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“Well, you don’t appear to be busy right this second,” she said cheerfully. “So let’s make this deal now and I’ll get out of your hair. Unless you drive the delivery truck, you’ll never have to deal directly with me again.”
His jaw hardened. “There’s not going to be any deal, Bree. Not between us.”
She leveled a look directly into his eyes. “This is business, Jake. I’m not asking you to go out with me or to trust me or to have any kind of personal contact beyond whatever it takes to get this agreement on paper. It’s simple. I’m opening a flower shop. You sell flowers. It’s pretty cut-and-dried.”
“Nothing with us was ever simple or cut-and-dried,” he said, walking slowly around his desk to perch on the edge. Their knees were almost touching, hers bare, his clad in faded denim. “It’s bound to get complicated faster than the ink will dry on our agreement.”
She swallowed hard, but managed to keep her voice steady. “How so?”
He leaned forward, oh so slowly, until her pulse fluttered wildly at the nearness of his mouth. It hovered over hers. Their breath intermingled. Suddenly she wanted his lips on hers with an urgency that took her by surprise. Memories of a hundred other kisses—deep, tantalizing, soul-stirring kisses—swarmed in her head and left her dizzy. What had made her think for a single second that this kind of sizzle could be doused by simple determination?
As if he sensed her turmoil, he drew back, his expression smug. “See what I mean?”
Oh yeah, this definitely had complication written all over it. But she couldn’t let that stand in her way. She wouldn’t. Flowers on Main was going to be her fresh start. She’d do whatever it took to make it a success.
Jake had obviously made a success of his business. She’d been astonished by the size of the nursery, a little awed by everything she’d heard when she’d asked around about the best flower supplier in the region. Seeing it today with its greenhouse, outdoor displays of flats and flats of colorful plants, rows of flowering shrubs and trees, had been an eye-opener. This wasn’t the tiny Shores Nursery of old. Jake had expanded it beyond her wildest expectations. Given what he’d accomplished, surely he could understand why her new business mattered just as much to her.
“I need these flowers, Jake,” she said simply.
“Get them from someone else. There are other growers.”
“Everyone says you’re the best. And you’re the closest.”
“I’m also unavailable.”
“Are you speaking personally now, or professionally?”
He frowned at her flip attempt at humor. “Both, just to keep the record straight.”
“That kiss that almost happened said otherwise.”
“It didn’t happen, did it?”
“All that proves is that you’ve got great willpower. I’m duly impressed. In fact, a man with that much willpower surely won’t be tempted to ravish me just because I get a few posies from him every few days, so there’s really no reason not to deal with me, is there?”
“How about I don’t want to? Do you have an argument for that?”
“Because you’re scared,” she accused.
“Of you? Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Prove it.”
His eyes widened. “You’re making this a challenge?”
“Why not?” she asked with a careless shrug. “Let’s see if you’ve got what it takes to stay away from me, Jake. Make this deal. Deliver the flowers personally. And keep your hands to yourself. That will suit me just fine. I can prove I only care about business, and you can prove you’re over me. Sounds like a win-win to me.”
She saw him struggle with himself. He clearly wanted to show her that she no longer meant anything to him, that he was well and truly done with her. But he also knew he didn’t stand a chance of making good on it. Whatever there’d once been between them, it was still there. The air was practically humming with it.
And, based on the obvious inner struggle he was waging,
it apparently still had the power to rip his heart out for a second time. No wonder he wanted to stay as far away from her as humanly possible. She could hardly blame him. She was more than a little shaken at the moment herself. She was supposed to be mourning the end of her relationship with Marty, not stirring up old feelings with Jake.
“Okay,” he said at last. He moved behind the desk, shoved a few stacks of catalogs and papers aside, shuffled through another one and then handed her a form. “Fill out this credit application. Drop it off with Connie in the morning. I’ll waive the payable on delivery clause that’s standard for new customers for the first year. We’ll bill you every thirty days.”
“Don’t do me any favors,” she said.
“I’m not. I know your credit will check out. That’s all I care about. When are you opening?”
