Page 10 of Forget Me Knot

“Maybe what you thought was amomentwas really just one friendly neighbor greeting another. Maybe, and forgive me for this, baby girl, he’s just not that into you.”

I throw a piece of pretzel at her, and she picks it right off her blouse and slips it into her mouth. “Don’t be bitter.”

“Don’t be a know-it-all.” Spitting my tongue at her doesn’t make me feel any better, so I sulk down in my seat and spin it once in a circle. “I thought we had a moment, Em. I really did. I’m so embarrassed.”

She stops me mid-spin and takes my hand. “I know you did. I’m sorry. I’ll admit, the man wasfoine.” She brings her fingers to her lips and kisses them before raising them to the sky. “I mean,chef’s kiss, he is just about perfect. However—However…”She always repeats when she wants to emphasize something important, and the simple habit makes me feel a little better inside. There’s nothing a little girl-chat with my big sis can’t fix. “No guy who changes his mind about you overnight is worth the time you’re wastin’ on feelin’ embarrassed. His loss, Dinah Belle. Not yours.”

“You’re right.” I nod and toast her pretzel stick to mine before popping it into my mouth. “Grumpy Kencan kiss it.”

“Yeah, but he can’t kiss you.”

I scoff and act as ifI could never.“Right.”

“Right?” Emory’s eyebrow raises, and I’m saved by the bell as Charlie enters the shop at the absolute perfect time.

“Well hello, hello, you beautiful ladies.” Charlie waves and walks right behind the bar as if she owns the place. She and Emory became quick friends on opening night, and Charlie has taken us all under her Honey Hill wing ever since. I’m sure Emory’s monogrammed gift basket will be hand delivered shortly. “And where is your mini-me, ma’am?”

“School and then a friend’s house. I have another glorious, child-free hour left before pickup.” Emory spins once in herchair, giving her feet a playful kick. When she rights herself, it’s as if she realizes shelet goin front of an almost stranger, so she straightens her hair and shirt a bit, an embarrassed blush flooding her cheeks.

“Well, spill, y’all.” Charlie swipes a piece of pretzel from the plate we’ve been eating off of and dips it in the cheese sauce without preamble. “What’s the hot gossip? What’s the tea? I’ve got two sons in my life who refuse to date or give me grandbabies, and the granny clock is a-tickin’. Make it juicy!”

Emory covers a giggle, and I just know she’s aching to share my lack of love life with this woman. I give her thedon’t you dareface she should be well acquainted with by now, but she all but bursts with the information. “Dinah had a run in with the flower guy!”

They both turn to me.

“Jack?” Charlie asks, pausing with a pretzel to her lips.

I shrug, but my mind grasps onto his name.Jack? Jack the flower man. Jack the rude, but beautiful flower man.

“He brought her roses the other night, but—”

Charlie looks as if she’s experiencing a minute of disbelief but interrupts my sister’s overshare. “Jackson brought you roses? I saw you all at the opening together. If ya ask me, he looked sweet on you.”

I hate the way those words draw warmth to my chest. I think Jack is a stinker. The male equivalent of the wordmoist. I do not care that it appeared as if he might be interested in me.

At. All.

“Yeah, well, Jackson was a supreme jerk to her the next day, so we were just discussing how Dinah won’t be wasting her time on him.”

Charlie shakes her head and says through a mouthful of pretzel, “I say give the boy another go. Maybe he just had a bad day.”

“Maybe…” I try not to be too hopeful. Whether I’d admit it or not to Charlie, my pride took a nice plummet over the past few days. I haven’t seen Jack, if that’s what his name is, since our interaction on the street, and I don’t know how I’ll react when I do.

Because my luck is what it is, I don’t have to wait long to plan my course of action. The man in question waltzes through the door before I can get a word in edgewise. He’s clean-shaven today. Hair tidier than the last time I saw him and button down neatly tucked into dark khakis, the man has the gall to lightly whistle as he approaches the group of women quietly judging him.

“Dinah Belle,” he says, devious smirk and far too charming for his own good. “I could not wait to get back here to you and those Cinnamon Twists.”

He dips his head at Charlie and Emory, but only has eyes for me. My sister audibly scoffs, shaking her head andtut tut tuttinglike a disapproving mother.

But I put up my palm to calm her. Because if my sister has taught me anything, it’s how to be a strong woman, and I will not let this man play head games with me. Even if he does look like he moonlights as a J. Crew model.

“Jackson,” Charlie greets him pointedly, hobbling off her seat and pulling him down to her level by his shirt front. “You’ve got a lotta explainin’ to do, boy.”

His eyes grow twice their size, and I decide I’ll make Charlie a nice little basket of Chocolate Pretzel Bites in thanks.

Charlie nudges my sister. “Why don’t we give these two a few minutes to chat, Emory.” She heads for the door that leads to my loft. “I’d love to see what Dinah has done with the apartment upstairs.”

Emory waits for me to give her the okay, and when I nod, she sighs but leads Charlie out of the shop and up to my small apartment.

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