gotten a peek around inside before he started kissing her, backing her up against the door.

  She giggled and ducked under his arm to escape. Her first peek was at what should have been a living room, but looked like a motorbike showroom.

  “Luca, why do you have motorbikes parked in your house where a living room should be?”

  He replied, “I’d put them in the guest bedroom, but it’s tricky getting them up and down the stairs.”

  “But shouldn’t they be in a garage? Or outside?”

  “This is my house,” he said. “At your house, you keep pants in your oven drawer. At my house, I have bikes in the front room.”

  “Do you ride the bikes around inside the house?” She walked over to one that looked like the bike from the movie set and touched the shiny chrome.

  “G
otta ride somewhere when the weather’s bad outside.” He joined her by the bike and used a black cloth to wipe the spot she’d just touched. “Of course I don’t ride them inside the house. I wouldn’t want the engine exhaust getting upstairs.”

  “Right. Because that would be crazy.”

  “My house, my rules.”

  She moved toward a hallway. He caught her by the hand and held her back. “Where are you going? There’s nothing but bikes down here on the lower level.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “Do you want to give me a hard time about how I choose to live, or do you want to come upstairs and see the regular living space?”

  She shrugged. “I can give you a hard time about the upstairs.”

  Still holding her hand, he led her up a central staircase.

  The upper floor looked more like a regular house. Mainly because there were no motorbikes.

  “This house was originally a duplex,” he explained as he walked her over to the kitchen. “I did a full reno on the kitchen two years ago.” He slapped the poured concrete counter.

  The finishes were all steel, concrete, and sturdy-looking wood. “And what a renovation it was. It’s so masculine. One might call it a man-ovation.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t know we were already at the pun stage of the relationship. I suppose next you’ll be shaving your legs with my razor.”

  “We are on the fifth date,” she said. “The fifth date is for bad puns. Stealing your razor doesn’t happen for a while.”

  “I’m glad someone knows the routine.”

  She took a good look around the house. It was very open, with few interior divisions. The walls were bare of pictures, and all the furniture was black and leather. It screamed single man, which was appropriate.

  “Luca, your house is really nice. I’ve never dated anyone who lived in a house they owned. You’re an actual grown-up.”

  “Tell me about the guys you usually date.” He lifted the lid off a pot on the stove and stirred something. “While you tell me about them, look away while I hide the store-bought jar this sauce just came out of.”

  She took a seat on a tall chrome chair and looked away as asked.

  “My previous boyfriends were definitely a type. Nice guys. I know you don’t want to hear about them. You’re just being polite.”

  Luca kept stirring at the stove. “If they were so nice, what happened? Do you not like nice guys?”

  “You got me. All this time I’ve been single, I was secretly pining for Bad Boy Biker Boys. I’m holding out for one with a very special tattoo.”

  “Oh?”

  “The tattoo’s got to have three things. Bullets, barbed wire, and battleships.”

  He let out a long whistle. “I’d hate to run into that guy in a dark alley.”

  “I’m sure you’d be able to hold your own.”

  “I might, if you teach me some of your wrestling moves.” He picked up a red apron from the concrete counter and pulled it on over his head. “Tell me about your friends,” he said. “Are they into guys with tattoos of bullets, barbed wire, and battleships?”

  “No, just regular guys. And except for Rory, all my friends are getting married and having babies.”

  “Is that something you want?”

  “Ew,” she said.

  He brought her a glass of wine.

  “Ew?”

  “I dunno,” she said. “Eventually. Like, way, way off in the future. We don’t have to talk about this stuff now. We’re only on date number five.”

  “The date for bad puns,” he said.

  “Exactly.”

  She took a sip of the wine. Suddenly, the house felt very warm.

  None of the dating advice websites had prepared Tina for the fifth date. The next milestone was a year from now, when it was time to trick the guy into thinking he wanted to marry her. The articles were so stupid. And yet she always read them.

  Luca announced that the sauce was hot and it was time to move to the table.

  “Where?” She glanced around. The kitchen led to two other spaces. “I’m so used to my ridiculously small place, where everything is within arm’s distance.”

  He reached out and hugged her to his side. “That’s it,” he said. “That’s what I love about your place. There’s nowhere for you to get away.”

  She kissed him then pulled away. She took a guess at where the dining room was, and was right.

  He served dinner, and they ate while making light conversation about business comings and goings on Baker Street.

  Tina didn’t feel as comfortable as she did around her family or friends. She wasn’t as nervous as she’d been on the fourth date, but she was nervous enough to have a light burning sensation at the front of her throat. Was it Luca? He was being perfectly charming, paying attention to her, but not too much. If it wasn’t him, then it had to be the house. It was so big. So adult.

