She nods knowingly. “I see. Did he panic too?”
“Nope. He’s pretty steadfast in his feelings.”
“And you still love him?”
With a nod, I’m finally ready to say it out loud. “Very much so, yes.”
“But you’re scared?”
I nod again. “Very much so, yes.”
“Then, there’s only one more question,” she says, and I look up and wait for her to ask it. “Do you love him more than you’re scared?”
Closing my eyes, I smile. “I think so.”
“Then, it looks like you have a new epilogue to write.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
I’m standing outside Moreau Flowers, entirely too nervous to be doing this. If Jake won’t come home, then I need to go to him, and work is the most obvious place to find him.
I open the door, and the chime goes off, sounding more like a siren in my head than a sweet jangling, as it probably does to everyone else.
Jake is at the front desk, doing a floral design for a client. He’s smiling that gorgeous grin I’ve missed and making the client laugh. His ease while working actually makes my racing heart simmer down a bit. That’s just what he does. He calms you with his presence.
That is, of course, until he looks at you.
Those chocolate eyes make me melt into a puddle of goo as he stares at me.
“Hi, Lacey,” he says, and I’m surprised.
The couple he’s working with is standing right here. They turn around to see who he’s talking to.
I give a wave. “You can get back to helping these nice people.”
His eyes narrow, but his mouth tilts up as he stands straight and states nonchalantly, “It’s okay. You remember my buddy Kent from the museum. And this is his fiancée, Sydney. Guys, this is Lacey.”
His ease with me being here is unnerving. I thought he’d be angry or pissed. Instead, he’s just … lovely.
Kent and Sydney are smiling and take a step to the side, as if to give me a path toward the counter, where Jake is working. The way Sydney grabs Kent with a big smile on her face proves to me that they know exactly who I am and why I’m here.
“Can I get you anything?” Jake asks, and I panic slightly.
“Um … yes. I came for daisies.”
He quirks a brow. “Daisies?”
“Yes.”
Without another question, he turns to the cooler behind him and takes out a bunch of the happy-looking flower. He walks them over to a side counter, where tissue paper and cellophane are ready for him to make a bouquet. My skin is prickling as I watch him make the bouquet, the entire event not going as planned. I wasn’t expecting there to be people in the store, and I certainly wasn’t prepared for him to squeeze me in while he was working with them.
“Here you go.” He hands me the bouquet, and I get lost for a moment in how handsome he looks in his green sweater.
“Thanks.”
I take out my wallet, but he holds up a hand.
“On the house.”
He’s acting friendly. It’s not like the man who walked out of my apartment. It’s like the guy who was my neighbor. This is all too easy. It’s as if he’s giving me an out. If I want to end things, then he’ll let me, and he won’t make it awkward.
I should be grateful. Yes, I’m happy with this turn of events.
Taking my flowers, I thank him again and then smile at his friends. That’s what normal people do.
I turn around and head toward the door, pushing it open and hearing that bell chime.
Then, it hits me.
This is all wrong.
We’re not friends. We’re not casual. And we certainly aren’t cordial.
We’re fire and ice and everything in between.
“I’m rewriting my book,” I say with my back still to him.
Closing the door, I turn around and see he’s looking up at me. A pen is in his hand, like he was about to get back to working on his friend’s arrangement.
They’ll have to wait.
“The ending wasn’t right, so I’m revising it,” I say.
Kent turns to Sydney. “Um, maybe we should come back, let them have their time.”
Sydney shushes him. “Are you kidding? Once Jake told us about her, I read her books. I need to know how this one ends.”
I can’t help the slight laugh that escapes my lips.
Jake leans back on his heels and crosses his arms in front of his body. “Oh yeah?” He seems intrigued. “How does it end this time?”
“Well …” My hands fiddle with the flowers I’m holding. The cellophane crinkles with every push of my fingers. “She walks into his flower shop and buys a bouquet of flowers. Daisies, to be exact, because he once told her they were the best way to show your love.” I turn to Kent and Sydney and explain, “They’re actually made of two flowers—the yellow middle is one, and the white outer ring is another. Together, they become one.”
I take a sure, steady breath and walk closer to Jake. “You see, she was wrong. It’s not the longevity of the relationship that makes it more likely for the couple to have true love. It’s the depth. It is lust and great sex and witty banter and laughs. It’s listening to the other when they open up to you and being there when they need a friend.” I step forward. “It’s showing up at his place of work and making a complete fool of yourself because you’re sorry for acting the way you did.”
The air in the room feels ripe with tension as I stare at Jake while his eyes travel over my face, searching for something.
“So, the ending to your book,” he says, “she walks into the shop because she knows all of these things, but what does she tell the hero?” He looks to Sydney and winks. “That’s me, by the way.”
I’d roll my eyes if I wasn’t so damn determined to get this guy to realize how serious I was about him. He’s not
