Chapter 10
10
AXTON
T hree steps into the flower store, I feel like I’m crouching down, trying to hide. I roll my shoulders as I head for the counter. This should be easy. Plenty of men do this every year.
I vaguely recognize the woman behind the counter from seeing her around town over the years. The look of complete shock on her face says she recognizes me as well.
She adjusts her thick, red-framed glasses. “Good afternoon. May I help you?”
“Yeah. I need flowers. You know…for Valentine’s Day.”
She smiles politely. “Romantic, family, friend, or coworker?”
“Definitely romantic.”
She walks toward a giant refrigerated case filled with more kinds of flowers than I knew existed. “Are you thinking traditional, like long-stemmed red roses? Or something a bit trendier?”
I point to a hot pink daisy thing. “She has some stickers like that on her laptop.”
Something shifts in the woman’s eyes. “All right. How about a fun mix, with some of those Gerbera and a variety of pink roses?”
“Sure.” I clear my throat. “Whatever’s good for the first Valentine’s Day with a new girlfriend – but for God’s sake, no ferns.”
She moves quickly and efficiently, collecting a bunch of different flowers and greenery from the cooler, including sprigs of white stuff that frankly look like weeds to me. Once she holds it all up together to show me, it looks like those fancy floral arrangements I remember from the doctor’s office. But perkier.
“Looks good,” I shrug.
She nods, then brings the flowers to a table, arranges and wraps them in green paper, then ties it all together with pink ribbons. “Nice,” she says, regarding her handiwork. “A lot of men just go for the red roses, but honestly, I think they’re a bit heavy and dark. This is sweeter. More romantic.”
I make a non-committal grunt, then look through the enclosure cards. A lot of them have pre-printed messages, but I pick a plain one that for bonus points has a hot pink daisy on it.
Except – dammit. Now I have to think of something to write.
What would Hazel expect? What do guys normally write? Screw it. She knows me well enough to know I have no idea what I’m doing with this whole relationship stuff. I test the pen and write the most honest thing that pops to mind.
This is the first time I’ve been inside a flower store in my life. That’s how much you mean to me, Hazel. I hope this Valentine’s Day is the first of dozens and dozens.
I pay for the flowers, both shocked and amused by the price, then stash them in the back of the truck under a tarp, figuring the cool air will keep them fresh. I mean, they were in a fridge, right?
Just as I begin to approach the bookstore, Hazel comes out with an expression I don’t entirely like. “What’s up, baby?”
I have to confess, the way she bites her bottom lip is sexy as hell, but I can’t stand the cloudiness in her eyes.
“Um… How many restaurants are there in town?”
“A few, but the food at the ski resort is the best, in my opinion. That’s why I picked it. Why? Do you want to get in the truck and scroll through the rest online?”
Her head shakes. “No… I’m probably just being silly. Let’s go.”
As we drive toward the ski resort, I reach out and squeeze her hand. “I should warn you, we might get a few funny looks. Nobody has ever seen me with a lovely young lady on my arm before.”
“Or smiling, apparently.” She squeezes my hand back and gives me a look. “The woman in the bookstore seemed interested to see you doing that.”
Shit. I knew she was going to hear about it anyway, but I wish it hadn’t started so soon.
“I really don’t want to discuss this today, but some things happened in the past that put me in a dark mood for a long time. I’m snapping out of it, though. Can we leave it at that for now?”
“Sure.”
“Are you hungry?”
“Yes.”
We pull into the lot, and my mood suddenly lifts again. I’m about to walk into a crowded room with the most beautiful girl in the world.
I park and start to get out of the truck to walk around and help Hazel down. Before I can even reach for the handle of my door, hers is being opened.
“There’s my girl! Thanks so much for getting a ride with one of the locals. You must be as excited for this dinner as I am.”
A scrawny man in a suit grabs her by the waist, setting her on her feet.
Another man is touching my girl.
Even worse, instead of being outraged, she seems to be cringing.
As if she expected this to happen.