“Nah, I got this. We’ll let him pass us, and I’ll go at him from behind. Easy.”
We continued to watch him walking closer, but just as he got a few car lengths from us, he stopped and looked across the street.
I glanced over and saw a sheriff’s vehicle parking at the coffee shop.
“Fuck.”
“He’s going to run.”
We waited for a split second more and saw the prick duck into the alley near the flower shop.
“Double fuck,” Noah said, and started reaching for his gun in the glove box.
I was out of the car before he reached it and on the hunt.
Chapter Three
~Madison~
“Not a word about this or I will cut you, and bury your remains, Patrick.”
He shrugged and gave me an innocent look. “Would I do that?”
My eyes narrowed as I looked at my delivery driver.
He worked for me, but he was also a volunteer firefighter which worked out perfectly since I knew he had to leave on short notice if he was on call. Some employers didn’t understand that, but it was something that I understood quite well and didn’t mind at all. That was their life, and it was one they should be proud of, rather than feeling guilty every time they left their normal jobs on a call.
“Not a word to Rachel. She’ll flip and start measuring me for wedding dresses.”
I shoved the last sprig of greenery into the flower arrangement I was making. It was done, and I was satisfied that it would make a nice gift to whatever girlfriend my customer was hoping to impress.
I looked at the order sheet in front of me and checked it off.
“This one is ready. You have five more in the cooler.”
I didn’t hear Patrick reply, and found him furiously scribbling something on a piece of printer paper.
“Patrick, did you hear me?”
He glanced up, like he was surprised I'd spoken.
“Uhm, yeah.”
I put a hand on my hip and asked, “What are you doing?”
He gave me an innocent look. “Betting pool?”
I snatched my trimming scissors off my work table and marched over to where he was sitting at my desk.
“For what?”
“Whether you’ll actually find a boyfriend before Christmas. I think I’m being fair. It’s August. You have plenty of time.”
I grabbed the sheet from the desk. It was a convoluted chart with months and days that had a prize money amount at the top.
I gave him my death stare.
“What? It’s for the boys. The fire department needs some entertainment.”
I took my scissors and started cutting the sheet into tiny uneven pieces that fell to the floor in front of him.
“I know where you live, Patrick. I will kill you if this gets around to the boys.”
“You technically said don’t tell Rachel. You didn’t say that I couldn’t tell a few of the guys about this.”
I gave him a dumbfounded look. “Are you serious?! Once one of you gets word of this, the entire department knows about it. It’s like a firestorm of gossip. You guys need something else to do other than talk about my love life.”
“It was too rainy last month for anything remotely exciting. This is like the biggest news that’s happened since that fire at the campground.”
“No. No. And NO!”
He rolled his eyes. “Fine. Don’t get your panties in a twist.”
“Panties?!” I smacked him on the shoulder twice. “Get out of here before I commit homicide. Not a damn word. Just because you overheard me talking to myself, doesn’t mean it’s news or up for public debate.”
“You talk to yourself all the time. It wasn’t my fault you finally said something interesting. Normally it’s about flowers or strangling your sister. This time it’s actually something epic.”
I closed my eyes and pinched my nose.
“Get out! Take that one on the counter with you.”
He chuckled and loaded the arrangement on the counter into a specialized crate that kept the arrangements steady during delivery in the shop truck.
I took off my smock, put the scissors away, and washed my hands in the sink.
I heard the back door open behind me as Patrick carried out the crate.
“Hey, Maddie?” Patrick called out.
I turned around, drying my hands with a towel. “Yeah?”
He smiled. “If you need a date, I’m always here.”
“Yeah, yeah. Get out of here,” I said, causing the younger man to give me a grin as he exited.
Patrick hadn’t been around long enough to remember Jason. But everyone’s private life was always up for comment in a firehouse. Especially with the Battalion Chief’s daughters. All of them knew who we were, or had heard something at some point, about Rachel and me.
His words were intended well, but it reminded me to watch my mouth as well as my habit of talking out loud to myself, around any of them.
When the door chimed in the shop, I went through the swinging doors to greet whoever it was. The scent of flowers from the shop hit me, and I took a deep breath.
The flower arrangements that we made at the beginning of each week still looked incredibly fresh. Their glass vases, in multiple colors, glistened in the morning light. We did a lot of custom work, but there were many times that people just wanted to buy something premade and leave. So, we had everything from the very elaborate bouquets, to the single rose arrangement lined up for whomever decided to come in.
Rachel walked through the shop smiling at me. She was wearing a blue t-shirt that looked similar to one I had, and a pair of jeans.
Oh, gawd. Did she know?
“Hey, sis!”
“Hey there,” I said with a mild bit of hesitation. “Did you change at the house?”
She flipped her long brown hair over her shoulder and shrugged. “I went home and showered. I love having breakfast with Dad on Wednesday mornings, but I don’t love smelling like bacon the rest of the day. By the way, you left the coffee pot on again, I turned it off.”
