Page 5 of A Heart in Bloom

Cammie blinked, her mind scrambling to place him. He seemed so familiar. “That’s me,” she managed, her voice steady despite her surprise. “And you are...?”

The man strode forward, closing the distance between them. “Allen Calhoun. I’m the foreman of the construction crew working on renovations around town. Zach asked me to stop by and go over the layout with you.” He extended a hand, his grip firm but not overpowering. “I hear you have big plans and a short…” His words trailed off as recognition flickered in his eyes.The woman from the café.

Cammie’s stomach dropped as the connection clicked for her, too.This cannot be happening.The first man in years—no, in her entire adult life—to stir something deep inside her, and he was her contractor?

What had she done to deserve this? First Judson. Then Hunter. And now, just when she thought she might finally pick up the pieces of her shattered life without complications or distractions, this man—this walking L.L. Bean ad—had to show up. She wanted to scream.Why now? Why him?

Forcing herself to move, she stepped around him, putting some space between them. Glancing around the room, she forced a small smile, even as awareness buzzed under her skin. “Big plans might be an overstatement. I have no idea how to make this work.”

Allen tilted his head, his stunning blue eyes catching the light. “Well, lucky for you, making things work is kind of my specialty. Mind if I take a look around?”

“Go ahead,” Cammie said, stepping aside as he moved further into the space, his boots thudding softly against the floorboards.

Allen carried himself with quiet confidence, his movements deliberate as he examined the ceiling and walls. His fingers brushed almost reverently along the wood of the bay windows, as if he could read the history etched into its grain. Pulling a measuring tape from his belt, he began jotting notes onto a small notepad with practiced ease.

Cammie watched him for a moment, noticing the easy way he moved through the space, as if he belonged in a place like this—a fixer of forgotten things.

“So, florist shop, right?” Allen asked, glancing over his shoulder.

Cammie nodded. “With a moderate gift selection and a small stationery section. I have a shop about two-thirds this size in Glacier Ridge. Well, Idid...” Her voice trailed off, the memory of Hunter’s arrogant smirk twisting her stomach. He’d taken more than her space—he’d stolen her sense of security.

Allen straightened, his eyes softening as he caught the flicker of hurt in hers. “Until someone decided to make it difficult to stay?”

Cammie crossed her arms, nodding. “Something like that.”

He leaned a shoulder against the whitewashed brick wall, notepad in hand. “Hickory Falls isn’t like Glacier Ridge. People here look out for each other. It’s not perfect, but we see more than businesses. We see the people behind them. We believe in this place and will do everything in our power to help you be successful.”

Cammie studied him, unsure how to respond. There was an earnestness to his words that she wanted to believe, butexperience had taught her caution. “It’s a nice idea,” she said carefully.

Allen’s gentle smile was genuine. “It’s more than just ideas. You’ll see.”

A sudden shiver sent goosebumps racing down Cammie’s arms. She hugged herself, trying to fend off the cold. “Not to interrupt your motivational speech, but do you have any clues for the secret to turning on the heat in this place? Or should I just start a fire in the middle of the room?”

Allen chuckled. “It’s not that rustic. The A/C and heating were updated last year. Thermostat’s over here.” He crossed to a panel on the wall and pressed a button. A low hum vibrated through the space as the smell of burning dust filled the air.

“Wait. You knew this whole time? How long would you have let me freeze?” she said, her tone dripping with mock outrage.

“Didn’t seem like my place to mention it,” Allen said, his expression deadpan. “Maybe you wanted to save money if you weren’t planning to stay long. Plus, Gramps always said a little cold builds character.”

“Character? Try frostbite,” she shot back, rubbing her numb hands together. Relief softened her tone as the first hints of warmth tickled the air. “Thank you for showing me. At least now I’m less likely to be found frozen solid when your crew arrives.”

“Glad to be of service,” Allen replied with a smirk. “Anything else you need me to tackle? Or should I save some of my superpowers for next time?”

“Next time is fine,” Cammie quipped, flipping her hair over her shoulder with exaggerated flair. “I’d hate for Super Allen to strain himself. Pushing buttons can be so strenuous, after all.”

Allen watched her walk away, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He had enjoyed that little bit of banter—more than he cared to admit.

For the next two hours, they explored the shop and loft together. Allen took meticulous notes, his practicality and creativity blending seamlessly as he offered suggestions. His dry humor kept Cammie from spiraling into doubts about whether she’d bitten off more than she could chew.

By the time he packed up his fancy laser scanner, she felt a glimmer of something she hadn’t allowed herself to feel in years: anticipation. In just one morning, Allen had wiped away her fears and made her see this for the opportunity it was. She got to start fresh in a new space that she could design to meet her needs and reflect her vision of the perfect shop and home.

He spoke about traffic patterns, flow, and focal points so naturally that it was as if he’d gone to design school. Dora would have been impressed by his expertise, but it wasn’t just his extensive knowledge that unsettled Cammie. It was the man himself. His quiet self-assurance, striking features, and the effortless way he carried himself hinted at how capable he was—and made him feel like... too much.

The total package—and the last thing she needed.

If only he’d disappear before he complicated her life any further.

“Well, I’ve got what I need,” Allen said, zipping his black bag closed and rising to his full height. “I’ll draft the designs and send them your way in a couple of days. Once you approve them, we’ll get started. What’s your timeline again?”

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