He was teasing me. I didn’t think it was particularly funny, but I laughed it off anyway, spreading my fare out on the island and reaching into a cabinet for the vase I wanted.
“And where would I meet someone?” I asked, convinced there was no answer.
“One of those apps. Bundle or Timber?”
“Bumble and Tinder,” I corrected on a chuckle. “I don’t know. It just seems so … random. And unnecessarily risky. I’d rather meet someone in real life and forge a connection than pick someone from a stable like a horse.”
“That’d require you to actually get out of the house.”
I frowned down at my hands as I trimmed stems. “You sound awfully judgy tonight, Dad.”
A sigh, heavy and full. “Sometimes, I worry I’m holding you back,” he admitted openly, as was his way. As was mine.
But I shook my head, eyes on the flowers, heart in my throat. “You’re not holding me back, Daddy. You’re holding me steady.”
A pause, long and pregnant. “Come here,” he said gently.
For a moment, I didn’t move. But there was no denying him, not of one single thing he wished. When I met his eyes, they were sad and deep. I didn’t know when he’d gotten so old. In my mind, he was still young and smiling, his face smooth and hair thick and shaggy. But in moments like this, his life was etched in the lines of his face like a story on stone.
He took my hand. “I love you, Tess. And I want you to make me a promise.”
“Anything, Daddy,” I said softly.
“Be wild. Because life is lived in the moments you don’t see coming. Not in the comfort of predictability, but in the thrill of the unknown.”
My heart folded in on itself at the thought. “But I … I don’t know if I know how.”
But he smiled. “Then that’s what you should figure out. Do one thing this week that scares you. Just one. And if you can’t think of anything, ask Ivy. I’m pretty sure she has a running list.”
At that, I laughed, the sound catching in my throat, tightened from emotion.
I couldn’t deny him. But I didn’t know how to honor the request.
The acrid smell of meat a little overdone hit my nose, and his too.
“Better get that,” he suggested, effectively letting me off the hook for an answer.
I hurried to the stove and grabbed the pan, picking it up to cool it a little as I salvaged dinner and digested what he’d said.
He wasn’t wrong, which was perhaps the most bitter taste left once I’d swallowed his words. I hadn’t been on a date in an unspeakable amount of time, and since Ivy had landed herself a bun in the oven and a serious boyfriend—fiancé soon, if I had to bet—we’d barely gone out at all. Not that we’d gone out much before. I was as bland as my father had suggested. There wasn’t much time to party when you were up at four every morning and at the flower shop at five, six days a week. By nine, I was toast, crispy and rough and in desperate need of some buttering up.
I wanted more out of life, I did. Someday, I hoped for the dream—a doting husband, a couple of kids, a house in the Village, summer vacations. I wanted my student loans paid and a hefty amount of money in savings. I wanted my wishes to come true, but now? Well, now I was focused on what was in front of me—the flower shop, my father, and my dream of someday publishing my own books about floristry.
I’d squeaked out nearly twenty thousand followers on Instagram and collected a decade of notes, a list of titles and themes just waiting to be explored. And someday, I would.
But first, today. And today was for predictability.
Wild could wait.
5
Things You Can Count On
LUKE
“You’re late.”
Tess scowled at me from behind the counter, her palms flat on the surface and her apron already streaked with dirt.
“Good morning to you too,” I said cheerily as the door closed behind me.
She rolled her eyes before turning to the shelf behind her. “You already have deliveries, so don’t bother getting comfortable.”
“It’s only eight in the morning.”
“No, eight was when you were supposed to be here. It’s eight-thirty,” she said, thunking a vase on the counter.
“Three orders this early? Who says we’re not busy?”
“Don’t get excited. They’re all to Judy.”
A laugh shot out of me. “News travels fast.”
“You’re disgusting, you know that?” Thunk went another vase. She pinned me with a glare before turning for the last.
“All I did was come back to town.”
“You’d send your mother to an early grave if she knew you were running your gigolo clients through her flower shop.” Thunk.
“Please. I haven’t been a gigolo in years.”
Her eyes narrowed to slits, and I got the distinct impression she was trying to explode me with her corneas.
“I’m kidding, Tess.”
Another roll of her eyes as she slapped the ticket next to the vases. “The truck is out back. By all means, take your time coming back.”
“You wound me,” I said, smiling at her like a fiend, fueled by her scorn.
“The indestructible Luke Bennet?” She snorted. “You act as if I don’t know you.”
I stalked up to the counter, my smile tightening. “Oh, I don’t think you know me as well as you think you do.”
She took a step back as if to keep the distance between us. “Hey, whatever helps you sleep at night.”
At that, my smile fell completely. “You sure are full of venom for this early in the morning.”
“Some of us are here before the sun.” She turned for the back. “It’s not early.”
“Hey,” I called after her, “I’m sorry again, Tess. For yesterday. I shouldn’t have grabbed you like that whether I thought you were Ivy or not.”
She shrugged a small shoulder with a flick, the motion anything but blasé. “No, you shouldn’t have. But if you leave with those bouquets in the next five minutes, we’ll call it even.”
The lie rolled off her tongue, but I didn’t buy it any more than she meant it. So I let it go, recognizing a brick wall when I saw one.
“Think you’ll manage the counter without me?”
She shot a look back at me, her small nose down and her eyes narrowed. “Beyond all the odds, we’ve somehow managed all this time without you. I’m sure we’ll survive.” She turned, striding away. “Tell Judy we said hi,” she said just before disappearing around the corner.
“Ohhhhkay,” I muttered, grabbing a box for the vases.
Tess had always been prickly, but this was a new level of disdain. Never had my very presence seemed to offend someone so deeply. The knowledge rankled me. Really, it was the lack of knowledge that got under my skin. I didn’t know what I’d done—or not done—and I had the distinct feeling that asking her would only end with me getting snapped at and evaded.
So I’d just have to convince her she was wrong about me. I was charming as fuck, so all I had to do was figure out how. I wondered if donuts would do any good. Everybody liked donuts. I could always try to kiss it out of her, but I had a feeling I’d end up with pruning shears between my ribs.