11. Amelia
Chapter eleven
Amelia
I was in the middle of a particularly dramatic peony arrangement for a customer when my phone started to ring. Trevor's name flashed insistently on the screen. Part of me wanted to ignore it, still smarting from yesterday's Liam-induced tantrum, but curiosity—and maybe a smidge of lingering feelings won out.
"Amelia!" Trevor's voice crackled through the speaker, high-pitched and panicked. "Hero's gone AWOL. I've turned the park upside down. I can’t find him anywhere. I need your help!"
My annoyance with Trevor evaporated faster than spilled water on a hot sidewalk. Hero was missing. That fuzzy little troublemaker had somehow wormed his way into my heart.
“I'm on my way," I said, already flipping the 'Open' sign to 'Closed.' "Five minutes, tops. I'll post online to see if anyone's spotted him."
As I power-walked to the park, my mind raced faster than my feet. How had that little ball of fur become so important to me? And Trevor... well, that was a whole other can of worms. Yesterday's green-eyed monster moment had me wondering if he'd really changed.
I spotted Trevor by the park entrance, looking like a deflated balloon. "Any sign of our escape artist?"
Trevor shook his head, his puppy-dog eyes clouded with worry. "Nothing. I've checked all his favorite spots twice."
"Okay," I said, trying to sound calm. "Let's split up. I'll go through the park and circle back to the shop. You backtrack and check the playground area."
We spread out, weaving through the winding paths and groves of the park. "Hero!" I called out, my voice echoing off the trees. "Come on, buddy! There's a lifetime supply of belly rubs with your name on it!"
An hour later, I found Trevor slumped on a bench in front of the shop. His head in his hands, shoulders hunched in defeat. My heart clenched at the sight. I'd never seen him look so broken, so lost.
"Trevor?" I sat beside him. "Any luck?"
He shook his head, not meeting my gaze. "I'm sorry, Amelia. For everything. The way I acted with Liam, the jealousy... it was out of line."
Part of me wanted to dive headfirst into that conversation, demanding explanations and apologies with PowerPoint presentations and footnotes.
But one look at Trevor's face, and I knew now wasn't the time for our own personal episode of Dr. Phil.
"We'll have plenty of time for heart-to-hearts later," I squeezed his arm. "Right now, let's focus on finding Hero. He needs us."
Trevor nodded, dragging a hand down his face. "You're right. I just... I can't lose him. He's more than just a dog to me."
"I know." I squeezed his arm, offering what comfort I could. "We'll find him, Trevor. I promise."
He was quiet for a long moment, staring off into the distance. When he spoke again, his voice was soft, almost hesitant. "You know, back in high school, when I was going through some rough times, I got assigned community service at an animal shelter."
I stayed quiet, sensing this was one of those moments where silence spoke volumes.
"I was angry at the world, at myself. But there was this one Chihuahua they had named Taco. He'd been abused and abandoned. But despite everything, he still had so much love to give."
A ghost of a smile flickered across Trevor's face like a firefly in the twilight.
"Taco became my tiny, four-legged life coach. He taught me patience and compassion—and gave me a purpose when I felt useless. Leaving him behind when I joined the military... it was like leaving a piece of my heart."
I reached over, threading my fingers through his in silent support.
“When I returned to Rivermint Cove and started volunteering again, Hero was like déjà vu on four paws. One look at him was like the universe hitting the reset button. Second chances all around.”
I swallowed hard, feeling like I'd just glimpsed the real Trevor hiding beneath all that rugged firefighter exterior. Who knew he was hiding a heart softer than a marshmallow in a microwave?
"Trevor, I-"
A bark sliced through the air, freezing us both mid-moment. Our eyes locked, a cocktail of hope and fear swirling between us. Please, I sent a silent prayer: let Hero be safe.
We tore down the pathway, taking turns calling out Hero's name in desperation. The barking grew louder and more frequent, and a note of urgency prompted us to pick up our pace.
It came from Mrs. Landry's backyard, where she famously stored an agony of garden gnomes among her tulips. Her little green shed was slightly ajar, and I could hear scratching on the other side of the door.
"Trevor, over there!" I pointed, and we both sprinted towards the shed. Trevor yanked open the jammed door and out bounded Hero, yapping like he'd just won the doggy lottery.
"Hero!" Trevor scooped up the wriggling Chihuahua, hugging him close. Hero's tail wagged a mile a minute, his little body quivering excitedly as he licked Trevor's face.
"Oh, thank goodness," I breathed, stroking Hero's soft fur. He yipped happily, nuzzling into my hand, and I felt tears prick at the corners of my eyes. "Don't you ever scare us like that again, mister."
Trevor chuckled, still cradling Hero like a furry baby. "Hear that, buddy? You're grounded for life." He clipped on Hero's leash, and our eyes met.
