“Sure.” Jake pulled out a hose so he could give everything a final rinse. “You gonna start another mash today?”
Dean shook his head. “Not now. I’m actually gonna head home after this appointment.”
Jake looked surprised but nodded. “Good for you, man. You need a break.”
His friend was right. He needed to try to unwind. His nerves felt fried, and the lack of sleep was catching up with him. Sounded like a good night to just get a pizza and try to zone out for a while. Take his mind off things.
Wouldn’t be easy to do since he had to spend the next couple of hours in Charlotte’s presence.
* * *
It was impossible not to be happy in a flower shop, Charlotte thought as she meandered through Harrington’s Floral Design, which sat on the opposite side of the square from the Stag. Mark Harrington was an up-and-coming florist in the area, and considering that beautiful photos of his earliest weddings hung on the walls of his shop all courtesy of Charlotte, she was hoping to exploit his goodwill for return favors.
She didn’t doubt that he expected it from her the minute she’d called and made the appointment, but he’d seemed really excited about the job. He’d also not been shy about how much he liked setting up at the Stag so he could check out the “luscious owners.” His words, but she’d agreed wholeheartedly.
The bell sounded and she turned. Speaking of luscious owners …
“Hey,” she said as Dean walked in.
His eyebrows popped up when he saw her. “Hi.” He spoke quietly, which was cute. He looked completely out of place surrounded by giant floral bouquets and home décor. “Your hair…”
Charlotte touched a piece of hair at her shoulder. Yesterday she’d gotten it cut and highlighted. It was quite a change. Much lighter than before. “Yeah, I was in the mood for something different.”
“It’s…” His eyes wandered over her face. “I really like it.”
“Thanks.”
He quickly looked away, eyes darting around the shop. “There’s a lot to take in.”
“Isn’t it gorgeous? I love coming in here.” Charlotte inhaled. The scent was heavenly.
“I hear a man in my shop,” a singsongy voice said from the back room, and then Mark pushed through a white curtain. “And I’m not disappointed.”
Charlotte chuckled quietly as Mark eyed Dean from head to toe.
“Dean, this is Mark,” she said.
“Hi, Mark.” Dean reached out his hand but the man bypassed it, going straight in for a hug—which clearly took Dean by surprise. His eyes widened and darted to Charlotte, who couldn’t wipe the grin from her face.
“So happy to meet another one of you Stag men. We’re all friends here,” Mark said as he pushed Dean away and then embraced Charlotte. She was used to Mark’s hugs. He was a larger-than-life guy—in personality and in stature, with a thick dark beard and colorful tattoos going down each arm. He was as sweet as could be, although he had an intense side as she’d often seen as he set up for weddings. She assumed it was just his perfectionism getting the better of him, which she could understand.
Mark turned back to Dean. “So, your sister is getting married. Fantastic.”
“She is. I’m sorry to say we’re on somewhat of a budget. Time- and money-wise.”
Mark laughed and then held a conspiratorial hand to the side of his mouth. “That’s what they all say, in the beginning,” he murmured.
“We truly are, this time, Mark,” Charlotte threw in. “But there was no way I could go to anyone but you. Alex deserves the best, even if we have to use budget blooms.”
She hoped to appeal to his ego, and it appeared to work like a charm. “Of course she does. And you’re so sweet. Love your new hair by the way.” He touched Charlotte’s arm quickly and then headed over to his counter and pulled out his notebook.
“Let’s talk details,” he said, sliding a pair of tortoiseshell glasses onto his face.
They proceeded to give him the fast-approaching date—which had his eyebrows rising—and the location, which he’d assumed correctly would be the Stag.
“Attendants?” he asked.
“None,” Dean said.
“Hmm. Unusual but easy. Very easy.” Mark made a note in his notebook. “Colors?”
“She likes green.”
“I also love green.” After a few more notes, Mark looked up. “Okay. Usually there is a contrast color.”
“I guess whatever looks good with green?” Dean asked.
