13. Emma
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
EMMA
This second first kiss with Aaron carries even more heat than before. More passion. More hope. More of everything, and I thought I’d never be kissed the way he’d fake-kissed me in the back doorway of my shop.
But this one beside his truck?
Incredible.
The soft brush of his beard against my face sends delight through me, and I have no idea how long we stand outside his house, kissing. Long enough for me to feel like I might combust, and long enough for my lips to feel a bit puffy and bruised when he finally pulls away.
I keep my eyes closed, trying to commit every sensation to memory. I forget a lot of things, but I really don’t want to forget how Aaron makes me feel when he holds me close .
“Let’s—” he starts, but the shrill ringing of my phone cuts him off.
My pulse knocks through my body painfully. “Grams,” I gasp out.
“I was just going to say, let’s go.”
I let the phone ring as I climb in Aaron’s truck, and he makes the quick drive from his house to Grams’s. She only lives a few streets over and across the bridge, and we arrive only five minutes later.
She hasn’t called again, thankfully, but as Aaron puts the truck in park, I see her framed in the front window. Watching.
“Let’s not dawdle,” I say.
Aaron snickers, then clears his throat, and says, “No, ma’am,” before dropping out of the truck and jogging—legit jogging—around the front of the truck to get my door. I can open my own door, of course, but I let Aaron do it, because Grams is watching, and it’ll make her like him more.
I smile at him as he takes my hand. “Everything is fine.”
“You’d tell me if I was walking into a landmine, right?” His smile stays etched on his face too, our steps slow as we go down the sidewalk.
“Of course,” I say. “Grams is a good cook, and she’ll probably have you fixing her kitchen sink before we leave.” I squeeze his hand and trot up the steps just as Grams opens the front door .
“Grams,” I say, releasing Aaron’s hand and taking her into a hug. “Sorry, we’re a little late.”
“I called.”
“Just once.” I step back and smile at her. “Don’t be mad, okay?” I whisper. “Aaron finally kissed me, so it was worth being late for.”
Grams’s eyes widen, and she looks over my shoulder to where Aaron stands. I turn to face him too and reach for his hand. “Aaron, this is my grandmother, Greta. Grams, this is my boyfriend, Aaron.”
Something warm and wonderful moves through me at my use of the word boyfriend , because it’s been a long time since I had one of those. I feel like sunlight beams from me, lighting Aaron’s face as it does.
“Ma’am.” He nods at Grams, steps forward, and hugs her, sweeping his lips across her papery cheek as he does. “Emma has told me so many good things about you.”
“I’m sure she has.” Grams smile at Aaron, then shoots me a look before turning to go inside the house. “Come in, y’all. We don’t want the rolls to get too cold.”
I grin and grin as Aaron watches Grams for a moment, then turns to face me. “Told you about the rolls.”
“She likes me, right?”
I look at the open front door. “Well, she left the door open, so she doesn’t dis like you.”
He smiles at me, and we go inside the house. “So, Greta,” he says. “Em said you might have something amiss with your kitchen sink.” He joins her effortlessly in the kitchen, and I stay back by the couch, watching the two of them.
And I know I always fall too fast—something I haven’t forgotten, unfortunately—but that ooey-gooey goodness fills me, and I fall a little bit in love with Aaron as he takes the wrench Grams hands him and looks at it like she’s torn off his arm and given it to him to hold.
The buzzer on the back door sounds, and I exhale and push my hair out of my face. “He’s here,” I say to Sir Chills-a-Lot. “You be nice to him this time.”
Aaron’s come to help me several times since I bought the florist shop, so this late-night meet-up isn’t all that special. Except it is, because we’ve been dating for a couple of weeks now.
Three weeks , my mind shouts at me. And he survived dinner with Grams. In fact, she’s texted me several times about how “wonderful,” and “handsome,” and “sweet” Aaron is.
A level of exhaustion pulls through me as I step toward the back door. I’ve been really busy lately, what with this Spring Fling Festival and Ry’s wedding all within a few days of each other.
Aaron has been too, as he’s taken on a new build now that his house is finished. I can’t even begin to understand how to make another level to a house, so I let Aaron sleep if he needs to, and I sweep my lips across his forehead before I drive back to the Big House.
I unlock the door and say, “Hey,” immediately turning to go back to my cold room.
“I brought dinner,” he says, coming in behind me and closing the door. “You want this locked?”
“Yes, please.” I head back toward the cold room, where a hundred roses wait to be clipped, taped, and ribboned for tomorrow night’s Spring Fling Festival.
“I have a draft of our proposal too,” he says from behind me. “And I didn’t get my hello kiss.”
I turn to face him just outside Sir Chills-a-Lot and give him a smile. “Thank you for bringing dinner.” I tip my head back to receive his kiss. His lips taste like chocolate and mint, and I hope he brought some of the milk chocolate sandwich mints he loves so much.
Because I love them too.
“Mm, better,” he says as he pulls away. “So what are we doing first?”
“Flowers,” I say, indicating the walk-in cooler. “Then dinner, while we go over the proposal?” I cradle his face in one hand and gaze at him. “Thank you for doing it, Aaron. Really. I know you’re as busy as I am.”
“I just took the pieces you provided and put them together.” Aaron doesn’t take compliments super well, and I tilt my head to the side. He blinks a couple of times. “You’re welcome, Em.”
He rubs his hands together and enters the cold room. “Let’s get these flowers done.”
“I’m going to grab an extra pair of scissors,” I say. “You can cut the flyers after the ribbons.”
