“I’ve asked Violet to be a bridesmaid,” Autumn announced.
“How exciting!” My mother rushed over and gave Autumn a hug. “Let me see that ring!”
Autumn held out her left hand. “Ooh,” Mom cooed over the engagement ring. “What sort of stone is that?”
“It’s a green sapphire,” Autumn said. “I told Duncan I’d prefer a colored stone.”
“It suits you. Matches your eyes,” Mom said.
“That’s what Duncan said when he picked it out.”
Bad mood forgotten, I slung my arm around my friend’s shoulders. “I’m going to make you the best wedding flowers you have ever had!”
“I never had any doubts,” Autumn said, laughing and crying at the same time.
“Alright girls.” My mother pulled up another chair to the consult table. “Let’s talk wedding flowers.”
***
The rest of the day passed in a blur. After Autumn left, Mom cranked out the wedding corsages, and we finished all ten pumpkin floral centerpieces by lunch. The deliveryman picked them up and they were on their way to fulfill some happy bride’s November fantasy.
The shop was typically quiet the day after Black Friday, so after we cleaned up, I sent Mom home and let Tank come down to the shop. Taking Autumn’s predictions to heart, I ducked in the little bathroom in the back and touched up my face.
“The updo Marie did is still hanging in there.” I tugged the ponytail holder out, fluffed the bottom of my hair, and slicked on some purple lip gloss. “He played you,” I glared at myself in the mirror and proceeded to give myself a stern talking to. “Remember that and that he’s married. Don’t let your feelings get in the way.” I practiced a few haughty and disinterested expressions in the mirror and nodded in satisfaction.
Prepared for battle, I sat on a stool behind the work station, sipping at a bottle of water, and blew off the last hour of work. Tank sniffed around the store and eventually curled up under the large tree in the front window. I hummed along with the shop’s holiday music, and went over my notes for Autumn’s wedding flowers.
The jingle bells on the wreath chimed as our shop’s door opened, and I heard the sound of running feet. I snapped my head up and found a familiar little sprite standing in front of the work table.
“You look different today.” Charlotte Leigh Bell studied me intently. “Where are your wings?”
And she’s alone. Again. I thought. “Hey, Charlie.” I mentally psyched myself up for the coming confrontation with her father. “Where’s your father?” I asked.
“He’s parking the car.” She shrugged. “He told me to wait, but I wanted to see you.” Charlie barreled forward. “Hey, you have purple tennis shoes!”
“Sure do,” I said, while Charlie inspected the purple chucks. “Maybe we should—”
The jingle bells sounded again and Matthew Bell strolled in to my store. “Charlotte Leigh,” he said, sounding thoroughly exasperated. “I asked you to wait.”
Charlie skipped back to her father. “I wanted to see the Sugarplum Fairy, Daddy.”
Matthew shook his head at his daughter and then lifted his eyes, gazing directly at me. He smiled. “Hello, Violet.”
CHAPTER THREE
“Matthew.” I nodded, even though my heart leapt. I tried for an ice-queen vibe and sent one of those disinterested expressions that I’d practiced his way.
He considered me for a moment, and I studied him back just as thoroughly. Matthew’s lashes and brows were still dark, and they set off his honey-brown eyes. His hair was almost all a gorgeous silver. Shiny and thick, it was cut shorter on the sides, and was longer and tousled at the crown. It didn’t make him appear older than his thirty-five years, but it did make him stand out. By the goddess, I thought. Tall, buff and handsome.The man was more attractive than ever. It really wasn’t fair.
“Charlotte and I wanted to come in to thank you,” he said, his hand on the girl’s shoulder. “For your help yesterday.”
“I see.” I nodded and stayed seated on the stool. If I stood up, my shaking knees would totally blow the ice-queen act that I was trying so hard to project.
“I didn’t recognize you last night.” Matthew tried another smile. “Between the fairy costume, the makeup, and the purple wig.”
“I wasn’t wearing a wig,” I said, offended.
“Daddy says your name is really Violet. Like the flower.” Charlie giggled. “Is that true?”
“Yes,” I said, as Tank wandered out into the middle of the sales floor. He plopped himself between me and the Bells.
Charlie gasped. “Daddy look!” She dove after the cat, and Tank stayed where he was, allowing her over-enthusiastic affection.
“Is the cat friendly?” Matthew asked a bit too late.
I inclined my head. “Usually.” I let the threat of that hang in the air.
Tank swung his head around and glared at me. We both knew he wouldn’t hurt a child. If anything he’d simply ignore them.
“What’s the kitty’s name?” Charlie wanted to know.
“Tank,” I answered, staying where I was.
Matthew chuckled. “As in, ‘built like a tank’?”
“He’s a British shorthair,” I explained. “They are a muscular breed.”
The cat ducked under Charlie’s arm as I spoke. He stuck his tail in the air and sauntered towards the back room.
Charlie shucked her red coat and scrambled after him. “Here kitty, kitty.”
“Stay where I can see you, Charlotte,” Matthew called after her.
“There’s so many bows and ribbons!” Charlie’s voice floated from the back. “So many colors.”
Despite myself I grinned over the child’s reaction, and then flinched as Matthew was suddenly standing right next to me.
His eyes searched mine. “It didn’t hit me until late last night, that you were the one that had found Charlotte.”
“Seriously?” My sarcasm was automatic. “Walking into my family’s flower shop didn’t clue you in?”
“I never even noticed where I was,” Matthew admitted. “I was too focused on finding my little girl.”
His voice was deep, husky, and skittered right down my spine. Like it always had. I gritted my teeth against my involuntarily reaction.
Charlie ran out on the sales floor, holding a canister of cat treats. “Can I give the kitty a