Mark turned to Charlotte.
“The invitation I kept neutral. Golds and ivories.”
“Okaaay, so what if we really made the greenery pop by using a neutral color palette. Whites, ivories, maybe just a hint of a peach.”
“I love that idea,” Charlotte interjected. She glanced at Dean, who just nodded his approval. Had he been staring at her?
“Buffet or plated?” Mark continued.
“Buffet,” Charlotte said.
The questions continued and finally Mark led them to the walk-in cooler along the back of the shop. It was bursting with color. Roses, lilies, carnations, and even tropical flowers like birds-of-paradise lined the walls. It smelled so wonderful.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” Charlotte said, looking up at Dean.
“It is. Looks expensive, too,” he whispered.
Charlotte squeezed his arm playfully, and then quickly pulled away. She didn’t want to make him uncomfortable, but God how she loved the feel of corded muscle under his skin.
“Now, now, don’t get caught up on the price.” Mark turned to face them. “I’ll make sure everything is gorgeous and we’ll stay in your budget. Charlotte’s done many things for me over the past two years while I got this place off the ground.”
Charlotte breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Mark. We really appreciate it.”
The next fifteen minutes flew by as they discussed different flowers, centerpiece ideas, and thoughts on the setup for the reception. Mark and Charlotte agreed that two main arrangements could do double duty: They’d use them during the ceremony and then move them to flank the buffet table.
Standing in the cooler for so long was making her cold and when her thoughts strayed that direction, the hair on her shoulders began to rise in response. She gave a little shiver as Mark went on about the different varieties of white roses he had available.
Warm hands settled on her upper arms and rubbed up and down. Charlotte sucked in a breath and didn’t miss the subtle look and smile Mark sent her when he saw Dean touching her with such ease and familiarity. He didn’t break his speech or give anything away, just kept on with his explanation.
Charlotte expected Dean to pull away after rubbing her arms, but he held on, his hands settling just above her elbows, the feel of his skin nearly burning her. His thumbs gently traced back and forth on the backs of her arms, which made her shiver again. That made him stop, and she silently cursed her body’s involuntary responses.
She now knew what it felt like to kiss him. Today she saw how her body would react with just the lightest, innocent touch. It was almost too much to imagine what it would be like if he touched her entire naked body with real heat and passion.
Managing not to shiver a third time, Charlotte was relieved when they exited the cooler. The smaller space had forced her to stand way too close to Dean.
They’d decided that Alex’s bouquet would be a mix of delicate white roses, green and peach hydrangeas, succulents, and eucalyptus leaves. Nate’s boutonniere would be a tiny succulent backed by a single eucalyptus leaf. The overall look would be natural and elegant. Charlotte was beyond pleased with how things were coming together. She had finally begun to picture the wedding in her mind, and it surprised her how excited she felt about it.
“Well, I think we have a plan, my dears.” Mark glanced down at his notes. “Let me just run a few quick figures and I’ll let you know where we stand on these ideas.”
“Perfect. Thank you,” Charlotte and
Dean said at the same time. When Mark walked to the rear of the shop and around to the back of the counter, it left the two of them somewhat alone. Within seconds music came on from the speakers in the ceiling, a local jazz radio station. Charlotte glanced over her shoulder to Mark, who gave her a quick wink and then refocused on his notepad and calculator.
She smiled. Did he assume after the cooler that they wished for a moment of privacy? Dean had wandered up to the front end of the shop and was eyeing a dining table made up for a dinner party complete with massive centerpiece and place settings. Hardly something a man like him would find so engaging. Was he back to avoiding her?
Deciding that wouldn’t do, Charlotte walked over to him. “This is beautiful, isn’t it?”
“Hmm. A little much. Who’d want to eat at a table this full of … stuff?” he whispered.
She laughed quietly. “It’s for inspiration.”
He sauntered to another display, this one patriotic, gearing up for Independence Day, which would arrive before they knew it. Dean picked up a packet of designer paper napkins that looked like American flags and then dropped it back down a little too firmly. “I hate that Alex re-enlisted.”
