Page 145 of Charmed, I'm Sure
We could have stayed home, snuggled up with our two little fur babies, wrapped in each other and ignoring the world, and it still would have been a perfect day. But the fact that he’d planned every detail—apparently down to theminute—had my heart skittering in my chest, my knees weak, and the need to climb the man like a tree nearly impossible to ignore.
A cool breeze kissed my cheeks, sneaking past the collar of my coat, and a shiver wracked my body. Wrapping my arms around Taylor’s waist, I huddled in close to absorb his warmth. Was this the best way to walk with someone? No, probably not—I had to make a conscious effort not to trip over either of our feet. But the heat radiating off him, the security I felt when he tightened his hold on me? Well worth the tripping hazard.
“Oh, look at you two,” Mrs. Dorothy cooed as she stepped out of the flower shop.
“Hey, Mrs. Dotty,” we responded in unison.
Even a year later, it was still a smidge surreal to be on the receiving end of friendly smiles and warm welcomes from people who once seemed to abhor my presence.
“Those are pretty,” I gestured toward her bouquet with a tilt of my chin, refusing to release Taylor and lose his warmth for even a second. January was always cold, butMother above,this was ridiculous. I couldn’t feel my nose anymore.
“Aren’t they?” She brought the bundle to her nose, inhaling deeply before beaming at me. “Here, cher. You take one.”
“What? No, Mrs. Dotty, that’s okay. Idon’t—”
My words fell on deaf ears. She had already plucked a stem from her arrangement and was holding it out to me.
“It complements your other one quite nicely, don’t you think?” she asked, something flickering in her brown eyes that I couldn’t quite place.
“It does,” I responded softly, taking the dark pink peony she offered and adding it to the other in my opposite hand.
What the hell is going on?
We said our goodbyes, and as Dorothy walked away, I turned my glare on Taylor. “You’re up to something.”
“Why would you think that?” he asked, a mischievous smile tugging at his lips as he pulled me closer and started walking again.
“Gee, cowboy. I don’t know.” I waved the flowers in front of his face.
“Maybe they’re just being nice.”
“Not likely.”
“Never know, sunshine. Maybe they just wanted to share a pretty flower with a pretty lady.”
“Maybe you’re full of shit,” I said with a laugh. His lips curled upward at the corners, amusement dancing in his eyes.
“I’m on to you, Hallows.”
“Whatever you say, sunshine.”
By the time we reached the restaurant, I had accumulated a grand total ofsixpeonies, and every time Taylor looked at me, he burst into laughter. Not that I could blame him. I was pretty sure I had been stuck in a perpetual state of shock.
“What am I supposed to do with these?” I balked as I stepped through the doors ofCypress on the Bayou, awe swallowing the rest of my words.
I’d walked past the restaurant countless times but never stepped inside. Never had a reason to, since it was thefanciestplace in town, and their prices were a tad out of my range for a casual dinner.
Which, apparently, this wasnot.
Rich, polished mahogany with gold and cream accents filled the space. Etched glass panels lined the area around the center bar, depicting the moss-draped trees our state was known for. The lights were dimmed—bright enough to see but low enough to create a warm, intimate ambiance. It wasgorgeous, and the aromas wafting through the air had my mouth watering instantly.
Taylor merely shrugged in response to my question, letting the door swing shut behind him as he led me toward the hostess stand.
“Ah, Mr. Hallows. We have your table all set for you. If you’d both follow me.”
Taylor laced his fingers through mine, tugging me along as we wove through the restaurant toward the back.
“Where are we going?” I asked in a hushed whisper.
