by Holly Kerr
“That’s a good thing.”
I lean down to kiss her but her giggle stops me. “Why are you laughing?”
“I don’t know,” she admits. “I don’t want to be. But doesn’t this feel strange?”
“It feels pretty good to me,” I growl. My arms tighten around her waist, my hands linked at the small of her back.
“This means we’re more than just friends,” she reminds me.
I smooth her hair with my hand. “Flora, we were more than friends the moment you sat down across the table at the IHOP. But the timing was off.”
“And then I left.”
“And then you left.”
“But then you found me. And you left. But you found me again.”
“I will always find you,” I tell her seriously, staring into her eyes. Flora breaks the moment with another giggle. “Will you stop laughing?”
“I think that’s from a movie.”
“What?”
“The line—I will always find you. I’ve heard it before.”
“Are you kidding me?” My roar makes Cappie jump up from his bed in the corner with a start. “I’m using my best lines and you laugh?” Forgetting about the coffee, I pick her up easily and throw her over my shoulder. After the initial shriek, Flora laughs and keeps laughing as I carry her to the living room.
“You need better lines,” she says as I throw her onto the couch. She giggles, trying to roll away as I launch myself on top of her.
“You better teach me then.” I kiss her and shift so I’m not crushing her.
“Dean?” Flora whispers. Her hand moves from my chest to my beard. “I like this.”
I rub my chin. “I trimmed a bit. Didn’t want to be too Tormund.”
“It’s perfect,” she admits, her fingers on her own chin. “But I did have a bit of a beard burn this morning.”
I kiss her chin, her jaw, moving to the sensitive skin on her throat that I found earlier when a hitch in her breathing stops me. “What is it?”
“I have to say something.” Her hands, at first so soft and caressing on my chest push me away. I shift onto my elbow, half off the couch but not wanting to move an inch away from her.
“Say whatever you want.”
“I can’t be in love with someone who doesn’t love me first,” Flora says in a low voice. “I never came first with Thomas. I can’t do that again. I just can’t. I lost myself because I was always so consumed with being the person Thomas wanted me to be, so he’d love me more. I was always competing for his attention. I can’t do that again. You’re—I don’t know how you feel about Evelyn, but I know she still has a big place in your heart. Until that’s gone, or at least you’ve come to terms with it, I don’t know how to do this.” She swallows audibly. “I should have told you this before.” She looks at me, clearly uncertain of my reaction.
“I’m not in love with her. I still care about her, but I care that she’s happy, her well-being. I don’t love her.” I take a deep breath. “I love you. I have for a while now.”
Flora catches her breath. “You love me?”
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“I should have told you before—last night or this morning…”
“I told you last night. At least I told myself. I love you,” she whispers.
“Can I kiss you again?”
She pulls me down to her.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Flora
The next morning I find myself humming as I drive to the shop. I left Dean asleep in my bed and Cappie in his care.
Last night was the second night he’d stayed over.
My smile widens as I swing into M.K.’s bakery.
“Someone’s in a good mood,” M.K. calls as soon as she sees me.
“Yes, I am.”
“Good weekend?”
I hug myself. “Great weekend! Oh, M.K. I didn’t expect this at all. Dean was Dean and I never thought—I’m not making any sense. I’m just so happy. Did you see this coming?”
“Yes.” M.K. smiles smugly. “Everyone saw this coming except for the two of you. It was as predictable as a rom-com movie.”
“But if this was a rom-com, then the bad stuff would happen. The stuff that tears the couple apart.”
“Your life is not a movie.”
“If it was, it’d be a good movie.”
“I’m happy for you. Is it officially more than friends now?”
“I think so. I’d better get to the shop. Dean kept me busy all weekend. Talk to you later.”
“Later,” M.K. calls.
Coffee in hand, I dance down the sidewalk between the stores, waving to Mrs. Wu in the window of the dry cleaners, sending the cat in the window at the pet food store racing after my fingers pressed against the glass. I take a moment to admire the containers flanking the door, the greens still smelling fresh. The orange mums I took from the nursery gives a welcome burst of colour against the kale and heuchera, the reddish purple grasses the perfect centrepiece. Each container has a tiny pumpkin nestled among the greens.
I’ve already taken seven orders from customers who want the same arrangement.
After a thorough search for dead leaves, I adjust one of the pumpkins before I head inside.
Imogene has the morning off, which is probably a good thing. I’m so happy that I feel like I’m going to burst like an overripe melon left out in the fields too long. It’s better if I don’t talk to anyone. It’s better for everyone if I have some alone time until I can rein in some of my giddiness.
I can’t stop thinking of Dean as I start the morning routine of watering, and checking the plants in the back. I stop myself before I start burrowing into the dirt. I have to man the front this morning and if I start playing in the back, who knows what time I’d get the door unlocked. The cash drawer still needs to be brought out, the deposit readied for the bank. And I have to remember to turn down the music before I open because right now Ed Sheeran is singing about how I’m perfect.
I get it all done and unlock promptly at ten.
