Page 3 of Bloom and Burn
I do groan when she hangs up, and I also punch the floral bar. But not too hard, because it’s not its fault. Then I get to work, putting together a sample festival bucket so I can send her a picture of it for approval. Her reply arrives five minutes later. It’s anOkay, save for a couple complaints about the way I tied the ribbons. Once I’ve quickly fixed them, she’s happy and urges me to close up and head home so I’m not late for dinner with the Rogers.
Confused, I glance at the bee-themed clock above the counter. Oh shit, it’s passing six-thirty p.m. I completely lost track of the time!
I take that as a good thing, because it means I had fun despite the few hurdles I had to overcome. Dinner with the Rogers is the last one, and just what I need after my longand intense day. But whatever, I am a fighter. I face any trouble with my chin high. Unless it’s my mom, of course.
I reach for the switchboard to turn off the lights when the doorbell chimes as someone enters the shop. I turn around and channel my friendliest smile.
“We’re close—”
Oh. My. God.Who the hell is this hottie, and what is he doing here ten minutes after closing?
Schooling away my shock, I clear my throat. “I mean… Hi there. Can I help you?”
The man’s attention shifts to me from the table display with the irises. His hazel eyes crinkle in the corners as he studies me, and then a shy smile touches his full lips. “Hi. Yes, actually. I’m looking for a bouquet,” he says, tucking his hands in the pockets of his unbuttoned beige peacoat.
I can’t stop the chuckle that comes out of me. “Yeah, we do sell those here.”
He laughs too, and it’s a really nice laugh because it makes my skin tingle. Or maybe it’s the intensity of his gaze that’s still locked on me.
Oh god, he’s so sexy. I need a time out. I was not prepared for something like this at the end of my first day!
I indicate the vases with bouquets along the front of the floral bar. He frowns slightly as he appears to be a bit out of his element, so I decide to help him out.
“Are you after anything in particular?”
He hums as he walks further into the shop and examines what the Orchid has to offer. But as he turns back to me, his confused smile tells me he’s even more lost than when he first walked in. “Honestly? I’ve no idea.” He shrugs and lifts one hand, raking his fingers through his chestnut brown hair. It’s short-cropped on the sides, butthe top is slightly longer, making for a well-styled hairdo that I want to run my hand through and disrupt. “What do you recommend?”
The hopeful note and the hint of excitement in his voice warm my heart. He’s taking this seriously, so whoever the flowers are for must be important to him.
“Let’s see…”
I walk around the shop, thinking. Irises are in season now, hydrangea and tulips too, so, really, I should tell him that. The quicker he buys something, the quicker he will be on his way and out of mine so I can lock up. On the other hand, the longer I take, the more I get to look at his attractive face.
“What’s the occasion?” I ask, returning to the floral bar and leaning my elbows on it.
He contemplates that for a few moments, then raises an eyebrow at me as if in challenge. “No occasion.”
He’s tall. Close to six feet. Or maybe even six-one. Wide-shouldered. His clothes look expensive so he must be rich, though a normie like me has no idea what brand they could be even though I can see it embroidered on the breast pocket of his dark blue suit. It looks like a bird or something, but honestly, I don’t really care because his eyes are still on me. They are gorgeous and they are openly smiling at me. There is something familiar about them too, but somehow, I can’t quite pinpoint what it is.
“Roses and always popular. And very universal,” I say, biting down on my lip for suggesting them. I’m still bitter from the argument I had with mom earlier and changing the front window row display because of it.
His gaze darts from me to the stand with the roses, but he only spares them a glance before he’s back to studyingme. “I don’t know… I was thinking something less… mainstream maybe? And more colorful.”
I like him already. “Great. I was just testing you. Seasonal flowers are the way to go, unless you have a very specific occasion.”
He watches me as I put together a lively bouquet of dahlia, tulips, statice and eucalyptus. I could’ve offered one of the lovely ready-made arrangements, but a part of me wanted to impress him with my flower skills. Why? I guess it’s because I know all the men my age in Estacada and none of them intrigue me. This random and hot-as-fuck stranger, on the other hand? He’s kind of cute, and I just can’t shake this feeling that I’ve seen him before.
“Aren’t you supposed to be helping the customer choose, not quizzing them on what makes a good pick?”
I laugh out loud, liking him even more. It’s always super fun to meet someone new, someone not from around here. Someone open, whose experiences are not limited to our small town.
The arrogant smirk he flashes me takes my breath away. It tickles my brain, trying to remind me where I have seen him, but I just can’t figure it out.God, just who is he?
“Dahlias go very well with tulips,” I inform him instead of answering his question. “And the statice and eucalyptus bring out their colors without overpowering them.” I wiggle my eyebrows at him because, clearly, I’ve dropped my professionalism. “That’s my recommendation.”
I put the final touches, tying a pastel pink ribbon around the cream wrapping paper. His smile never drops.
“It’s exactly what I would’ve gone for,” he states when I hand him the flowers.
