Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
Brynn
“Why do you need to go to school early?” I ask Olivia as the car carries us down the driveway.
“I don’t.” She shrugs. “I mean, I can get there early, but I only said that so you’d let Mr. Jack clean up.”
My mouth drops open in shock as I turn to look at my daughter. “Why would you lie?”
“It’s not a complete lie,” she says quickly. “Besides, you barely sleep. You’re the first one up in the morning and the last one to go to bed. You’re constantly doing stuff for everyone else, and you’re just…so independent that you won’t let anyone else help you. Mr. Jack was just trying to help.”
I drum my fingers against the steering wheel as I let her words settle over me. It’s pretty eye-opening to hear your twelve-year-old say these things to you.
“No, he’s trying to take over because he doesn’t think that I’m capable…”
She blows out a breath and leans forward, shaking her head. “He’s just being nice. He doesn’t think you’re incapable of anything.”
I sigh inwardly.
Maybe she’s right, but how dare he think he can walk in here and upend everything I’ve worked so hard to do?
How dare he think he can come in here and kiss me like that, too.
“I don’t know that you’re right, and I don’t like that you lied, but I do appreciate that you are trying to help.”
“Just give him a chance to help,” she says softly.
I nod, and we continue our drive into town. My daughter is extremely wise for her age. Sometimes, I feel really guilty about that, too. She’s seen things no child should ever have to see, but she’s also been forced to grow up faster than most girls her age because of those things.
“Mama?” Olivia asked as she came into the kitchen carrying her favorite stuffed unicorn and wiping the sleep out of her eyes. “I…I heard glass breaking.”
“Go back to bed now, you little brat!” Clay had screamed at her.
He lunged for her, and I moved so quickly to intercept her. I grabbed her up in my arms, thinking that he wouldn’t attack me while I was holding her, but I was wrong. He swung at me, I ducked, and Olivia and I both went down.
He tried to get to her, screaming, “You’re a dumb bitch, and I won’t allow my daughter near you!”
I did everything I could to get away when I was finally able to run out the door with my daughter. If it hadn’t been for the owner of the rodeo show walking by at the same time, I don’t know what would have happened to us.
Lost in my thoughts, I drop Olivia off at school and then drive the short distance to my flower shop.
I unlock the back door and push it open, balancing my oversized tote and a fresh cup of coffee in one hand while fumbling with the keys in the other.
The morning light streams through the front windows, catching on the rows of vases and pots that line the shelves, making them glint like little jewels.
I step inside and take a deep breath. The familiar scent of roses, eucalyptus, and freshly cut stems washes over me, and for a moment, I forget the stress of the morning. Just as quickly as I do, the feel of Jack’s mouth against mine comes crashing into my head.
My entire body heats up, warmth pulling between my thighs. I shake my head and set my coffee down on the counter.
No. I’m not doing this right now.
The shop is quiet, but it won’t stay that way for long.
Hicks Creek might be small, but people here love their flowers.
Weddings, birthdays, funerals—there’s always something to celebrate or mourn.
And even though running a small business in a town like this isn’t easy, I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
I grab my apron from the hook on the wall and tie it around my waist, the motion as familiar as breathing.
The to-do list I scrawled on a sticky note last night is waiting for me by the register.
Three arrangements for the church luncheon, a birthday bouquet for Mrs. Callahan, and a dozen wrapped roses for Garrett to take to Maya.
I smile to myself as I pull the first bucket of flowers from the cooler.
Mrs. Callahan always insists on sunflowers for her birthday, and I love how they brighten up the shop with their golden faces.
I get to work trimming stems and arranging them in a cheerful ceramic vase, my hands moving on autopilot.
But no matter how hard I try, I can’t keep my mind from wandering back to Jack.
The way his mouth felt on mine. The heat of his body pressed against me. The way his hands—rough from years of ranch work—were surprisingly gentle.
I stab a sunflower into the foam a little harder than necessary.
