Page 93 of Head Over Heels

With a single glance at the man who’d spoken, I knew Tim Wilder was really sick.

Cameron had told me that in the elevator, of course, and Ian made a comment as well, but seeing it for myself was different.

He had that gaunt look about him, where it hurt to watch him try to shift up higher in his chair. But his smile—it was warm and welcoming—and in the spread of it across his face, I saw a glimpse of his son.

“You must be Ivy,” he said. “I wish I could show better manners and get up to greet you, but my legs don’t feel so agreeable these days.”

I smiled, walking over to him and holding out my hand. “Please don’t worry about standing on ceremony,” I told him. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

His handshake was still firm, his eyes clear. “You’ve caused quite a stir since your arrival, young lady.”

I cleared my throat but was saved from replying when Sheila tutted from the kitchen.

“Lord, Tim, don’t scare her away. I finally got her here.”

He winked. “I don’t think this one scares easily, honey.”

I smiled, but I couldn’t help but feel like a giant coward. All of this scared me beyond belief. Nothing more terrifying than the kind of home I’d never experienced.

Showing up on their doorstep was the scariest shit I’d done in a long time.

The welcome in this home was tangible, and I tried to recall a time in my entire life when I’d ever felt its equal.

“Your home is beautiful,” I told them, and I meant it.

Everything about it was warm and comfortable, the craftsmanship in the two-story log cabin was evident. The furniture was all overstuffed, a mix of soft materials and inviting colors, big, squishy pillows and lush blankets. The rugs on the floor had vivid patterns, and the art hanging on the wall was eclectic—a mix of family photos and paintings with a distinct Pacific Northwest feel to it.

“Thank you, dear,” Tim said. “Built it with my own two hands.”

“He had a little help. Don’t let him fool you,” Sheila added.

I smiled. “It’s a great skill to build a home.”

He sighed, his eyes closing slightly as he set his hands on his stomach. “Only thing I ever wanted to do. Good thing I had a couple of kids who wanted to follow me because now my wife gets a fancy-ass chicken coop.”

Sheila laughed. “Cameron can’t do anything halfway,” she said. “But don’t you blame me for all the bells and whistles he’s putting on that thing.”

“They’ve got skylights, Sheila.”

As she laughed again, she motioned me into the dining area, where she set down two small tea plates and some linen napkins. “Ignore him. Even chickens need a nice view.” She set the vase of flowers, a bright explosion of pinks and purples with glossy green leaves, down and smiled happily when she stepped back. “So beautiful. I’ve never seen these spiky flowers, and I usually know my way around a garden.”

“It’s called a Veldt Fire,” I told her. “When I was younger, I had to take flower arranging classes. I thought they were from an alien planet.”

After she laughed, Sheila reached out to touch one of the soft pink petals that encased the yellow protrusions. When I was taking my classes, they were my favorite flowers to include in an arrangement. They looked sharp and fierce, balancing out all the soft curves of the rest of the flowers.

“You did this?” she asked. “Goodness, you’ve got a gift.”

“Thank you,” I told her. “I don’t know if they’ll ever let me back into the floral shop in Redmond though.”

Her eyebrows rose on her forehead. “Why ever not?”

I took a deep breath and thought about what Cameron said.

What would you be like if you weren’t afraid to show that side of you?

I’d say something true, even if there’d be a quick admonishment for my honesty.

“I terrified the girl working behind the counter. She wanted carnations and baby’s breath, and …” I paused, arching an eyebrow. “I may have been a bit too assertive in asking to help myself to their cooler of flowers.”

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