Page 92 of 1001 Dark Nights: Bundle Forty-Seven

The late-night dinners with his friends seemed tarnished and not as shiny or as fun. Many of them complained about the same things--their crappy hours, their toys, and work. The relationships they were in never lasted.

Jameson headed to work and thought of the beach. The flower shop. His cousin. And Bear. He thought about that vacant space and the phone number still held in his phone.

The evening went south pretty quickly. The chef overcooked the special and customer complaints flowed in. The new guy refused to defend the chef or the current staff, instead kissing ass to the customer and turning his back on his own. Jameson brought him aside to reign him in but was met with hot-tempered insults.

“That’s it. You’re not going to work out here. You’re done,” Jameson said.

Brent sneered. “You can’t fire me, asshole. I’m Jacques’s nephew.”

Jameson stared back, shocked. He’d never been told there was a connection there. What was going on?

Brent seemed to catch on to his ignorance and gave a mocking laugh. “You don’t get it, huh? I’m going to be your boss soon. So, it may help to start working with me rather than against me, or maybe it’s you who’s gonna be looking for another job.”

Then with a nasty grin, he left.

When Jameson got home that night, stressed, overworked, and exhausted, he looked up the number. He muttered a curse and rolled up his shirt sleeves. What the hell was he doing? Blowing up his life because of one bad night? Or running to a better one?

His gaze caught on the inked rose, reminding him of Devon.

He blinked.Devon. Not the grief over losing his mom. Not the empty hole inside of him or the reminder of love lost. Just Devon’s beautiful, kind face and the joy she brought.

His brain exploded with an image of his mom standing by Devon, smiling, enclosing her into a hug in full approval. The tattoo burned around his wrist in foreboding. What if he’d gotten this ink years ago for his future soul-mate? His very own flower girl.

What if his mother had led him directly to her?

Jameson closed his eyes and everything settled inside him. He knew exactly what he needed to do.

He called the number.

* * * *

Devon finished her final bouquet and flexed her cramped fingers. God, she loved and hated Valentine’s Day. It was the most profitable day for her shop, but it was a bitch to handle. Endless parties and nonstop restaurant orders poured in. She hired an extra driver for the week to deal with the rush. Glancing at her phone, she tried to tamp down her disappointment that Jameson hadn’t called.

It had been one month since he’d left. They managed to see each other twice in rushed visits. Jameson had no time off after taking leave, so he worked mostly seven days a week. The one day he’d managed to get shift coverage, he’d driven to Cape May so he could spend the night.

She thought of the weekend she’d gone to New York. It was wonderful to be in his environment and see the fancy restaurant he managed. She loved walking the streets hand in hand and spending the night in his arms. But he had little time to give, and seemed stressed out.

Devon tried not to worry. After all, this was new to them both, and Jameson was overwhelmed with his job. She was positive they could find a balance in the future. Still, this was the second time he’d missed their phone date and it was Valentine’s Day. She just…missed him.

Blowing out a breath, she finished up and cleared the table. The emptiness of the shop made her ache. Bear was missed daily, but she knew the training was important for him. He deserved the best home. It just happened not to be hers.

Feeling a touch of self-pity, she went upstairs and poured herself a deserved glass of wine. Maybe she’d watch a movie tonight. No romcoms. Something with guns and violence and action to distract her.

Devon groaned at the knock on her door. Muttering under her breath, she peeked out the window.

Jameson stood at the door with dozens of roses.

She gasped and flung the door open. “What are you doing?”

“Not missing Valentine’s Day, of course.”

She blinked back sudden tears and bit down on her lip to steady herself. “What about work?”

“Don’t care. I missed you, sweetheart.”

She jumped into his arms, crushing the flowers, and his mouth met hers with hunger and fire and want. Devon melted into the embrace, frantic to get as close to him as possible. He backed her up, kicked the door shut, and they made out in her hallway until they were breathless.

When he finally broke the kiss, her entire body throbbed with arousal. “I can’t believe you drove all the way here just forValentine’s Day,” she murmured, gathering up the blooms with care.

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