Chapter 4

Although my family was hardly best friends with the West family, they did live in our neighborhood. After Jacob had told me about his dad’s stroke, I felt guilty that my parents would never send them a bland casserole and a Get Well card. So I made a quiche that I hoped was seasoned well, bought a card, and walked to the Wests’ house to drop it off.

But when no one answered the door, I realized I probably should’ve called ahead. Not that I had their phone number, but I could’ve found it somewhere. Not wanting to just leave it on their doorstep for the raccoons to munch on, I walked over to Flowers to drop it off there. Judith had opened the store this morning, and I didn’t need to be there until the afternoon shift.

It wasn’t exactly a surprise to see Jacob again, but my heart did that annoying little kick it always did when I thought about him. I spotted him off to the side, helping a customer. I felt awkward with my quiche and card. Did I look around like I was going to buy something? Or did I just stand here and wait?

Jacob had just reached for a vase of lilies when his gaze caught mine. The customer also happened to reach for something, and I watched in horror and amusement as the customer’s arm accidentally hit the base of the vase and proceeded to spill its watery contents all over the both of them.

“Oh!” and “Shit!” were said from both customer and Jacob. Jacob set the vase down, only for it to begin to drip water down onto the shelf below. Seeing Jacob actually frazzled and, well, human, was a unique experience for me.

Since Jacob hadn’t gotten to this point yet, I set down the quiche and grabbed some paper towels from underneath the counter. I was well-versed in floral-related accidents, that was for sure.

“I’m so sorry,” Jacob kept saying at the same time the customer kept also apologizing. It was basically an apology battle. It looked like most of the water and bits of lilies had splashed onto Jacob; the customer had managed to get little more than some water on her shoes and the arm that had collided with the vase.

I cleaned up the water from the floor as best I could after I’d handed the two of them paper towels to dry off with. “Dani, you don’t have to clean that up,” said Jacob.

“Go get that wet apron off.” I smiled wryly up at him. “I’ll take care of the rest.”

He looked grateful, hurrying to the back. I helped the customer and, since Flowers had an old register that didn’t involve any codes to enter to use it, I was able to get her checked out by the time Jacob came back out.

“Did she leave?” he said.

“Don’t worry, I took care of her.”

I looked him up and down. His apron had kept his clothes dry, except for a few water spots here and there. Today he wore jeans and a green sweater. He looked delicious in green, and if I weren’t careful, I’d start munching on him like the snack he was. Nom nom nom, my brain and libido went. Nom nom nom, J is for Jacob and he is yummy in my tummy.

“Thank you, then.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I guess we’re even now.”

I was confused for just a second before I laughed. “Oh, yeah. I guess we’ve both been attacked by vases now. It comes with the territory.”

He pointed to the quiche, which was probably cold by now. “Did you bring me food?”

“It’s not for you. I mean—it could be. It’s for your parents. I felt bad after you’d told me about your dad. It’s a quiche,” I added, as if that detail were actually important.

Surprise crossed his face. He looked at me like he couldn’t quite make me out. “Well, then I guess I should thank you a second time.”

As the silence blossomed between us, I glanced around Flowers for the first time in years. Last time I’d been here I’d been in elementary school. It looked much the same, except for the new paint on the walls. I could’ve sworn they’d had more bouquets and arrangements on sale, but they might’ve moved toward custom orders. I had no idea. My dad had been the one to pay attention to those details.

“Besides getting all wet,” I said, because, for some inexplicable reason, I didn’t want to leave, “how’s it going with the whole taking-over-the-business thing?”

“Well, I look like I fell into a rosebush,” he said as he showed me his scratched palms. “And I forgot to use flower food in the bouquets so now they aren’t blooming as much as usual. But the customers are nice, so I’ll figure it out. I always do.”

He sounded so confident in his abilities that I felt irritated. I’d worked my ass off to get where I was. Did he really think he’d learn everything he needed to know by magic?

“I’m sure you will figure it out. You always seemed more than capable when we were younger. You were the most popular boy in school. You were the person everyone wanted to be: perfect in every way.” I added in a harder voice, “You were prom king of our little universe.”

He stilled at that last comment. “I’m not perfect.” Now he sounded really annoyed.

“Maybe not, but close enough.”

He gestured toward where the vase accident had happened. “Do things like that happen to perfect people?”

“That’s not the point.”

“What is the point? Enlighten me.”

“You act like this is all going to be so easy. You’ll just ‘figure it out,’ and it’ll just magically come to you.”

“Is it really that complicated to understand? Running one flower shop?” He cocked an eyebrow.

I was rather tempted to throw another vase of lilies at him. “You’re so arrogant.”

“Not arrogant. Just confident.”

I scowled. “God, you’re still as much of a butt-face as when we were kids.”

Suddenly the mood lightened, and he laughed. “Seriously? ‘Butt-face’?”

“Yeah. It seemed the most accurate descriptor I could think of.”

“You use the word ‘descriptor’ but can’t think of a better insult than ‘butt-face.’ ” He shook his head. “I think you need to work on your shit talking.”

“Are you going to tutor me in how to insult people now?”

“Are you suggesting that you’d like me to?” He stepped closer to me, until I could make out the light blue circle around his pupils. “Why do I feel like you’d make a terrible student?” he said softly.