“Stop it,” I mutter under my breath. “You don’t even like him.”
Which is true. Or at least, it should be true. Jack is arrogant, cocky, and infuriating. The kind of man who thinks he can tell me what to do just because he’s got a slow drawl and a cowboy hat. And yet…
I sigh and step back from the arrangement, tilting my head to study it. It’s not quite right. I pull out a stem of baby’s breath and replace it with a sprig of eucalyptus, the soft scent filling the air.
That’s better.
The bell above the door jingles, and I glance up to see Mrs. Callahan herself bustling in, her gray hair tucked under a wide-brimmed hat.
“Morning, Brynn!” she calls, her voice as warm as ever.
“Morning, Mrs. Callahan. You’re here early.”
“Couldn’t wait to see what you whipped up for me this year.”
I grin and carry the arrangement over to her. “What do you think?”
Her face lights up as she takes it in. “Oh, Brynn, it’s perfect. You always know just what I like.”
Moments like this make all the stress worth it. Seeing the joy on her face, knowing I’ve made her day a little brighter—it’s why I do what I do.
You coming by for lunch?
Rachel asks in a text message. My best friend owns the café in town and I’m there for lunch almost every day. I immediately reply with a yes before putting my phone down and finishing up my work.
By lunchtime, I’ve finished the rest of the morning orders and swept the shop floor twice. The cooler hums softly in the background, and the faint strains of country music play from the radio on the counter.
The bell jingles again, and I look up to see Tabby, my part-time employee, breezing in.
“Hey, boss!” she says, hanging her bag on the hook by the door.
“Hey, Tabby. You’re just in time. I’m heading out for a bit.”
“Take your time. I’ve got this.”
I grab my bag and head out the door, the fresh air a welcome change after the stuffy shop. The café is only a block away, and the walk gives me a chance to clear my head. Or at least, it would if Jack didn’t keep sneaking back in.
By the time I push open the door to Rachel’s café, I’m thoroughly annoyed with myself.
“Brynn!” Rachel calls from behind the counter. “You look like you need a cinnamon roll and a vent session.”
I laugh despite myself. “You’re not wrong.”
Rachel grins and grabs a plate, sliding a cinnamon roll the size of my head onto it. She knows me too well. The smell of warm cinnamon and sugar wafts up as she sets it on the counter in front of me.
“Coffee?” she asks, already reaching for a mug.
“Please. The strongest you’ve got.”
I settle onto one of the stools at the counter and take a bite of the cinnamon roll, the sweet, buttery flavor melting on my tongue. Rachel leans against the counter, watching me with a knowing look.
“All right, spill. What’s got you looking like you’re about to implode?”
I hesitate, debating how much to tell her. Rachel’s my best friend, but the town of Hicks Creek is always listening. Still, she’s not the type to let me off the hook.
“Our new ranch manager is infuriating.”
“What’d he do?”
“Nothing.” I sigh. “Everything. I don’t know. He fired Lane. He kissed me.”
Rachel’s eyes go wide, and then a slow grin spreads across her face. “Oh, this is good. Go on.”
“It’s not good,” I groan, dropping my head into my hands. “It’s a disaster. He’s arrogant, infuriating, and completely off-limits.”
“And yet, here you are, blushing like a teenager.”
I glare at her, but she just laughs.
“It’s not funny, Rachel. The last thing I need is to get tangled up with someone like him.”
She tilts her head, studying me. “Maybe. But the way you’re talking, it sounds like you already are.”
I don’t respond, because what can I say? She’s not wrong. No matter how much I try to convince myself that he is the last man I’d ever want, I can’t seem to get him out of my head.
The bell above the café door jingles, and we both glance up as a group of teenagers strolls in, laughing and jostling each other. Rachel straightens up, giving me a knowing look.
“We’re not done talking about this,” she says, pointing a finger at me.
“Looking forward to it,” I mutter, but I can’t help smiling as I finish off the cinnamon roll.