“Yep.”
After a quick detour to my check-out counter, I return to Sir Chills and hand the scissors to Aaron. “Do them long enough, so I don’t have to try to tie them with hardly any clearance.”
“Ten inches?”
“Don’t confuse me with numbers, Aaron.” I shoot him a smile. “Just cut them long enough, because my fingers are already going to be cold and tired.” I pick up the thorn stripper and start cleaning the stem on a blood red rose.
I’ll cut the stems down and wrap them with floral tape to preserve them until tomorrow night, when every man who checks in for the Spring Fling will get a rose. The first woman he gives it to is the one who’ll go out on at least one date with him, and hopefully many love connections will be made tomorrow.
Aaron cuts ribbon, and I strip roses, and when I start taping, he starts cutting apart the flyers I picked up at the print shop down the street earlier this morning. I finish the taping and reach for the first ribbon.
“Done,” he says. “I can help tie ribbons.” He picks up a white one, and I quickly take it from him.
“No.”
“No?”
“Aaron, you have amazing hands when it comes to building a deck or mudding a wall. But tying ribbons?” I shake my head. “I don’t want to have to redo them.”
A beat of silence echoes through the cold room, and then he bear hugs me, making it impossible to tie anything. “I have a delicate touch, I’ll have you know.” He rubs his beard against my cheek, which makes me laugh.
“Stop it,” I squeal, and my shoe catches on the rubber mat that cushions the hard floor. “Aaron.” I laugh even as I start to fall, and I grab tight to him, pulling him with me.
I land with a thud on my hip, my giggles turning into a groan as Aaron collapses next to me. He rolls onto his back while I’m still trying to deal with the smarting zing in my hip and leg.
Then he starts to laugh, and he tugs on my hand, pulling me back until we’re both lying on the mats. “Sir Chills has done us dirty,” I say, smiling up to the ceiling.
That makes Aaron laugh harder, and I join my laughter to his, not even caring about the delay in getting the roses done for tomorrow night’s event.
The following evening, I stand at the check-in table, wearing one of Lizzie’s wrap sweater dresses, despite the fact that the calendar has just flipped to May. “Flowers here,” I say, holding out the basket with the red roses.
Behind me, Pixie and Piper hand out the swag bags, where my shop flyers went. All men are going in on my side of the Lion’s Club, and the women are going in the east doors. They then converge in the lobby, where there’s a single table that Aaron’s manning by himself.
This gives everyone a chance to mingle and talk before the organized events take place, and the dull roar of chatter and elevator music combine behind me into a low buzzing headache in the back of my skull.
I just want to go home, get out of this dress, and lay in Aaron’s arms while I snack on a pancake. A couple more hours, and I’ll be able to do that.
Oh, wait, I have an entire wedding’s worth of flowers to organize and arrange in the next three days. And a shop to run.
“Sir,” I say as a man walks by me without taking a rose. “You’ll need a flower if you want to…” I trail off as I come face-to-face with Stewart Lipski, the chemist who broke Lizzie’s heart last Halloween.
“Are the flowers mandatory?”
I glare at him, remembering how he ghosted Lizzie, how she said he only wanted to be a casual dater. “Yes,” I clip out at him. “If you’re not interested in setting something up with someone, then just leave.”
“Hey, I paid to be here.”
“This isn’t a way to meet women,” I say.
Stewart’s perfectly plucked eyebrows go up. “Really? I thought that’s exactly what this is.”
“Stewart,” I say with plenty of disdain in my voice. “You have to take a flower and at least pretend like you want a girlfriend for longer than a weekend.” I cock one eyebrow at him. “Or a Halloween party.”
I see the moment he realizes I know what went down between him and Lizzie. He must not have known her well at all if he thought she wouldn’t tell her roommates. Then Stewart’s arrogance slides back across his face, and he really is a Doberman bad boy that breaks women’s hearts.
Like Tucker.
“If you don’t take a flower, I can’t let you in.”
“Is there a problem here?” Aaron’s smooth customer service voice makes me turn and look at him.
“This gentleman doesn’t want a rose,” I say, my teeth practically glued together.
Aaron frowns. “If you don’t present a rose to a woman, then you don’t get her name or number.”
“No names or numbers?” Stewart sighs and reaches his horrible, chemically hand into the basket and takes a rose. “Fine. ”
“Hey,” I say as a petal sheds from one of the roses still in the basket. “You don’t need to be so grabby.”
Stewart doesn’t even answer me as he continues through the doorway leading into the foyer.
“Former boyfriend of yours?” Aaron asks, his hand heavy on my hip.
I hold out the basket for the next man who approaches. Once he’s gone, I shake my head. “No, he went out with Lizzie once. Well, that’s a generous way of putting it. They snuck off from the Halloween party last year. Remember that?”
“The party? Sure.” Aaron steps back and then leans in close, his lips practically tickling the soft skin on my neck. “Have I told you how amazing you look in that dress?”
I smile and hold out the basket for the next gentleman who comes past. Once he’s gone, I duck my head and whisper, “And yet, I can’t wait to get out of it.”
Aaron chuckles and asks, “Are we still on for a late dinner and falling asleep after we pretend like we’ll stay awake and watch a movie?”
“Absolutely,” I say. “And don’t forget. You said you could help me tomorrow night after you get done at the store.”
“Em, you’re the forgetful one,” he says. “I count down the minutes every day until I can see you in the evening.” Then he goes through the door and into the foyer too, leaving me feeling warm and strong and sexy in this non-summer sweater dress.