Page 91 of Wallflower in Bloom

He pulled into the gravel cottage drive and parked. “Is he still aroun’ here, your father? I’d luv to meet ’im.”

Her stomach dropped. Oh, no, don’t cry in front of this cute little man. “He, uh, passed about seven months ago.”

“Oh, my darlin’,” he said, putting a hand over hers. “I am sorry. I didn’t know.”

Unexpected emotion clutched at Violet’s throat. She usually tried to keep it at bay so she didn’t bother anybody else.

“It’s fine. It was sudden, but”—Violet sniffed, wiping her eyes—“I didn’t get to say goodbye, you know?”

She hardly knew this man, and here she was, telling him how she hadn’t processed the loss of her dead father. Not exactly prime hostess material. “I’m so sorry for blubbering.”

“No need to be sorry, dear. I hope tha’ someday, when I kick the bucket, my son still thinks of me and has a tear come to his eye. It’s not a bad thing to be caught missin’ someone you luv.” He patted her hand and opened the door as Jack approached them.

Jack took the suitcase from his dad as he struggled to lift it from the trunk. “Are those Café au Lait Dahlias you’ve got there?” Gerald pointed to the enormous, newly blooming peach dahlias.

“Yes, I planted those this spring. They’re Lily’s favorite. They’re a beast to deal with, but they make her so happy.”

“It looks like Kew bloomin’ Gardens,” he said, taking in all her landscaping. He clapped Jack on the shoulder with a smile. “You undersold her, my boy.”

“Oh, I—it’s just a hobby now,” she babbled, even as pride washed over her. They wandered through the blooming hydrangeas and up to the back door.

“This looks like an English country cottage.” Gerald beamed. “Now I know why you’re so at home here. A beautiful woman, beautiful plants; what more could you need?”

“You haven’t had her chocolate chip cookies yet. That’s the real clincher.” Jack winked at her as they walked in.

She tried to hold onto the feeling blossoming inside her. The sense of being seen for who you were and still loved for it. Celebrated for it, even.

Todd trailed down the steps as they came into the kitchen.

“There’s my handsome boy,” Gerald cooed. There were several minutes of snuggling and leg weaving on Todd’s behalf.

“Why don’t we get that welcome when we get home?” Jack asked.

Todd let out a simple meow and went back to weaving through Gerald’s legs as he leaned down and scratched Todd’s head.

“You’ve made quite a home for yourself, young fella,” Gerald said, straightening and clapping a hand on Jack’s shoulder. “Now, when exactly am I going to get those grandbabies?”

“Dad,” Jack warned. “I’m sorry, love. He’s one of those kinds of parents.” He turned to Violet with a comical grimace.

Violet blushed, thinking of what they’d done the night before. She wouldn’t mind making grandbabies with Jack Grant one bit.

She might even be first in line to volunteer.

“Do you want kids?” Gerald asked with a hopeful face suddenly, turning to Violet.

“Dad, you can’t ask people that,” Jack said, now stern.

“Just lookin’ out for the future strappin’ line o’ Grants.”

“I would love kids,” Violet said with a smile. “But there’s no rush.”

She wanted to give Jack an out and not get his father’s hopes up.

A twinge twisted in her heart at the thought of kids with Jack. She wanted a family but didn’t want to do it alone and assumed it’d never happen for her. Finding a partner who would fit so neatly into her life seemed impossible.

She noticed Gerald looked tired. “Can I get you something to drink or start dinner?”

Gerald scratched his head, having a hard time keeping his eyes open. “Just need to get some shut-eye. I’ve been up a full day.”

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