God help her, it was bare.
Still, he was in a flower shop. Meaning, he obviously had someone special in his life.
“Those are new this week,” she said cheerfully, painfully aware that it was just the two of them in the store and that her mother could be back at any moment for the next delivery, very possibly with Candy still nipping at her heels.
“They’re so perfect, for a moment I thought they were fake.” The man turned to give her a smile.
Fake flowers in her shop? She nearly laughed, if she wasn’t so surprised to see that the man was none other than Doug Monroe.
She stiffened impulsively, then forced her composure. This was a place of business, and more importantly, it was her place of business, and besides, she hadn’t seen Doug Monroe since high school graduation. She’d been pleased about it at the time. The guy had been a proverbial thorn in her side for the better half of her teenage years, first when they were paired against each other in debate and he had gone and insulted her stance on whether the cafeteria should ban chocolate milk, and later, when they’d run against each other for senior class president…and she’d lost. But the worst of it had been the prom planning committee, something he’d joined both junior and senior year, claiming it looked good on college applications, even after he’d already been accepted to Notre Dame.
But the Doug she knew back in high school was tall and lanky, with tortoise-rimmed glasses that made it hard to read his eyes, whereas the man that stood before her was…well. Not like how she remembered him at all.
She was suddenly aware that she was staring.
“Doug?” She smiled warmly. Surely if his physical appearance proved anything, it was that he had changed from the unfriendly teenager to a well-adjusted man, who didn’t appear to be married.
“Gabby Conway.” He grinned, and for a moment, she relaxed. She was just being silly, judging him based on his behavior back in school. That was well over a decade ago now. “Do you own this shop?”
She nodded. Every inch of this place was her pride and joy. Not a detail had been overlooked, from the soft honey-colored paint that was the perfect backdrop to any flower, to the blue and white striped awning under the shop sign, to the little cardstock labels she affixed to the buckets with twine, that not only identified each flower but also gave her personal thoughts on what made it so special.
Then she remembered that he had planned on going to law school after Notre Dame, something he had been quite sure to mention during his nauseating campaign speeches at the start of senior year. He’d done just that because if Doug was anything, he was a man with a plan.
This shop probably didn’t seem like much of an accomplishment by comparison, and her old competitive spirit flared.
“Are you visiting?” she asked with a smile. No need to hold a grudge, after all, even if she had looked forward to the prom planning committee since she’d first heard of it freshman year, and had filled a sketchbook with ideas that he seemed to question every chance he had.
He shook his head. “Nah, I moved back a few weeks ago, actually.”
Moved back? Her mouth went dry. Blue Harbor offered many things, but eligible bachelors were not one of them, especially when Gabby factored in how many of the men in town had dated one of her cousins or sisters or friends—making them officially off-limits. The list had dwindled to, well, Jackson Bradford. Maybe, at a stretch, Ryan Harrison, also known as her sister Brooke’s brother-in-law, so that got a little weird. Only now, it seemed like there may be a fresh face, or if not fresh, distantly familiar.
She’d settle on fresh. Enough time had passed for a second chance.
“Wow,” she said, somehow finding the words. “That’s a big change. You were in Cleveland, right?” It wasn’t that she was interested, more like word traveled in a town as small as Blue Harbor. Though there had been no mention of return.
“Columbus,” he said, his smile dropping a bit.
Well, enough pleasantries. It was clear he wasn’t going to elaborate, and what did she care why he left the city? He was back in Blue Harbor. Back to stay from the sounds of it. And he was obviously in her shop for a reason.
Gabby snagged an order form from her counter. “What can I do for you today?”
“My father called in an order. He asked me to pick it up for him.”
“Of course!” Gabby beamed. She’d been so distracted by those deep-set eyes that she’d never noticed before to even connect him with the order she’d filled earlier. “Your father is such a sweetheart, always sending your mother flowers on her birthday.”
Doug raised his eyebrows. “Can’t see why. They just die within days.”
Her eyes narrowed slightly. Still, she forced herself to remain positive. “With proper care, they can last longer, and of course, flowers are the simplest expression of love, if you ask me.” Which he hadn’t. And she’d just said the word love. And now he was looking at her like she had a third eye.
“I mean, once you know someone’s favorite flower, it’s such an intimate, personal gift.” She felt her cheeks flush. Intimate? There would be hell to pay if her sisters or cousins ever caught wind of this. It was just like Doug to get her all tongue-tied and flustered, something he seemed to take endless joy in doing when they stood at their posts in debate club. Of course, she had only joined because she’d had eyes