Suddenly, the world faded away like we were in our own little bubble—just us and our four-legged escape artist.
"Amelia," Trevor's voice was rougher than sandpaper, "thank you. For everything."
Before my brain could catch up with my heart, I was on my tiptoes, pressing my lips against Trevor's in a kiss that was both tender and urgent.
Trevor's arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me closer as he deepened the kiss. His lips were soft and warm, moving against mine with a gentle passion that made my knees wobble.
I felt Trevor's thumb gently graze my cheekbone, drawing back slightly only to lean in again, his kiss deepening even further. His touch was electric, and all I cared about was the man standing before me, a man who had shown me a side of…”
Click.
The distinctive sound of a camera shutter broke through our happy little bubble, and we sprang apart like startled rabbits.
There stood Frances, looking like she'd just struck gold. Her camera was aimed at us, and her grin was wider than the Cheshire Cat's.
"Now that's what I call front-page news! Rivermint Cove is going to eat this up!"
Of course, it had to be Frances. The woman had a nose for scandal that would put a bloodhound to shame.
Trevor's face turned redder than a fire truck. "Frances!" He stepped in front of me like a human shield. "Don't you have anything better to do than play paparazzi?"
"Not when there's a scoop this juicy!" Frances's eyes gleamed with mischief. "I came looking for a lost dog story, but this is so much better. The town's most eligible bachelor and the quirky flower shop owner, caught in a passionate embrace!"
"Frances, please," I pleaded, peeking from behind Trevor. "This isn't some trashy tabloid headline. This is my life we're talking about."
Frances shrugged, her excitement undiminished. "All the more reason to share it! This is real life, not some fairytale. And real life isn't always sunshine and daisies." She tapped her camera like it was her prized possession. "Besides, if I only wrote what people wanted to hear, it wouldn't be a gossip blog, now would it?"
Before we could protest further, Frances snapped another picture of our shocked faces and sauntered away, looking like the cat who got the cream.
I couldn't help it. The sheer absurdity of the situation, combined with the lingering buzz from our kiss, sent me into a fit of giggles. Trevor joined in a moment later, his deep chuckles mixing with my laughter until we were both gasping for air like fish out of water.
As we finally caught our breath, reality started to seep back in. We needed to talk about the Liam situation. It wouldn't be a walk in the park, but if we wanted this thing between us to work, we had to face it head-on.
I took a deep breath, choosing my words carefully. Having a confrontation was about as comfortable as trying to wrangle a cactus into a tutu. "Trevor, about what happened with Liam yesterday..."
He tensed, his jaw tightening. "I know, I know. I was out of line."
"You were," I agreed gently. "I appreciate that you want to help with the shop, but how you spoke to Liam was inappropriate. And trying to make decisions for me about my business? That's not okay."
Trevor nodded, his expression contrite. "You're right. I let my jealousy get the best of me, and I overstepped. I'm sorry, Amelia. Truly."
I reached out, taking his hand in mine. "I know you are. And I know you're trying. But if we're going to make this work, we need to trust each other and respect each other. I need a partner who supports me, not someone who tries to control me."
"I understand," Trevor said softly, his fingers tightening around mine. "I want to be that man for you. The one who stands by your side, not in your way. I promise I'll do better."
We walked silently for a moment, the weight of our words settling between us. It felt like progress, though—the kind that comes with growth and understanding.
As we approached the shop, Trevor turned to me, his eyes searching mine. "Thank you for giving me another chance, Amelia. For believing in me, even when I don't always deserve it."
I smiled, reaching up to cup his cheek. "We all deserve second chances, Trevor, as long as we're willing to learn from our mistakes and keep trying. Besides, if I gave up every time someone made a mistake, I'd have fired myself from my shop ages ago."
He chuckled softly, leaning into my touch. When he opened his eyes again, they were filled with a tenderness that made my heart do a little flip.
"Goodnight, Amelia," he murmured, gently kissing my palm.
"Goodnight, Trevor," I whispered back, watching as he and Hero headed up to their apartment.
Alone in the shop, I leaned against the counter, my mind reeling from the day's events. The Great Hero Hunt, the kiss, the conversation with Trevor—it was a lot to process.
But as I thought about it all, one thing became clear as day. My feelings for Trevor had deepened like a weed in miracle-gro. What had started as a spark of attraction had blossomed into something more substantial.
I knew there would be challenges ahead. We were both stubborn, and we each had our own baggage. But I also knew that what we had was worth fighting for, even if it meant occasionally butting heads like two very determined goats.
I set about closing the shop for the night. Tomorrow was a new day, full of promise and possibility—and, knowing Rivermint Cove, probably a healthy dose of small-town drama, too.