He was all business now, which should have made her ecstatic, but she couldn’t help being a little bit annoyed. She had to force herself to match his cool tone. “The first Saturday in September, in time for the Labor Day–weekend crowds.”
“I’ll see that you get your first delivery before nine o’clock that Friday morning. I’ll need to know what you want on the Monday before, earlier if there’s something that has to come from another grower. Connie will see that you have a list each week of what’s available. If you need deliveries more than once a week, we’ll adjust the schedule. Or you can come by here to get what you need to fill in.”
“Thank you.”
“Like you said, it’s business. Don’t read anything into it. Close the door on your way out.”
She frowned at the dismissal, but she knew better than to try to prolong the encounter. She’d gotten what she came for.
And then some.
Jake cursed when his hand actually shook as he reached for his phone after Bree was finally out of his office. He’d been dead serious earlier when he’d decided to drink his dinner, but he wanted company. A man who could still be rattled by an ex-lover six years after the breakup was pitiful enough without turning into a solitary drinker.
If he’d ever been the type to gravitate toward willing female companionship of the kind that didn’t ask questions or make demands, tonight would have been the night to seek out such a woman. Unfortunately, he’d never seen the value in simply hooking up. He’d always wanted more. He’d wanted what he’d had with Bree. Or what he’d thought he had, anyway.
That left him with Will and Mack. And when Mack turned out to be busy, it left him with Will.
“Ground rules,” he said tersely when they met in the bar at Brady’s. “No questions. No trying to psychoanalyze my mood. We are here to drink. Okay?”
Will gave him a knowing look. “You must have had one hell of a meeting with Bree today.”
Jake scowled at him. “No questions. Didn’t I make that clear?”
Will grinned. “You did. And if Ms. Davis, our English teacher, were here, she’d explain to you that the sentence I just uttered was a statement, not a question. Bree O’Brien is the only person I know who can put you into this kind of mood.”
Jake downed half his beer. “Okay, wise guy, I know I told you not to try to psychoanalyze my mood. I was very clear about that.”
“But this is so much fun,” Will retorted. “Your love life is much more interesting than watching the Orioles blow another lead, which they’re doing, by the way.” He gestured toward the TV above the bar, his expression mournful. “How can they do that night after night?”
“Because they’re having a lousy season,” Jake said, warming to the safe topic. “The pitching sucks. The bullpen’s worse.”
“Can’t argue with you there,” Will agreed just as Mack joined them.
Jake stared at him. “I thought you had a date.”
“It wasn’t a date,” Mack said, his expression sour.
“Which means he was out with Susie O’Brien again,” Will said.
Mack scowled at the assessment, but Jake chuckled. “Don’t mind him. Will thinks he has a deep understanding of our sad love lives. Of course, that raises the question of why he doesn’t have a love life of his own to worry about.”
“I had a date just last night,” Will said indignantly. “A real one, not like whatever’s going on between you two and the women you maybe are and maybe aren’t dating.”
Mack’s expression brightened. “Do tell,” he said. “Give us a shining example by which we can live our lives.”
Will frowned. “Mock me if you will, but this could be the one. This was our fourth date in two weeks.”
Jake and Mack exchanged a look. Will rarely went out with the same woman more than twice. Either he got bored or they got tired of having him analyze them. In one instance, when he’d gone out for two months with the same woman, he’d belatedly realized she’d actually been using him for free counseling. He’d sworn off dating for months after that.
Just as Mack was about to speak, Will stopped him. “Don’t worry. This isn’t another Jasmine. In fact, Laura’s a psychologist, too. She has a practice in Annapolis. She just bought a weekend place here.”
“And this is the first we’ve heard about her?” Jake chided.
“Are we not your best friends? Aren’t you supposed to run something this serious past us?”
“No,” Will said succinctly. “You’re my best friends, but you don’t have veto power over the women in my life.”
“I’ll remind you of that next time you try to exercise your veto power over the women in mine,” Mack grumbled.
“I’d never veto Susie,” Will told him.
“I’m not dating Susie,” Mack repeated.
Jake nudged Will in the ribs. “Protesting too much, wouldn’t you say?”
“I would,” Will agreed, clinking his beer bottle to Jake’s.