I can’t stop thinking of Dean. He had planned to go for a run so I keep hoping he’ll stop in. When the bell over the door tinkles, I look up with a smile, expecting to see him.
It’s not Dean.
“Thomas.” My throat dries up like a fan has sucked all the moisture out of the room. “What are you doing here?”
“I needed to see you.” At his first step towards me, I rear back like I’m bracing myself. “I’ve missed you.”
“You’ve missed me?” I set down the Gerbera daisy I’m holding, knowing I might well snap it in half without realizing it. “You’re married. Not to me.”
“I know.” It’s only been a couple of months since I’d last seen him, but there are already a few more strands of silver in his hair and deeper lines around his eyes.
I count his steps, knowing the closer he gets, that I’ll be trapped behind the counter with nowhere to run.
Because I need to run. I need to get out of this space before Thomas says something I don’t want to hear. I can see it in his expression, the way he carries himself with the tension in his shoulders.
He looks good. The tiny pooch that had been there for the last year seems to have disappeared, or maybe it’s the new jeans.
Thomas never wore jeans, always khakis or pants of some colour and fabric.
He’s at the counter now, reaching for my hand. “No.”
“You don’t even know what I’m going to say.”
“I can’t do this. You’re with Evelyn now. You made your choice.”
Thomas picks up the daisy on the counter and hands it to me. “What if I made the wrong one?”
Dean
I stop at M.K.’s for coffee before heading to Fleur. Tying Cappie’s leash to the post outside, I open the door with a goofy smile on my face, the same smile that’s been there for the last forty-eight hours.
“Another one in a good mood,” M.K. says from behind the counter.
/> “You saw Flora?”
“How could I miss her? She was glowing.”
My smile is about to split my face in two. “How are you this morning?” I ask, trying to tamp it down.
“Not as good as you.”
That does the trick. M.K’s eyes are purple shadowed and she looks like she hasn’t slept. “What happened?”
M.K. holds on to her grim smile that’s more like a grimace. “Nothing that a little time and distance can’t handle, because that’s obviously what he wants.”
I groan. “Please tell me Clay didn’t mess it up.”
Her smile breaks at the sound of his name. “I don’t know what happened. Things were so good and I thought maybe I’d have a chance this time, but over the weekend, he just wasn’t there. He was so distant.” A tear trickles down her cheek. “Last night was the first night we hadn’t been together.”
“Has he said anything?”
“Nothing. That’s the problem. He’d been so open, telling me everything. We’ve talked about his past, his parents. There are no secrets between us. At least there wasn’t, but now this. I don’t know what to do.”
“Don’t do anything,” I say automatically.
“But what if he’s getting cold feet? We were talking about moving in together.” The sadness in her voice breaks my heart.
“Honestly? If he is getting cold feet, there’s nothing you can do about it. He doesn’t do well with clingy women. Not that you are.” I raise my hand to still M.K.’s quick protest. “But just give him a little space. He loves you. I can tell that, even if he didn’t already tell me. Everything will be fine.”
“He told you?” Her face softens with hope and relief.
“He can’t stop talking about it. It’s annoying, actually. But sweet. I’ve never seen him act like this before.”
“So how do you know it’ll be okay?”
“Because it has to be,” I say simply. “When I see the two of you together, I can’t see any reason that you can’t make it work. Clay knows this. Maybe he’s just scared of what this means.”
“What does it mean?”
“That he’s looking at forever with you, and that’s an awesome, but kind of scary thought.”
M.K. drops her head. “I can’t imagine my life without him. I know I haven’t known him long enough to think that, but I do. I don’t know what I’d do without him.”
“You think that now, but you’d be fine without him.”
She meets my eyes. “That sounded kind of pathetic, didn’t it?”
“It sounded like you’re in love with him, and that’s nice to hear. But coming from someone who thought that I would shrivel up and fade away when Evelyn and I broke up, I can say you’ll be okay without him. Not that it’s going to happen.”
“You think he’s just scared?”
“I hope so. Or something as easy to fix. Because if he messes this up with you, he’s going to have to answer to me.”
M.K.’s smile is full of gratitude. “You’re his friend first.”
“Team M.K., all the way.”
“Flora’s lucky you found her.”
“I think I’m the lucky one.”
“I’ll get your coffee. I can hear Cappie.” The dog’s barks are evident through the windows, gaining volume every time a customer pushes open the door.
Cappie pulls me down the sidewalk to Flora’s. The dog was devastated when Flora left without him that morning, sitting by the door with more of a hangdog expression on his face than usual. “She’s right here,” I say as the dog reaches the containers outside the store.
I smile when I see her.
But then I see her expression. See the man who stands before her, holding her hand. Cappie lunges straight for Thomas, wagging his stump of a tail in hello. Thomas ignores him, gripping Flora’s hand even when she tries to pull away.
“What are you doing here? Flora? What’s he want?”
“He split up with Evelyn,” Flora whispers.
“Where is she?”
Thomas shrugs like it’s of no concern. “Probably your place.”
“I…” All I can think of is Evelyn alone and hurting.