“Thanks, I probably forgot to lock the back door too,” I said, as I reached down and pulled the shirt I was wearing up to my nose. “I don’t smell like bacon.”
“Maddie, your nose is fried from being in this shop all the time. I can smell it from here.”
I arched an eyebrow at her. “Right.”
She nodded. “It’s true. OH!”
Her eyes got big like she was about to launch into planning a wedding venue for me. She slapped her hands down on the counter and leaned in.
“Dad called.”
I grimaced. Here it came.
“He did?” I squeaked as I busied my hands with the receipts on the counter.
“Yes! And he said that we could repaint the house, and replace that old couch but—”
I looked toward the heavens and sent up out a small plea of mercy.
“—he was waiting on something. He said some sort of deal he had made for the painting. I wanted some sea green in there, but he absolutely said no. So, it’s back to the drawing board on that one. Do you think he would like taupe?”
I let out a sigh of relief. Dad hadn’t ratted me out.
“Taupe,” I said thinking. “Maybe. I just think he wants it to be a masculine color. Are you talking yellow taupe?”
She got a starry look in her eyes. “I was thinking desert taupe or a rose taupe. Just a hint of red—”
“He’ll say it looks purple.”
She frowned at me. “It’s not purple. It’s brownish rose. I already have the color swatches. All he has to do is point to which shade he wants and I’m on it.”
“Why don’t you let him tell you what he wants? Not everything has to be planned out.”
“Why not? If you plan, then you don’t get surprised by anything crazy. It’s better than just floating along and then WHAM life hits you in the face.”
“You can’t predict everything. It’s just h
ow it goes.”
She rolled her eyes. “Whatever. What’s the plan today?”
I looked down at my planner on the desk.
“Well, Patrick just took some orders out for early delivery. Four from the ones I finished last night, and one I did when we got in. But we have three that I need to get to for the afternoon, and then it’s just the usual.”
The usual meant calling our vendors for orders and taking an inventory of what we had left in the back for supplies. It was the same routine nearly every day especially during the week when people didn’t typically come into the shop before noon.
We had some regulars that would stop by from time to time, but for the most part it was a quiet shop even during the peak summer season. The tourists would sometimes stop by, but our main orders came from the locals.
The shop was located in an older part of the city, but not so old that it didn’t get a fair amount of foot traffic. We turned a profit each year, and it was well known due to the fact that it had our family name on the sign out front.
Everyone knew who the Crawford Flower Shop belonged to and they were all eager to help out a local business.
Our mother had started it shortly after she had gotten married to our dad, and it had been open now for over thirty years. Even when she had fallen ill and had died shortly after a routine surgery on her liver it had stayed open. During those years, my father had managed it, but as Rachel and I had grown older, we'd taken over.
It had officially become ours as part owners four years ago, and we 'd taken on the reins of running it with very little issues.
I corrected myself. Very few issues other than getting Rachel in the shop on a consistent basis. She was always involved in something, leaving the shop to fall on my shoulders. I didn’t mind so much, except at the holidays when our orders doubled. It kept me busy, though, and I loved it.
Knowing that my arrangements brought a smile to someone’s love life or provided comfort to the sick or grieving made me proud of what I did. It wasn’t a corporate job, it wasn’t something that would change the world or cure disease. It brought a little bit of happiness to people and that was something that I felt was fulfilling.
It was lonely some days. Flowers don’t talk. Neither do the books. But running my own business gave me purpose and direction.
Thinking about my bargain with Dad and Rachel’s insistence on dating, I acknowledged that it might be nice to share those feelings with someone else. Even if they never stepped foot in my shop, it would at least feel a little bit less solitary.
I moved toward the glass cases on the left wall while Rachel took the right. We checked for drooping flowers and dried out leaves as we went along.
There was a commotion outside. I looked up to see a tall man in a white t-shirt, black vest, and jeans running by.
“What the hell was that?” Rachel asked, echoing my thoughts exactly.
There was a sheriff’s deputy across the road who also looked up in alarm and went to his car.
I was about to step outside when another tall man opened the door to the shop, glancing around.
Rachel and I both walked back to the counter in some sort of synced intuition that he wasn’t there to buy flowers.
“Can I help you?” I asked.
The man looked at me but paused like he was listening for something. He was tall with broad shoulders and had a suit jacket on. His dark brown hair and amber eyes fell on Rachel, then didn’t move.
I frowned at him and tugged on my sister to move her toward me a bit more.
He put out a hand in a calm gesture. “Just stay here. Don’t go out of this room for a few minutes.”
Then he left through the front door and moved down the sidewalk slightly, but still within view.
Rachel went around the counter and walked toward the windows.
“Rachel stay away from that guy. I’m calling the police. He’s acting strange.”
She turned her head sideways looking at the man from behind. “What’s he looking for?”
I dialed the police but kept my eyes on the stranger in front of our window.
“I don’t know, but it’s weird.”