Whoa. That was out of left field and Charlotte wasn’t sure what to say. She could see that Dean felt very protective and paternal about his little sister. But Alexis was a grown woman. “Italy seems like a very safe place to be stationed.”
“It is, I think. Especially compared with the Middle East, where she’s been.”
“Where do they plan to live once they’re out?”
“I honestly don’t know. I hope around here.”
Charlotte smiled. “Just think. A couple of years from now, you could be a grandpa.” She said it to tease him, but the way he looked at her showed that he hadn’t appreciated it.
“Is that how you see me?”
“Oh my God, no! Not at all.” Charlotte regretted the joke completely, considering their previous conversations and the things Lauren had suggested. What had she been thinking? “I’m sorry. I just … in some ways you just seem more of a fatherly figure to Alex, and she is old enough for children. I … anyway. No. The last thing I imagine you as is grandfatherly. Remember, I saw you shirtless.”
She gave him a flirty smile, hoping it would ease things over, but his eyes narrowed. “Speaking of that. I think, uh, Jake is interested in being a model for you.”
Her eyes went wide. “Seriously? That would be amazing.”
His gaze shot to her and he shoved his hands in his pockets. “You think?”
“Well … yeah. I can totally see him as a book cover.”
Dean gave somewhat of a grunt and looked back at the table. “Yeah, well, just don’t make out with him, too.”
Charlotte’s head jerked back in shock. “Wow. Is that how you see me?” She threw his words back at him.
He shook his head and walked away toward the windows at the front of the store.
“Okay, ladies and gentleman. Here we go.” Mark came walking through the store toward them, and Charlotte forced herself to smile. In reality she was stewing at Dean’s comment. Why hadn’t they been able to find some sort of common ground since that stupid kiss?
Dean accepted the invoice from Mark, so Charlotte peeked over his shoulder to read it. She gasped. The proposed total was a steal. She was guessing not a whole lot over his cost.
“Oh, Mark. Are you sure?” Charlotte asked.
“Very. Now are we in business?”
Dean nodded and stuck out his hand, which this time Mark took. “Thank you, Mark. This means a lot. Really. And Alex will love your work.”
“Of course she will. And I want lots of photos, dear,” he said in Charlotte’s direction.
“Absolutely. And maybe some new canvases for the store.”
“Now we’re talking,” Mark said.
They said their good-byes and Charlotte led the way outside to the sidewalk. As soon as Dean joined her and the door shut, she turned. “Ready to explain yourself?”
“For what?” He tried looking confused, but she knew Dean was no dummy. He sidestepped her, making his way into the street and crossing toward the green space at the center of the square.
“Don’t make out with Jake?” She repeated his words back to him while following close on his heels.
“Charlotte, just forget it.” Dean stepped around a parked car and onto the sidewalk.
Once she caught up, she grabbed his arm, stopping him in his tracks. He turned, a scowl on his handsome face.
“You do not get to make that comment and then walk away. Do you really think I make out with my models? I thought I was pretty clear about that.”
He sighed. “You were.”
Charlotte held up her hands in exasperation. “Soooo, your words were coming from a place of bitterness or jealousy? Or maybe regret? Just get it out there. Be honest with me, because I’m really over how ridiculous things have been between us since that day.”
“You want me to get it all out on the table?” he asked. Charlotte nodded, ignoring the few passersby walking through the park. “Okay, fine. When it comes to you photographing Jake? Yes. I’m jealous as hell.”
She swallowed and stared up at him. Here they went again, back and forth. “Why? It won’t be the same.”
Dean glanced around and then lowered his voice. “He’ll still take off his shirt. You’ll tell him to look … sexy, or hot, or whatever the hell it is you’ll want him to do.”
“That doesn’t mean I’ll like it.”
Dean gave her a long glance. “I’m not an idiot, Charlotte. And you’re not immune to a guy who looks like that.”