Flora’s face is a mask, for once her emotion concealed behind the blank canvas. She shrugs. No words, just a simple rise and fall of her shoulders.
She doesn’t say a word as I walk out the door, still holding Cappie’s leash.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Flora
“Dean?”
He left. He walked out the door to go to her.
I should have known it was too good to be true. I should have known Dean still loved her.
How can I compete?
I start to crumple; my stomach clenches, my shoulders hunch forward to protect my heart. I’m going to slip behind the desk and curl up on the floor.
But Thomas is still here.
He squeezes my hand, oblivious to my internal anguish. “I’m sure he’ll find her. And it’s a good thing. Evelyn was worried that he wouldn’t be able to get over her. Now he doesn’t have to. They can be happy together.”
“Happy?” I jerk my hand from Thomas’ clinging fingers. “Together?”
“He’ll give her a second chance, just like I’m prepared to do with you. I know you don’t think you can marry me, Flora, but we were so good together. You need to give it another try.”
Without another glance at Thomas, I push away from the counter, running for the door. My heart sinks faster than the wheels of the Jeep pulling out of the parking lot. As I pull open the door, I see him cut off another car, hear the annoyed honk.
He’s really left.
“What are you doing?” Thomas says, irritation creeping into his voice. “He’ll be fine. He’ll be happy with her.”
“No, he won’t,” I say sadly. “He’d be happy with me.” The door tinkles merrily as it closes behind me. I drift ghostlike back behind the counter.
“What are you talking about?”
“He took my dog.”
An expression of grim determination crosses Thomas’ face. “He doesn’t matter. Neither of them do. Just us. What do you say, Flora? Another try?”
“Nothing has changed for me.” How can it be possible to hurt so much? To have gone from such happiness to this?
“But I have,” Thomas insists.
“Did you cheat on her?” I’m not sure what makes me ask. I don’t expect Thomas to answer, and he doesn’t have to; the slight drop of his eyes speaks volumes. “Yeah. No. Go home, Thomas. Go back to Evelyn, or be by yourself for a while. I think that might be good for you. But you’re not coming back to me.”
“Flora, you don’t mean that.” He grabs my arm, but I shrug free of his grasp.
“I really do mean it. And in some way, I’m glad you came because now I know for sure that it’s over. I’m not the same person I was and I don’t think you’d want me.”
“Flora…”
“Did you ever cheat on me?” It’s something I could never bring myself to ask. Once again, Thomas doesn’t answer. “Oh, my god! Who?”
“Flora, it didn’t mean a thing.”
“I’m sure that’s what you said about me at the beginning.”
“That’s not true. You meant everything to me, Flora.”
“Stop saying my name!” If it’s not Dean saying it, I don’t want to hear it. “I never meant enough to you. And you know what’s really sad? I didn’t mean enough to myself, either. If I loved myself more, I never would have put up with eight years of your lies and excuses. So, no, Thomas, I will not be giving you a second chance. I think it’s more like a third or fourth chance actually. Nope. Not going to happen. Thanks for coming by, but that’s it. That. Is. It.”
I stand stone-faced, as Thomas continues to plead his case, until finally he realizes I’m not going to change my mind. As he walks out of the shop, I have a flicker of what might be sadness or regret, but it’s eclipsed by pride.
That, and the pain of my broken heart.
<
br /> Thomas may have been out of my life, but he’s made sure Dean was gone too.
Dean
I drive to the house in record time, hardly breathing until I see her in front of me. “Dean?” Evelyn says, standing in the doorway of the house we shared.
I look down at her, the precise part showing the white of her scalp against the jet-black of her hair. I don’t know when the breakup had happened, but her makeup is still impeccable, her button-down shirt freshly ironed, like nothing is out of sorts.
Not surprising; Evelyn’s iron has always been a security blanket for her. She irons everything, even pillowcases. The bed always looked like a picture in a décor magazine, with crisp, clean sheets tucked neatly at the corners.
I flash back to the rumpled mess that is Flora’s bed, the duvet half on the floor, sheets untucked from the bottom of the bed.
Flora had slept curled into me all night.
I push away thoughts of Flora. Evelyn had picked me up when I’d been broken. I have to do the same for her.
“Whose dog is that?” Her voice snaps with annoyance. No trace of uncertainty or vulnerability, only annoyance.
For two years, I cringed whenever Evelyn used that tone. But today I square my shoulders. “A friend’s.”
“It’s not coming in this house. You know I don’t like dogs.”
“I came to see if you’re all right.”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
Maybe running out of Flora’s shop wasn’t the best move.
Thomas had stood there, dressed so smartly in his jeans and nicely ironed shirt. My first thought had been of Evelyn, upset and heart-broken.
Now I can see she doesn’t need my help.
My heart stops as I realize I’ve let Thomas get his hands on Flora without a word, without a fight. I take a step backwards. “I heard about Thomas and I wanted to check in with you, but you seem fine. I’ve got to go.”
“But I thought…” In an instant, Evelyn’s expression shows her pain, how vulnerable she is. If I’d turned my head, I would have missed it. But now…
