Page 23 of A Sudden Romance

“Oh no. I’m so sorry I ruined your flowers. I had my purse—”

“It’s fine.”

“Were you supposed to drop these off—?”

“They were your flowers.” He needed to be honest with her now. After today, he couldn’t let her assume he’d bought flowers for some other woman. “I brought them to the airport yesterday, but then I thought you may not like them.” Not exactly the whole truth. So much for being honest. But it was a start, wasn’t it?

Light flashed from her phone, and she aimed it at the flowers. “Sabastian”—wonder dipped her voice to a low caress—“I love tulips.”

I know.

“You must have paid a lot to get these off-season.”

They were one of the most expensive bouquets at the florist, but money didn’t seem to matter if he had to buy something for her. Even if it somehow mattered if he was going to be her suitor.

“I don’t mind buying you flowers.” She was worth every penny.

After thanking him several times as if he’d given her the world, she asked about his life in Denver. He glanced at the console as he turned on the interstate. Hmm, five forty.

He twisted his grip on the steering wheel. “I was three when Mom died. Dad was a chef in Greece, but we were very poor. He wanted a fresh start when we moved to America. I don’t remember anything before we arrived. I barely remember what Mom looked like.” He’d lost all the family photos when he lost Dad. He loosened his grip since his knuckles had turned white beneath the pressure of his hold. “He started a Greek restaurant, and I was about twelve when the restaurant caught on fire.”

His chest constricted, and he struggled to catch his breath.

Iris turned off the radio. A comforting hand touched his shoulder before she moved it in gentle circles on his tense muscles.

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” she whispered, her voice shaken. “Maybe you should pull over to the roadside and let me drive.”

“I’m fine...” Though he’d had years to get used to it, the searing pain of loss lingered.

“Unfortunately, I was in school when the restaurant caught on fire, the same building where Dad and I lived upstairs. That’s how I ended up in one group home after another.” Never lucky to be adopted like her siblings. “At seventeen, I got kicked out and had to fend for myself.”

Not that he’d done a good job of it, pushing his way into homeless shelters whenever he got lucky and they had availability. Walking each day with his belongings on his back as he looked for work. Losing hope bit by bit. Giving up more and more. He’d graduated high school right before he turned eighteen, but having no address to put on a job application always set him into a category of irresponsibility.

“Eric ran into you at one of his shelters?”

“Yes. He had an event for teens and young adults.” He’d asked each of them to write their goals and aspirations before the meeting. “We each had to stand up and talk about it.”

Eric rescued more people that night, especially those who followed through and presented their plan. “That night, he told me he was paying for my hotel until I got an apartment. He got me a counselor who helped me with my college application to culinary school in Denver Metro State.”

Sabastian let out a deep breath, the rush of memories fading with the exhalation. “Long story short, your brother changed my life. I asked him why he was helping me and others like me. He said it was because, if God hadn’t put him in a family, he, too, would be homeless. He wanted to extend that joy of belonging and love of God to everyone God put in his path.”

“Eric is amazing.”

“So are you.” Great, why did those words just have to fly out unfiltered? “I mean... I hope...” He hunched forward and gripped the steering wheel, having no idea what he was even saying.

“You’re amazing too, Sabastian.”

He almost swallowed his tongue. Did she know how long he’d waited for her to be this close to him? Let alone give him a compliment that had nothing to do with his food?

“You made Alba’s day.”

And Iris made his day.

If he never got another compliment in his whole life, he’d be fine. “Thanks for coming with me.”

“You left me no choice when you said you had a stop to make.” Humor carried in her tone.

“I don’t remember putting you in the car against your will.” Which would be fun if it was just a joke and he had to carry her as her hair brushed against his cheek. He’d never tire of smelling her conditioner, though he’d never actually do anything against her will.

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