“Have you ever heard of self-control? Or loyalty, or even trust?”
“You don’t owe me anything. This is my issue. I shouldn’t have said anything, okay? I’m sorry.” He ran a hand down his face. “God, I keep apologizing to you, which is exactly why what we did was a mistake.”
Her heart sank. “Was kissing me that big a mistake?”
“Damn it.” He jammed his hands into his hair and then dropped them with a heavy sigh. “This is what I wanted to avoid. I didn’t want to feel this way. Didn’t want things to change between us.”
“But they did, so what now? How do we go back?”
“I don’t know if we can.”
“Then which way do we go? Forward? Sideways? Upside down? Because this weird thing we’re doing is bullshit.” Charlotte stepped closer to him, her neck bending to meet his gaze. “Dean, I liked kissing you. I don’t regret it. After all these years of flirting, it was totally natural for us to kiss. And if that’s all it’s going to be, then … we’re both adults. We can move past it.”
Dean shook his head. “It’s more than that, Charlotte, and you know it. If it was merely curiosity, this wouldn’t be a problem. I wouldn’t want to rip one of my best friends into shreds when I imagine you seeing him naked.”
Okay. Maybe they were getting somewhere. “He wouldn’t be naked,” she said with a smile.
“You know what I mean. I’ve always liked you, Charlotte. I’m a possessive guy and after kissing you … I’m just having a hard time reminding myself that I have no right to be that way with you.”
“But what if I want you to have the right?”
Dean stared down at her, his neck bulging as he swallowed. “You shouldn’t. It’s a bad idea.”
“Why don’t you tell me what you’re afraid of?” she asked quietly.
His lips pursed and he looked away. Charlotte watched as the wind blew the tips of his hair, the lightest bit of gray sparkling in the sun. His silence told her that Lauren had been close to the truth. Their age difference was a real problem for him, but if he couldn’t see past that, then why was she wasting her time trying to convince him she was worth the risk? It was starting to become apparent that he was being a real dick about the entire thing. If he couldn’t even admit his fear to her, there really was no use.
“I guess I’ll let you off the hoo
k for that one. I have a lot of work to do,” she finally said. If he wanted to put up boundaries, she wasn’t going to beg. “We have two appointments next Tuesday. Both cake tastings. I’ll pick you up here since I know where they are.”
Dean nodded. “Sounds good.”
So she was right. He was willing to leave things like this, with him admitting he liked her and was jealous, but also unwilling to act on it or even speak about it. Fine. She had better things to do than wait for him to get over himself.
“All right. See you then.”
She began to turn and head for her car.
“Charlotte, wait.”
She turned back to find him watching her, hands in his pockets. “Thanks again for today. Getting us that deal on the flowers. I appreciate it.”
She gave him a pinched smile, because it was really tempting to tell him to go to hell. “Yeah, sure. What are friends for?”
And she walked away.
Twelve
Charlotte hadn’t really known what to expect from Shelby and her friends, but she’d been pleasantly surprised. They’d greeted her at Mary Sue’s home Saturday morning with hugs and how-are-yous, acting as if no time had passed between high school and the present. The best part was that everyone seemed genuine, which was nice. Shelby had run in a different circle of girls than Charlotte, but they’d all been friendly acquaintances so it wasn’t as if she was with strangers.
Thank God, no one mentioned John. And she was trying really hard to forget the fact that she’d have to see him in less than an hour. The girls were close to ready, so Charlotte stepped into the kitchen to get some water and take a breather. Glancing at her phone she saw a text from Lauren, who had headed over to the house Shelby and Jason had purchased together just a few months prior and would be moving into after their wedding. The guys were getting ready there.
LAUREN: He asked about you.
Charlotte bit at her bottom lip and then replied.
CHARLOTTE: What did you say?
She wasn’t sure what she hoped her friend had said. Anything but She’s still single. Which was stupid since it was a shamefully true statement.
Maybe I Do Page 13
