Chapter 2
two
. . .
Emilia
“Here you go, Josh,” I said as I handed him the wrapped bundle of pink roses.
“Just so you know, Emilia, these are for my mother,” he said as he looked at me for an uncomfortable amount of time before continuing. “They aren’t for a special lady.”
“Well, thanks for the tidbit,” I said, quickly ringing him up as he held out his card for me to swipe.
Josh Black and I had grown up together, and his family owned the Green Basket grocery store.
He loved to stop in and buy flowers for his mother, which was obviously very sweet, although the awkward explanation every single time made me dread him walking through the door. “Tell your mom I said hello.”
I looked up when the bells chimed, and I saw Bridger Chadwick pull the door open.
What the actual hell.
The bastard had already made a scene in my shop once, and I was in no mood for round two. I had a raging headache from all the tequila shots I’d consumed last night, and I didn’t want to be harassed.
“You could tell her yourself,” Josh said teasingly. “How about the three of us have dinner together this week?”
I needed Josh out of here now. The place was otherwise empty, so if Bridger Chadwick decided to go on a rant, there would be no one here to see it.
“Yeah, yeah, that sounds great. Let me know the details,” I said, hurrying him toward the door.
“Really?” Josh chuckled. “That’s a first. I’ll text you the details.”
Shit. Shit. Shit.
I’d just agreed to dinner with a man who hit on anyone and everyone in town, all in the name of getting him out of here so I could deal with a man I despised.
“Yes. Goodbye, Josh.” I waved hesitantly. He turned and nodded at Bridger, who literally paid him no attention, and after the jingle on the door had ended and Josh was gone, Bridger made his way to the counter.
He was tall and lean, with dark wavy hair clipped close to his head. Scruff peppered his jaw, and he had dark gray eyes that matched his stormy personality.
He was strikingly handsome.
“Wow. Desperate times, huh? Going on a date with that jackass?” he said, his large forearms resting on the counter.
And then he opened his mouth, and all his good looks went out the window.
“None of your business,” I hissed. Josh Black was not a guy most of the locals cared for.
He hit on anything with a pulse, he was cocky as hell, and he’d tripped Jane Waters, the woman who owned Rosewood Brew, a few weeks ago, all so that he could get to the largest pumpkin at the pumpkin patch. He was just… that guy.
But I wasn’t going to give Bridger the pleasure of knowing I was dreading what I’d just agreed to.
My employee, Beatrice, had already left for the day.
I glanced over at the shop next door, Strawberry Fields, which was connected to the Vintage Rose by an opening in the wall.
Melanie Banks owned the place, and she was furious at the scene Bridger had made just days ago, so I was hoping she was keeping an eye out.
Although she was best friends with Bridger’s mother, Ellie Chadwick, so I knew she wouldn’t do anything irrational like I’d suggested.
Break his kneecaps with the baseball bat we kept in the back room, because we played in a softball league in the spring.
Taser him with the stun gun my father had purchased for me when I started running the flower shop.
Pelt him with the paint gun I’d bought just for fun.
“I’m here to discuss the eggs,” he growled. The man’s normal tone was a growl. There was nothing pleasant about his tone, at least not whenever he’d spoken to me. In high school I found it mysterious. I’d had a raging crush on the jerk all four years.
Clearly I was a glutton for punishment back then.
But I wasn’t that girl anymore. I wouldn’t allow this bastard to treat me like I’d committed a crime.
“I don’t have time to discuss the cost of eggs with you,” I said, tipping my chin up as my gaze locked with his. “If you’re here to purchase flowers, please let me know what you’d like. Otherwise, I am asking you to leave.”
He chuckled this gruff, deep sound that came from his chest. “I’m not here to discuss the price of eggs. I’m here to tell you who egged the place.”
“What? How would you know who did it?” I gaped at him, crossing my arms over my chest. “Unless you did it yourself?”
“Yes, Emilia. I have so much time on my hands that I went to the grocery store and then walked over to your shop and chucked a few eggs at your windows.” He stared at me.
“I’m not saying you don’t deserve it—I’m just here to tell you who did it so you can stop whining to my family about me being the reason that it happened. ”
The nerve of this guy.
“You’re serious?”
“Always am,” he said, his voice completely dry and devoid of all emotion.
“Buy something or get out!” I snapped, pointing at the door.
His lips turned up in the corners. It wasn’t a genuine, warm smile. It was a devious smirk that let me know he was enjoying this. He hated me so much that he actually got pleasure out of ruining my day.
