Page 75 of Accidentally in Bloom

“Will do. It was nice to see you, Gray.” Allison sent him a sparkling smile that did absolutely nothing for him.

They wandered out of the flower shop. Dark clouds had gathered on the horizon, and the spring day threatened to turn into rain.

“She’s pretty,” Rose said casually, as if he and Rose were buddies, not...whatever it is they were.

“You my wingman now, princess?”

“I’m just saying. She obviously likes you. You should ask her out. You know, when I’m gone. Or now,” she added quickly. “I’m not the boss of you.”

Why did she always have to remind him she was leaving? He had a feeling his heart was already spoken for, even though it shouldn’t be.

“Just stop talking about it,” Gray snapped.

He felt like he was being pushed to the brink, having the perfect package in front of him, knowing it would be snatched away at any moment. “You’re here now.” His eyes laser-focused on hers as her large light brown eyes widened. “That’s all we need to talk about. Don’t mention it again.”

Rose opened her mouth to respond and closed it, brow furrowed.

They put on their helmets in silence, and Gray started the bike. It was too loud to talk, thankfully. Riding in silence, they headed back to Fairwick Falls.

His temper thundered through him. It was rare that it came out unprovoked. Maybe it was the growing storm in the sky, but he wanted to rage against the world for tempting him with someone so perfect for him and not letting him enjoy it.

The black clouds rolling through the sky meant it would be a heavy spring storm. Gray thought he could make it to his house in time, but raindrops splattered his helmet as he drove the bike down the highway near his house. He turned into a greenhouse on the far edge of his property. They could wait out the heaviest part of the storm there.

By the time he pulled into the greenhouse driveway, rain came down in thick, heavy drops, flying at them in sheets.

They both ran to the greenhouse, her unstable on the gravel in her high heels. He loved that she wore those fucking heels all the time, so impractical, but so her, perfect and powerful. They ran into the building, gasping, and tore off their helmets.

“Oh my god, I’m soaked!” Rose wiped the sheets of rain off her arms. She glanced up, and her jaw dropped.

He had to admit, this was one of his more spectacular spaces. This greenhouse was stocked full of plants ready to go out to stores. Baskets hung from the ceiling, and nearly every inch was covered in greenery.

Lilacs, daffodils, and poppies mingled on top of one another, creating a colorful mosaic throughout the open space. The sweet scent of florals tickled his nose, and the windows at the top of the building let in ambient light as a thundering soundtrack of rain hit the roof. It felt damn near enchanting.

“This is mine,” he said. “We’re on the edge of my property.”

“Wow,” Rose let out a long breath. “I mean, I knew you had a big operation, but...wow.”

“These are some of my favorites.” He tried to casually play it off as if every word she said didn’t stroke the deepest part of his ego. Even as water dripped off her, her hand came down to the head of a daffodil, and she ran a manicured thumb around the edge. Gray walked to the back to find some towels.

“So pretty,” she murmured. “It’s stuffed in here.”

“Yeah. It’s prom season, so we’re full of supplies to make corsages.”

Rose let out a small huff and a half smile as she wiped the water from her sleeves. “Right, corsages.” She shook her head as if remembering they existed. “I never went to prom.”

He called back to her, rummaging through a pile of semi-clean towels. “How’s that possible? I figured you were the high school heartbreaker.”

Rose wandered through the greenhouse, her hand grazing over the petals. She bent down to sniff a carnation. “I was...Smelly Rose. In grade school,” she clarified quickly. “My dad hated doing laundry, and I didn’t know how to wash clothes when I was little. Taught myself in fourth grade, though. The nickname stuck, and it’s a small town, so I was Smelly Rose well into high school.”

Tears pricked at Gray’s eyes as he grabbed a towel, thinking of a fourth grader teaching themselves how to do laundry. He loved Frank but damn. That was hard.

“It did not help,” she smiled back at Gray, “that I was also kind of overly competitive and made sure to win every award to stick it in their smug little faces.”

Gray snorted with laughter as he walked back. That sounded more like the Rose he knew. “Good. Sounds like they deserved it.” She chuckled along with him.

He took her coat off and rubbed a towel up and down her legs.

“I can get it, Gray.”

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