  Maybe there was a reason she usually dated man-children who spent their social lives online. Those guys didn’t intimidate her. They didn’t make her feel like she wasn’t doing enough with her life. She wasn’t exactly a go-getter. She was twenty-nine and lived with her mother, working the same job she’d had for a decade.

  Tina had looked up the term arrested development, which was more than just the name of a TV show, and had discovered that she might be the poster girl.

  The conversation shifted to Luca’s renovations at Ralph’s Garage.

  “We’re already taking bookings for the first month,” Luca said, suddenly picking up her plate.

  She stared at the plate in surprise. It was empty. Was she already done with eating? She’d been so busy holding up her end of the small talk while beating herself up in her head that she wasn’t sure she’d tasted the pasta. She hadn’t exactly been fully present.

  Why couldn’t she be more present and in the moment all the time, like Luca?

  He finished loading the dishwasher then returned and held out his hand.

  “Come on,” he said, helping her up. “Let’s go downstairs, and you can have your pick for our after-dinner ride.”

  “Our what?”

  “There’s nothing like an after-dinner ride,” he said. “This is why I didn’t have any wine. I’m good to drive. All you need to do is pick out which bike you want to take for a spin.”

  He led her back down the stairs, to all the motorbikes. It was still a shock to see bikes inside a house, but less of a shock than the first time.

  She took him over to the bike they’d rode on their second date, to the movie set. “This one’s my favorite,” she said without hesitation.

  His face lit up, as though she’d just passed a test. With flying colors.

  He leaned over the bike, his muscles rippling, and started rolling it. “There’s a ramp at the back door,” he said.

  She ran ahead of him, located the back door, and opened it for him.

  Luca’s backyard was a decent size—that part of the city had big lots—yet held nothing but yellowing grass and a few scraggly sticks that might have been decent bushes if someone had watered them.

  “I know, I know,” he said. “The backyard is a disgrace. But nobody sees it but me.”

  “It’s not a disgrace,” she said. “More of a wasted opportunity.”

  “Maybe it won’t be wasted forever.” He handed her a helmet. “Let’s roll while there’s plenty of sunset. There’s a special lookout spot I want to show you.”

  She pulled on her helmet, hopped on behind him, and held on tight as they rolled along the weed-strewn cobblestones next to the house and then out onto the street.

  The sky was gold and pink, making the precious minutes even more beautiful.

  They rode out of the neighborhood and then along a park. She could tell Luca knew the route well. They turned into a part of town she’d never seen before and took a winding road that curved and bent like a meandering river.

  Tina marveled at how instinctive it was to lean first one way
and then the other, keeping her body in line with Luca’s and the bike. The movement itself was pleasurable, like floating in a canoe on gentle waters, or coasting a bicycle down a hill.

  They parked, watched the sun set, and then, when the insects came out, they pulled on their helmets again.

  The single headlight sliced a path through the darkness, leading them home again.

  Chapter 20

  Graffiti.

  Tina Gardenia arrived at the flower shop on Monday morning. She hadn’t even opened the door, and her week was off to a bumpy start.

  Over the weekend, someone’s rotten kid had tagged the front of the shop with lime-green spray paint.

  With a few curse words, Tina opened the store and headed to the back room for the supplies. She had two choices: spend several hours trying to remove the paint with chemicals, or spend ten minutes painting over it. She grabbed the paint.

  Out front again, she gave the paint a quick stir then got to work with a brush. People walking by found this fascinating. She wasn’t sure why seeing a woman applying paint to bricks was so much more interesting than seeing the same woman sweeping the sidewalk and setting up a flower display, but it was.

  Folks kept stopping to say hello and ask what she was doing. Tina felt it was rather obvious what she was doing, but she had many friends in the area, and so she patiently explained the situation to each of them.

  The ten-minute job would take at least an hour, at the rate she was going.

  She was finally nearly done when Mr. Jackson, the owner of the pub, stopped by to chat. He was not Tina’s favorite. Mr. Jackson was just old enough to think he knew everything, but young enough to try to flirt with her. She quickly took stock of her outfit, checking to make sure she didn’t have any visible gaps for Mr. Jackson to look down.

  “You’d better stock up on paint, Tina,” he said. “Things are sliding downhill around here, and they’re liable to get worse. I’m getting a new safe put in, for the cash. It’ll be on a timelock. And I’m getting metal bars on the back door.”

  Was he joking? She looked up from her work.

  By the look on his face, Mr. Jackson wasn’t joking around.

  “Why all the security?” Tina asked. “Has there been some crime wave I don’t know about?”