Page 35 of The Replacement Fiance

Liam snaps on his helmet. "Can I say one last thing?"

"No."

"Don't be an idiot."

15

Mariah

When the lastof my employees clock out at six, all of them eager to enjoy New Year's Eve festivities, I'm left alone in the shop for the first time since I walked in at four in the morning. I should be out partying—after all, it's New Year's Eve—but after working almost fourteen hours straight setting up flowers for the NYE-themed wedding and reception, all I want to do is go home, take a shower, and greet the new year in my dreams.

At least, even if my love life is in shambles and is nonexistent, I just closed the year with a bang. The NYE-themed wedding was the biggest event my employees and I ever worked on. I even ran out of business cards to hand out, the wedding party and other vendors setting up for the event impressed and curious about my little flower shop. Even a network crew covering the wedding submitted a standing order for Always on a Tuesday Flowers to provide flowers for their offices and if I wasn't exhausted right now, I'd probably stay a bit longer so I can work on flower choices.

The knock on the front door brings me back to the present. I glance at the clock on the wall, knowing that whoever it is and whatever they need, the shop will remain closed. No exceptions. But I peek anyway and my heart skips a beat when the man outside the front door smiles sheepishly.

Logan Garrison will always be an exception... even if our parting wasn't exactly the best.

I unlock the front door and let him in. He's wearing black jeans and a dark t-shirt under a denim shirt, looking gorgeous as ever. As he brushes past me, I catch the scent of a familiar blend and look at him quizzically.

"Spruce and rosewood. Is that from my mom?"

He nods. "Yeah, she gave me soaps and a bottle of insect repellent for Christmas. All organic, of course, and the repellent worked during our ride to Monterey. Even Liam wants one now."

"Yup, that's Mom all right." I close the door and lean against it as I face him, not quite knowing what to do next except that I don't want him to leave yet. "Happy New Year, by the way."

"Happy New Year, Mariah," he says. "I've missed you."

"I've missed you, too."

"I'm sorry about the way things went down between us," he says. "I'm sorry for leaving you up there the way I did. I should have stood by you until the end, as your friend, at least. Instead, I left and that was wrong."

My throat tightens. "You had every reason to leave, Logan. You didn't want to pretend anymore and you were right. I wouldn't have stood by me either, not after everything fell apart the way it did and Cooper arriving–"

"I just wanted us to be real, Mariah, you and me and what we had going," he says. "I wanted it all to be real. You, your family, the love you all shared. I wanted it all even when I knew it was pretend."

I swallow, my mouth suddenly feeling dry. "But not all of it was pretend."

He shakes his head. "No, not for me."

"Not for me either... well, except for the engaged part."

"What happened to the ring?"

"It's in my jewelry box," I reply, glancing down at my hands, bare from any jewelry.

Logan clears his throat.

"Would you like us to be real, Mariah?"

As I look at him, I see the pain in his eyes mingled with a yearning I remember when we were at the Cercis, just before things fell apart. That was when he bared everything to me, the way he really felt. That was when I scuttled back into the safety of my past and the wounds I used as armor.

But I can't do that anymore. I'm done living in the past.

"Yes," I whisper, the rest of my answer translated into the kiss that comes when Logan's lips meet mine, my entire being breathing him in like he's the air I need to survive. My arms circle his neck, the taste of his lips reminding me of the laughter we shared as we sat in front of the Christmas tree with my family just a few days ago, the smell of pine and the feel of snow beneath our boots as we took that first walk around the Soraya… and then that practice kiss that was never a practice kiss at all, not for us.

Logan pulls away and studies my face, his thumb stroking my cheek. "I saw the flowers you left at my mother's grave," he murmurs. "That was really nice of you."

"When you didn't show up, I figured you were probably out of town."

---