“You are the reason that I got egged. You accused me of writing that damn column, and now there are people in this town that don’t like me because of it,” I said, my hands making little fists because the man infuriated me.
“So ultimately, you are the reason you got egged, Emilia.” He held my stare, nostrils flaring just slightly, as he arched a brow.
“You know what, Bridger,” I said, pausing to blow out a breath, “I can’t wait to prove you wrong. I’ll be dropping off said proof in the next couple of days.”
I had something in the works that Henley was helping me with, even if she refused to file a defamation of character suit against him, seeing as she was engaged to his brother.
So I’d settled for option two.
“I won’t hold my breath. I’m not as easy to fool as the rest of my family,” he said, his voice ice cold.
“Well, you are more of a fool than any of the others, so maybe you’re confused.”
“I don’t have time for jokes.”
“Good. I don’t want you in my flower shop, so you can see yourself out.” I pointed at the door again, and his eyes tracked my finger. The very one I’d poked him in the chest with last night.
I hope I left a mark.
He glanced around and then leaned forward, his head coming all the way across the counter. I wasn’t sure if he was going to kiss me or maybe try to bite me in the face. That’s how close he was.
“Cara Carmichael,” he said, his voice low.
“Cara Carmichael—what? Is there a reason you said her name? Are you dating her even though she’s with child by another man?”
He closed his eyes for a few seconds as if he was bored. “She egged your place. It wasn’t me or anyone in my family.”
I stared at him. “I never thought it was you or anyone in your family.”
“Well, then why are you blaming me?”
“Because you’re the reason people are mad at me.” I rubbed my temples with the tips of my fingers.
“Well, I don’t speak to Cara Carmichael. So there you go. Do what you want with the information, but keep my family out of it.”
“It does make sense. Cara Carmichael was recently in ‘The Taylor Tea,’ because she’s having an affair with Harvey, the mailman.
I’m sure you’re more than aware. And obviously she thinks I outed their relationship.
You know, Harvey’s daughter isn’t speaking to him, so obviously she blames me for this now,” I groaned.
Harvey Lawson was almost fifty years old, and though he looked very much like George Clooney and it was easy to see why Cara would fall for the silver fox, the fact that his daughter was Cara’s best friend had made things all sorts of complicated.
“Perhaps you should keep your nose out of people’s business,” he snipped as he walked toward the door.
“Perhaps you should take your own advice.” I moved around my counter and followed him to the door. “Cara was a steady customer, and now that you mention it, she hasn’t been in the flower shop since your little outburst. I should sue you for costing me business.”
“You don’t want to take me on, Emilia.” His gaze hardened as he pushed the door open, and a cool gust of air rushed in. We were nearing the end of November, and it was my favorite time of year—well, before this dark cloud named Bridger Chadwick stopped by to torment me.
“I welcome the challenge. Don’t let the door hit you in the ass, Chadwick.”
He chuckled as he let the door close. I marched back around the corner, picked up my phone, and sent a text to my three besties, Henley, Lulu, and Eloise. Eloise had brought us all together a few months back, but now she was living in the city, and I missed her terribly.
I need that polygraph scheduled sooner rather than later. Your future brother-in-law is relentless.
Henley
I’ve already talked to Doug at the police station, and he said we can get it scheduled this week.
Lulu
Wow. You’re really doing this. Can I come with?
Of course. Anyone is welcome. I have nothing to hide.
Eloise
Whaaattt? You’re really doing it? Why do I have to miss all the fun?
I’ll happily send you the results. Also, I know who egged the flower shop.
Henley
Tell me it wasn’t Bridger.
It was Cara freaking Carmichael.
Lulu
Wait. Isn’t she very pregnant at the moment?
Yep.
Eloise
A pregnant woman with a carton of eggs, pelted your flower shop?
Henley
Are we sure?
Bridger said he has proof. He stopped in to let me know it was her, so I could stop whining to his family about him being the reason I got egged.
Lulu
But if it was Cara, then Bridger is the reason because he told everyone that you were the anonymous author of the column.
Exactly. He doesn’t see it that way.
Eloise
How can he not see it that way? He made a scene and now people think it’s you.
Henley
Bridger thinks she’s guilty, so he doesn’t think he’s at fault.
Lulu
Looks like it’s time for a polygraph.
I’m more than ready to clear my name.
I was done being harassed by the oldest Chadwick brother.
If he wanted proof, that’s exactly what he was going to get.