Page 21 of Wallflower in Bloom

“I’ll make sure to call in my favor for something special.” Jack winked at her.

A blush crept up her cheeks, and he realized that would be a fun pastime for the next few weeks, making those perfect apple cheeks turn his favorite shade of ballet pink.

“Violet! Oh, Violet!” a reedy voice called from across the street. A tiny woman in neon pink biker shorts waved her hand at Violet, clutching an orchid, and marched over to where they stood.

“Just the girl I was looking for, but well, well, well, who do we have here?” The pint-sized older lady peered up at him from behind enormous rhinestone glasses.

“Oh, Mrs. Maroo, meet Gray’s friend Jack.”

“I shoulda known,” she said, hand on her hip. “The hot ones always stick together.”

A laugh escaped him. “You’re too kind.”

She turned back to Violet with a serious look. “I’ve managed to almost murder the orchid, Herbert, my new beau, got me. I need some plant mom help.”

“Oh no. You’re sick, aren’t you?” Violet cooed as she took the wilted plant from Mrs. Maroo. “Poor little guy.” She gently rooted in the soil with her finger and handled it like a baby bird fallen from its nest.

She was bloody adorable as she gently pried back its leaves so they didn’t pop off the dying plant. “Why don’t you come with me back to Bloom, and we’ll see if I can help.”

“You’re a lifesaver, Vi.”

“I’m going to head back home,” Jack said.

“You can find your way back?” Violet looked up, taken out of her trance of saving the orchid.

“Sure thing. I’ll see you later.”

Time to lie low. He’d met far too many people already this morning. He pulled his hat down low over his head and jogged back. He hadn’t gotten a solid workout in recently, and his muscles had already weakened. September was coming sooner than he liked. He’d have to be back in fighting shape for those blasted breeches and shirtless scenes again.

As he jogged across the town square, a woman pointed a phone at him, probably taking photos.

He ignored it and double-timed it back home. It was nearly time for Todd’s medication anyway.

He was so happy to hide out in Violet’s magical cottage for the next few weeks. He felt transported back to a more joyful, less complicated time. One where costumes, contracts, and behavioral clauses didn’t rule his every waking moment.

Several days later, Jack’s nose woke him up before his brain. The smell of bacon and some sort of baking dough tickled his nose.

Staying here was the smartest fucking thing I’ve ever done. Though it had been like staying by himself, with how little he’d seen the ever-busy Violet.

He looked at the edge of the bed for Todd. He liked to keep a lookout while Jack slept and was usually curled up on the corner of the bed. He wasn’t there, and the bedroom door was ajar.

A bird song floated in through the open screened window. It was still early morning, and the room had a lavender glow as the sun rose.

There was a certain appeal to staying here instead of Vancouver. His place was too urban, with planes flying overhead and loud garbage trucks waking him up at all hours.

Thus far, he’d filled his days with books and lending a hand on Gray’s farm. A perfect way to while away three weeks until the press died down.

He felt his blood pressure lower every day he was in Fairwick Falls.

No, he realized. Right here in Violet’s cottage.

He stretched his arms behind his head. He’d only be here for another week and a half so he’d have to make it count; luxuriate in rural American small-town living. See if he could find a festival with a pie-eating contest.

The teasing scent of bacon tickled his nose for a moment too long.

Jack threw off the covers and bounded downstairs, only to find Todd curled up on Violet’s stomach where she lay on the couch, playing with his front paws.

Lucky bastard.

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