As I spoke with the dispatcher over the phone, I watched as the Sheriff pulled away from the curb in his vehicle across the street. He made a sharp turn into the alley beside our building.
His siren went off twice, like he was signaling someone.
The man in front of the window walked in that direction, and Rachel leaned toward the glass to watch him go.
The dispatcher told me to stay on the line. I was more concerned with Rachel, who was way too close to the windows, and the stranger who hadn’t come back into view.
I set the phone on the counter but didn’t hang up. I walked over to Rachel, wondering if we should go ahead and leave the building despite the strange man’s instructions.
I tugged on her arm. “Come back over to the counter. I don’t like this at all. The police said they were sending someone, but I told them about the Sheriff too.”
She shrugged me off. “There’s nothing happening out there. Maybe I should go outside and look.”
“No! At least stay inside,” I said and went back to the counter to talk to the dispatcher. “And lock the damn door!”
I nearly made it around the counter and to the phone, when I heard the door in the back slam, then a crash. The sound of hundreds of different pieces of glass hitting the floor had me backing away.
My feet planted in fear as I listened to the noises in the back, but I found that I couldn’t move. My sister’s voice called out to me and I turned to look at her.
The man in the suit had a hand around her waist and was dragging her out the front door. She had a surprised look on her face, as she struggled against him.
Oh, God, not Rachel! If that man hurt her, I would kill him.
Just as I stepped toward them and started yelling, I heard a huge pop behind me. Swinging my eyes back to the shop door that led into my back room, I saw a thin man in a leather jacket fling the door open and stumble out.
He looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t place where I had seen him at. Maybe someone that had come in the store once not too long ago.
His eyes hit mine, then looked back to the other room.
“You gotta help me. That man back there is trying to kill me, miss. “
I struggled to say anything at all, half frozen in place. Fear laced through me as I took a step toward him and noticed that his leg was bleeding.
“I—”
“Get back!!” I heard a man yell.
I swung my eyes toward the backroom door again and saw the man in the white t-shirt and black vest slowly walking out. There was blood smeared across his shirt and dripping down his arm.
He was the same man I'd seen running past the window earlier. His face was focused on the first man, and he had a gun pointed at the thin man’s chest.
The thin man sneered at him, moving the hand at his side. That’s when I noticed his gun.
“This guy is gonna kill me, miss. He’s dangerous! Help me get outta here!” the thin man pleaded. The look of desperation in his eyes was very real.
My heart was pounding in my chest, my breath coming in fast gulps.
The man with the vest on slid around the counter, still facing the thin man. He was backing toward me at a slow pace and coming closer.
“Shut up, fucker! Put that gun down now!” the man in front of me bellowed.
I wasn’t sure which man I feared the most. The one that looked desperate, or the one that was getting closer to me by the second.
The thin man dropped his gun. “He’s gonna kill both of us!”
I made a split decision. I was worried about Rachel with the man that dragged her through the front door. He seemed to be working with the man in the vest, and he gave me the creeps. The man with the desperate eyes was pleading with me to save him and possibly myself from being killed.
I reached over to one of our displa
ys, just as the thin man turned suddenly toward the door and brought the heavy vase of flowers down upon the man’s head in front of me.
The impact hit him with a loud thump.
He groaned as he stumbled forward. The thin man raced to the door and out of the shop leering at me.
“Thanks!” he yelled over his shoulder then was gone.
Fuck! What just happened?
My eyes swung back to the man in front of me. He dropped to the floor and seemed to crumple into a ball.
That’s when I heard the sirens of the police coming down the block. The front door chimed, and Rachel came racing into the shop with the man in the suit behind her.
“Maddie! Are you okay?!” she screeched as she raced up to me and grabbed me in a bear hug.
“Wha…? What just happened?” I managed to ask.
The man in the suit knelt beside the man in the vest and rolled him on his back.
He looked nearly exactly like the man in the suit.
Rachel spoke up. “This is Noah, and the guy on the floor I think is his brother, Owen. That man that just ran out is a fugitive or something.”
“Oh, God,” I said as I looked at the man on the floor. He groaned once but didn’t move much.
I walked forward and knelt beside him, putting my hand on his head. His vest, I now noticed, looked like something a police officer would wear. In my panic over the whole incident, I hadn’t noticed it. It was different but looked similar.
“Please don’t die. I’m so sorry,” I said to his closed eyes and slack face. “I am so, so, sorry. I thought you were the bad guy.”
His brother, Noah chuckled. “He’ll be fine. He’s got a thick skull. Let me deal with the police.”
I heard Rachel and Noah start talking, then my front door chime go off.
I kept running my fingers over Owen’s forehead, hoping he would wake up. His mouth opened, and his head moved to the side.
My fingers traced his square jaw and the slight stubble on his face. I noticed his full bottom lip as he ran a tongue over it, and the crease of a frown forming on his face.
Smoldering Heart_Fleming Brothers [Book 1] Page 3
