Page 31 of Accidentally in Bloom

He wished he could call Frank. This is exactly the kind of thing he loved to tell Frank about. He’d have made a huge fuss, probably because he’d known Gray’s parents wouldn’t understand.

Thinking about Frank, Gray realized who would be next on his call list.

He found the number Violet had sent him and chuckled as he started a new text.

Gray

K Princess Bertha. I’m ready to talk money.

He snorted to himself. Using the nickname she hated was a particular form of enjoyment. He heard the ding of his phone before he put the car in drive.

Princess Bertha

You forgot to add ‘your highness,’ farmer.

Gray laughed.

Gray

Your Highness, Crown Princess of Pains in My Ass: I would like to pay you a shit ton of cash for that pile of rust that passes for a greenhouse.

He sent it and wondered with a smile what she’d say back. He saw the three dots appear, disappear, and appear again.

Princess Bertha

Meet me at the flower shop at 7 tonight.

He let himself laugh, let himself feel the joy of things working out for once.

Wait, wasn’t he supposed to loathe her? She irritated him to no end, but maybe he smiled because she was both a thorn in his side and an excellent verbal fencing partner.

Wonder what she’d have cooked up for him next.

ROSE

Rose checked her watch; 7:13, and he still wasn’t here.

She scrubbed the baseboard with fervor in the empty flower shop and pretended it was Gray’s face she punished with a Brillo pad.

Lily and Vi had gone home after a long day of deep cleaning the showroom. Rose leaned back on her bottom and wiped her brow.

She was caked in filth from cleaning the decades of grime on the walls and felt gross but victorious. The place now shone. If Gray agreed to reopen the flower shop, she’d start painting the first coat of primer in the morning.

Chugging from a bottle of water, she peered out the large front window and saw Gray coming out of Fox & Forrest holding two lattes in a to-go holder.

He stopped to say hello to three different people. She shook her head in disbelief. How is the bane of her existence beloved by the community?

It was a warm night for March, and he had only a Henley layered over a white shirt. He’d pushed up the sleeves, exposing his forearms and the detailed tattoos that wrapped around his arms.

Wanting him hit low in her belly and she took a mental snapshot of those forearms against the contrast of the dark Henley.

Rose’s mouth salivated at watching him walk, his thick thighs eating up the ground and his broad shoulders thrown back as he stopped to chat with somebody fucking again. He pressed his hands through his hair and Rose felt an annoying tug of attraction. His hair was a little too long, which meant he was constantly flicking it out of his face.

He joked with the woman and child he’d stopped to talk with. Why did everyone else get that sparkling smile, but she didn’t?

He finally ambled over to the front door of the flower shop, and Rose realized with a start that she looked like a dust-covered piece of shit. She checked her reflection in the window before she hopped up. She was wearing yoga pants, trainers, and a sports bra with a tank top thrown over it, but it was too late to make herself more presentable.

He’s a potential buyer for the greenhouse, she rationalized as he wrenched open the door. That’s definitely why she cared so much.

---