Mack looked as if he might want to crack his beer bottle over one of their heads, but instead, he took a long drink, then regarded Jake innocently.
“So why are we here? Does this have something to do with Bree?”
“I’m guessing yes,” Will said. “Jake’s not talking, though.”
“Because there’s nothing to say,” Jake insisted.
Because they’d each ruled out further discussion of the women in their lives, they fell silent. Sipping their beers, they turned their attention to the game just in time to see the relief pitcher walk in the other team’s winning run.
“Orioles suck,” Mack said.
Will nodded.
“You got that right,” Jake said, then sighed. It pretty well described the way his whole day had gone.
The smell of freshly cut wood filled the air inside what would soon be Flowers on Main. Bree stood back and admired the stainless steel–topped island that would be her primary work space in the backroom. It had nooks and crannies and drawers for storing vases, boxes, ribbons, wire, florist tape and anything else she might need to create spectacular arrangements.
“What do you think?” Mick asked, standing beside her. “Is it what you had in mind?”
She turned and threw her arms around him. “It’s perfect, Dad. Thank you so much. I can’t believe you were able to create that from the scribbles I gave you.”
He laughed. “Believe me, it wasn’t the scribbles. It was the way you described what you needed for it to be functional. Running over to Ted Jensen’s place one morning helped, too. I figured after all the years he’s been in business, he’d know what you’d need.”
“Since he’s closing down, I probably should have bought his furnishings instead of having you go to all this trouble,” Bree said.
“Absolutely not,” Mick countered. “You’re starting out fresh. Everything should be top-notch. I did make an offer on his coolers, though. Told him I’d need to run that by you, but they’re in good condition and it’ll save you some start-up money.”
Bree bristled that he’d done such a thing without asking her, then realized she was being silly. He’d left the final decision to her, after all. If Mick had made a contact that could save her money, she needed to consider it. “I’ll go and take a look later today,” she promised.
“Okay, then, let’s take another look at this floor plan,” Mick said. “I want you to show me again where you think the front counter ought to be.”
They started into the front room just as the door opened and Megan stepped inside. Bree wasn’t sure which of them was more shocked, her or her father.
“Megan!” Mick said, his face lighting up. “I wasn’t expecting you. Bree, honey, did you know your mother was coming?”
“No,” she said tersely, watching as Mick crossed the room and pressed a kiss to her mother’s cheek.
“How could I stay away when I heard about your new business, Bree?” Megan said, giving Mick a pointed look that Bree couldn’t quite interpret.
“Well, I’d stay and show you around,” Bree said, “but as you can tell, there’s not much to see and I have to drive over to Myrtle Creek.”
She was almost out the door, when she realized Megan was on her heels.
“Why don’t I ride along with you,” Megan said, her expression suggesting she wasn’t about to take no for an answer.
Bree gritted her teeth. “Up to you,” she said and went to her car. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather get settled after your trip down from New York? You’ll be staying at the inn again, right?”
“I’m thinking about staying at the house, but I need to discuss that with your father first,” her mother replied. “You don’t have any objections, do you?”
Bree shrugged. “It’s not my house.”
“It is your home,” her mother corrected. “And your opinion does count with me.”
“Then I think you should stay at the inn, assuming Jess has a room available. It’s been very busy. I’ll call her and check.” She pulled her cell phone out of her pocket, flipped it open and dialed.
She ignored the hurt in her mother’s eyes as she waited for her sister to pick up. “Hey, Jess, this is Bree. You’ll never guess who’s here.”
“Mom,” Jess said. “Abby called me about an hour ago and told me she was coming.”
“Do you have a room available at the inn? I can bring her by right now.”
“Sorry. We’re fully booked. I told Abby the same thing. She said Mom could stay with her and the girls.”
“Perfect,” Bree said eagerly. “I’ll tell her. I can run her over there.”
“Not now. Trace is in New York for a few days, so Mom won’t be able to get in until Abby gets home from work.”
Which meant Bree would be stuck with her for the rest of the afternoon. “Wait, doesn’t Gram have a spare key to Abby’s?”
“Of course,” Jess said. “I don’t know why Abby didn’t think of that.”
