Page 28 of The Bear's Blooming Mate

Steady. Present. Solid in a way that made her ache with something she didn’t quite dare name.

Pushing aside thoughts of Philip, which was almost impossible, she switched her focus to her plans for the Old Larson place… She gave a small shake of her head. Her plans for Rose Farm.

The visit to the garden center had been just what she needed. The abundant blooms that had been carefully nurtured by Alfie had given her new ideas and inspiration. If she’d learned one thing since she decided to open her own flower farm, it was that her plans were constantly in flux.

But then that was one lesson life had taught her again and again. Nothing stayed the same, nothing was ever permanent or set in stone. All you could do was bend like a tree in the wind and not break.

“Here we are,” Philip said as he pulled into the drive and cut the engine. For a moment, neither of them moved.

Elsbeth shifted, unbuckling her seatbelt, suddenly unsure of what came next.

“Thanks for today,” she said finally, her voice a little rough with emotion. “I didn’t realize how much I needed...” She trailed off, her cheeks flushing pink.

Philip smiled. The kind of smile that felt like sunlight cracking through cloud cover.

“I know how easy it is to get caught up in work,” he said simply. “Sometimes you just have to stop…” He paused and cracked a grin. “And smell the roses.”

“Are you trying to compete with Alfie?” Elsbeth asked.

“No one can compete with Alfie.” Philip reached for the door and cracked it open.

Elsbeth’s stomach did a small flip as Philip stepped out of the truck. She’d expected him to leave after dropping her off, but instead, he circled around to her side and opened her door, extending his hand.

“Let me help you,” he said, his deep voice sending a thrill through her.

But it was nothing like the thrill that consumed her as they touched. There was that same sense of connection, that same sense of familiarity.

“Thank you.” She didn’t need help getting out of the truck, but there was something so courteous, so old-fashioned about the gesture that she could not refuse.

Together they walked toward the house, their footsteps crunching in unison on the weed-filled gravel path. The silence between them felt charged, like the air before a thunderstorm.

“Thank you again for today,” she said when they reached her porch, turning to face him. “For everything.”

“You’re welcome,” he replied, his eyes meeting hers.

He lifted his hand, and Elsbeth’s breath caught. She closed her eyes instinctively, heart hammering against her ribs as she waited for the touch of his fingers against her cheek.

Instead, she felt a gentle tug at her hair.

“A petal,” he murmured.

Elsbeth opened her eyes, feeling a little foolish for having expected something else.

“A rose petal,” she said softly, recognizing it from her earlier explorations at the garden center.

Philip smiled and reached for her hand. That same unmistakable connection sparked between them as he gently uncurled her fingers and placed the rose petal in her palm, the feather-light touch sending shivers cascading through her body.

“For remembrance,” he said, giving a sheepish grin. “At least, I hope it will remind you of me.”

“It will,” she whispered, closing her fingers around it. How could she tell him that today had been one of the best days of her life?

It would sound so absurd, since today had been a normal day in so many ways. And yet it had been so special. Finding the spring, the visit to the garden center, coffee and cake…all because he had been there by her side.

Drawn to him, Elsbeth leaned forward slightly, her gaze dropping to his lips, wishing...

But Philip suddenly stepped back, breaking the spell. He turned abruptly and strode toward his truck. Elsbeth’s heart sank, confusion and embarrassment washing over her. Had she done something wrong? Been too forward? Too obvious?

Her cheeks burned as she watched him, mortified at the thought that she might have misread everything. What a fool she was!

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