I swallowed, my throat dry. “Pretty sure I got better grades than you.”

“I’m not talking about letter grades. I’m talking about a willingness to bend. Are you flexible, Dani? Because right now, you’re about as rigid as a board.”

I also thought of that ridiculous sex dream I’d had, and I wondered a bit wildly if he somehow knew I’d been having wet dreams about him. Right then, I was hot and I was cold. I wanted to jump his bones and throw something at his head.

I was pretty sure he was flirting with me. That realization in and of itself was astonishing. He could get any woman he wanted and he was flirting with me? Maybe he’d hit his head recently and had yet to fully recover. 

For a long time, I wondered if there was something wrong with me, because I’d never felt whatever it was that people called chemistry with a man. The ones I’d dated had always either bored me or left me cold. The few times I’d made out with them, my mind had wandered, or I’d been too focused on how wet everything was—and not in a good way, either. 

But right now, I felt that thrum of sexual tension that had been elusive for me for so long. I watched as Jacob’s pupils dilated, and I knew he felt it, too.

“I’m not rigid,” I said, sounding breathy. I never sounded like that around men. Soon I’d be batting my eyelashes if I weren’t careful. “I just know what I want.”

“Why do I feel like that’s not true?”

“And why do I feel like I’m talking to the Cheshire Cat? Saying everything but nothing at all. Go hang out in your tree and terrorize other dumb girls, Jacob.”

“But you’re so good at insulting me that it’s almost impressive.”

He’d leaned closer toward me, and I could smell his cologne: it was spicy, woodsy. It made me think of falling into his bed and feeling the rough calluses of his fingers against my skin as he moved down my body.

I was out of sorts, off-balance, and it was because of this man. I’d convinced myself that I’d gotten him out of my system years ago, but here I was, once again getting very close to becoming a googly-eyed, lovesick idiot panting after him.

Where the hell was my self-respect? Apparently, it had disappeared the second Jacob had appeared.

I stepped away from him. I was better than this. Jacob was my direct competitor. It was our jobs to steal business from each other. Which meant that I couldn’t trust him, no matter how much I wanted to.

Yet I still found myself looking around Flowers. It was partly out of curiosity, and also partly out of a desire to know my competitor. I had been here once as a kid, and it hadn’t changed much since then. It was smaller than Buds and Blossoms, and it didn’t have many arrangements you could come in and buy. I assumed that most of their revenue came from specially made arrangements and from things like wedding, funerals, proms—all the life events a person would need flowers for. Strangely, there weren’t many plants in here at all, except for a dried-out fern on a shelf overlooking the front counter and a few vases of flowers, including the lilies that had been spilled.

“Did you really come here just to drop off a quiche?” Jacob’s voice was wry.

I jumped, laughing a little. “Sorry. I haven’t been here in so long. Curiosity killed the cat, you know.”

The real eye-catcher in this place was a crescent-shaped arrangement of red roses that had been placed right next to the single window overlooking the street. I wondered who’d made it. Since Jacob’s dad had had a stroke, I’d assumed he’d been too ill to continue designing, but maybe he’d recovered enough already. I didn’t feel like I had the right to pry.

I didn’t hear Jacob come up behind me until he said, “I think I know what you’re doing.”

I turned, and my breath caught when I saw how close he was to me. I could make out the dark blue around his pupils, whereas the outer rim of his irises was a paler gray-blue. He had absurdly long lashes, and as a woman who had tried her fair share of mascara, I found it rather irritating.

Despite the long lashes, pretty eyes, and working in a flower shop, he still managed to exude masculinity. Maybe it was the confidence that he wore so easily, or how any parts of him that were pretty were overshadowed by the strength in his arms, or the firmness of his jaw, or the width of his shoulders. I had a distinct feeling that strong and firm were two of the best adjectives to describe Jacob West.

“What am I doing?” I said.

“You’re here to steal all of our secrets.”

I snorted, only because my mom had said the same thing about Jacob. “What, like your secret ingredient? What’s in the fertilizer, Jacob? Please tell me so I can make a fortune.” I batted my eyelashes.

He bit back a smile. “You’re different than when we were in high school,” he mused.

“Um, I should hope so. If I was the exact same as when I’d been a teenager, I’d be concerned.”

“No, I don’t mean how you look, but that is different, too, though not by much. I recognized you immediately.” He peered into my face, like he could find all of my secrets and hoard them for himself. To keep myself from squirming under his scrutiny, I stared at him, too, which made him full-on smile.

“Have you figured me out, yet?” I said.

“No, but I think I will.”

To my surprise, he reached out and plucked something from my hair, but he didn’t move his hand right away. I waited from him to step away, but his gaze moved from my eyes to my mouth. Electricity seemed to crackle between us. My mouth went dry as I wondered if he was going to kiss me, right here in the middle of his store.

The front door jingled. Jacob stepped back, holding up a bit of white. The moment collapsed like a house of cards.

“Petal,” he said. “In your hair.” He twirled the petal between his fingertips.

Heat made my skin prickle. My lips felt swollen, even though he hadn’t so much as touched me there.

“Do either of you work here?” said the woman who’d just come into the store. She was about two seconds from tapping her foot.

I stammered out a goodbye and hurried to Buds and Blossoms, wondering what the hell had just happened.

Had I imagined the entire thing, or had Jacob actually wanted to kiss me?