Page 24 of Rescued By My Small Town Billionaire

All the proceeds from the event will go toward the grand reopening, and hopefully, it will be enough to get the word out about it too.

I exhale, nodding. “Alright. Let’s do this.”

I barely see Becky.

And that’s a problem.

The hardest part about all of this?

Staying away from Becky for three days. I wouldn’t be able to hide what I’m up to, and I don’t want to ruin the surprise for her.

She’s already noticing the distance, the way I’ve been working late, running “errands,” avoiding our usual slow mornings together.

Last night, she gave me a look—half confusion, half worry—when I cut our conversation short, saying I had to take care of something on the ranch.

I hated it.

But the look on her face when she sees what we’ve been planning?

That’s gonna make all of this worth it.

It’s not intentional, but every time I reach for my phone to check in, I stop myself. If I see her, I’ll spill everything. And if I tell her, it won’t be the same. It has to be a surprise.

But I don’t realize how much she’s been noticing the distance—until I catch sight of her one evening across the street from the shop.

She’s talking to Lulu, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, her head nodding in short, clipped movements. Even from a distance, I can tell something’s bothering her.

I step forward, almost ready to go to her, when Pete grabs my arm. “Not yet,” he warns. “We have work to do first.”

I hesitate, glancing back at her, but then I nod. I need to stick to the plan.

Chapter thirteen

Becky

The grand reopening of Flourish Floral is just days away, and I should be focusing on making sure I don’t run out of stock before then. My apartment had been completed first, and that’s when I had moved in.

I toured the rebuilt property. It’s pretty much ready to go.

Connected to the back of the shop by a charming arched doorway, the hot house greenhouse is where I will grow and care for my more exotic and temperamental plants.

The glass walls and ceiling, framed by white-painted wrought iron, allow sunlight to stream in from every angle, making it feel like a hidden garden paradise. Along the back wall, a potting station is set up with clay pots, gardening gloves, and nutrient-rich soil, where I will tend to seedlings and repot plants in need of extra care.

I really like the new fridge room. Tucked behind the main shop floor, a temperature-controlled walk-in floral fridge is where the most delicate flowers will be stored, keeping them fresh for custom orders and special events.

The updated layout will be better than before. I need to think about the reopening.

But all I can think about is Mike.

And how I barely see him anymore.

At first, I didn’t think much of it. He’s been recovering, dealing with the ranch, still helping out at the fire station. But then he started dodging my calls, and every time I asked Lulu if she’d seen him, she got weirdly quiet.

Something is off.

The worst part is, I haven’t even had a chance to tell him how I feel.

I pace around the shop, running my fingers over the smooth petals of a fresh bouquet of peonies. The shop is coming together beautifully, but I can’t enjoy it when I have this gnawing doubt in my chest.

---