Page 6 of Knot in Bloom
“I want to,” I interrupt gently. “I want to help you. I want to be part of whatever you’re building here.”
She nods, her cheeks flushed pink in a way that makes me want to discover what other parts of her body turn that same pretty color when she’s affected.
If Sadie thinks she’s handling this crisis alone, she’s about to find out how stubborn a bookseller can be. And how determined an alpha becomes when he’s found something worth protecting.
Chapter 3
Sadie
Tuesday evening, I told Levi I could handle the rest myself. Which was partly true. Maeve had given me directions to her friend’s farm where I could gather some replacement greenery and late-season wildflowers. But mostly I needed space to think.
I spent the evening driving country roads and cutting branches by headlight, trying not to replay every word he’d said. “I want to take care of you.” The way his voice had gone rough when he promised “later.” How close we’d stood when he said it.
I barely slept Tuesday night.
Wednesday morning, the shop feels different. The floors are dry enough to walk on, though I’ve got every fan I own running to air them out. The damage looks less catastrophic in daylight, manageable even. I’m arranging the wildflowers I gathered when I remember I left my good clippers in the back room.
When I return to the front counter, there’s something that wasn’t there before.
A brand new leatherbound notebook sits beside my cash register. I flip it open and find pressed maple leaves tuckedbetween the pages, along with a small poem in careful handwriting.
The handwriting I recognize immediately. Levi.
The pressed maple leaves are perfect. Absolutely perfect. Golden and crimson and orange in every shade that exists. Like he spent hours sorting through fallen leaves to find exactly the right ones. Each one pristine, carefully preserved between paper with the kind of attention that speaks of someone who understands beauty is worth preserving.
But it’s the poem in his careful handwriting that makes my chest feel tight and warm.
Seven-thirty, every day,Coffee steaming on the tray.But it’s not the brew I bring.It’s your smile that makes me sing.
When you look up from your flowers,that one look could last for hours.Coffee’s just my sweet excuseto see the joy you never lose.
I stare at the words until they blur. Reading them over and over.
This is just Levi being kind, I tell myself firmly. A thoughtful friend helping through a crisis.
Except…
The fact that he spent his evening picking perfect leaves? Writing me a poem? Getting me a new notebook to replace my water-damaged order book? That doesn’t feel like just friendship. That feels like someone who pays attention to what I need. The way I notice when Mrs. Woodbury needs cheerier colors. Or when Pastor Williams requires something simple for difficult funerals.
I trace one of the pressed leaves with my fingertip. Wondering what it means that a quiet bookstore owner is leaving poetry and practical gifts in my shop. Wondering what I’m supposed to do with the warm feeling that spreads through my chest every time he stops by with coffee.
Tomorrow is the rehearsal dinner. The replacement flowers I gathered last night are arranged and ready, and I’ve managed to create something that actually looks intentional rather than desperate. The rustic style might even be better than my original plan.
And all I can think about is the way he looked at me yesterday when he said he wanted to take care of me.
Wondering if maybe…
My door chimes and Caleb Maddox fills the entrance.
Makes my small shop feel even smaller than usual.
It’s been weeks since the berry festival. Since that moment when childhood familiarity shifted into adult awareness and left us staring at each other like we’d never met before.
Seeing him still affects my pulse in ways that have nothing to do with nostalgia.
He’s wearing work clothes that look like they’ve actually been worked in. Faded jeans with honest wear. Dark button-down rolled to his elbows. Combat boots that have seen real use. There’s a tool belt hanging low on his hips. His dark brown hair shows the first hints of silver at the temples.
Everything about him radiates competence and strength.
