Page 4 of Blooming for His Omega

Although I protested that he did not need to give me the flowers, I really liked them, and this was a particularly lovely bunch of daisies and roses, a happy bouquet. I dumped out the old arrangement in the waste basket and rinsed out the vase. I trimmed the stems and settled the new flowers in fresh water then carried it to the front counter.

I set to work putting the boards together for Camila who was due back before long. Because of the nature of her event, charcuterie’s informality did not seem completely appropriate, but I had some very pretty nearly black boards and laid out the meats and cheeses and everything else in more formal fashion. I was very pleased with the results and hoped my customer and her wife would be as well.

The bell above the door rang, and I glanced up from setting the small bowl of almonds in place. “Oh, Camila, just in time. I only need to wrap these up, but would you like a peek first?”

“Yes, please.” She approached the counter and stopped in front of the vase. “How pretty.” She buried her nose in a lush bloom. “Oh, and the roses smell so nice. A lot of times when I’ve bought them, they have no smell at all.”

“These are from Bloom, next door. The place I told you about?”

She clapped a hand over her mouth. “I was going to stop by there, wasn’t I?”

I showed her the boards and asked if there was anything else she’d like to add, but her squee told me I’d hit the right notes for her event. “All right. Let me wrap these. I just need a couple of minutes.”

She reached up and stroked one of the rose petals. “I think while you do that, I’ll pop next door and get some flowers. If that’s all right?”

“More than.”

Camila left, and I carried the boards over to the mounted industrial roll of wrap and pulled out a long swath. It would not only keep everything from drying out but keep it in place until Camila served it all to her mate’s coworkers. And her boss. It really did feel like a sitcom from the 1960s. If the wife failed in her cocktail party planning, her spouse might lose their job!

Hopefully that would not be the case.

I set the wrapped boards in the white cardboard boxes.

“I’m back.” She beamed. “He’s putting together something for me, so as soon as I get these loaded in the car, I’ll head back and grab it. Would you believe I’m starting to get excited? And I have you to thank.”

“I hope you’ll tell your friends and recommend the shop to them.”

“Absolutely.” She took the boxes and headed for the door. “I’ll be posting on social media and tag the shop.”

She struck me as the type who would have a strong influence there, and while I had a steady stream of business, I could always use more.

After Camila left, my dessert case caught my eye. Maybe my neighbor would like a little dessert. He had a sweet tooth for sure, and I had some things he’d enjoyed in the past. What could it hurt to just take them over?

Feed our mate.

My bear was insistent it was just that simple. Feed him and he’d be ours. I wish I was as sure.

Chapter Five

Cicek

Zion, despite my protests, brought me over some lemon bars and a slice of cherry cheesecake not long after leaving. He claimed with glee that he’d put the flower arrangement on the counter right by the checkout point, and already people were complimenting it.

He hesitated in promoting his own delicious goods but he gave me glowing reviews, and a significant portion of my sales were from word of mouth. From Zion’s mouth specifically.

I told myself I wouldn’t touch the lemon bars or the cheesecake. Instead, I tucked them into my personal fridge in the back and was tempted to throw a lock on the damned thing. I’d been eating so much lately but every time that big teddy bear of a man came in, I gobbled everything up as though I hadn’t eaten in a week.

A customer came in and started looking through the cases. “Something I can help you find?” I asked. Learning what occasions brought people in always entertained me. Some came for apologies, like the lion before, and others had a monthly appointment. I loved to see their faces as they picked out just the right bouquet and had me add balloons for a birthday or a particular flower that their loved one desired.

Baby Showers. Weddings. Mating ceremonies and even funerals. I took care in every custom order.

“Have anything to brighten my grandmother’s day? I’m traveling to see her in the next town over.”

“You’re Quinn, right? The healer?” I walked over and knew exactly the right choice. After all, what grandmother didn’t like pink roses?

“I am. I haven’t seen you before. You’re Cicek.”

I jutted out my hand to shake his already outstretched one. “I am. Nice to officially meet you. I, um, haven’t been sick or pregnant.”

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