Chapter 3
Rowan
“Finn’s here.” Willa’s voice floats from the front of the shop, cheerful as she waves out the big storefront window of Salt & Root.
I lift my head from the counter and pause for a breath, letting my gaze drift across the space I built with my own two hands.
The morning sunlight pours through the glass, soft and golden, warming the wooden floorboards I helped sand myself.
The shelves along the far wall are lined with amber bottles and glass jars, each labeled in my handwriting.
Lavender buds. Rose hips. Wild honey. Dried orange peel.
The air smells like bergamot, vanilla, and eucalyptus.
The counter behind me is cluttered in the way I like it.
A stack of worksheets from my last workshop.
A bowl of citrine I put out for “prosperity” even though I know half the customers only come in because they think the crystals are pretty.
Freshly poured lotion cooling in ceramic jars.
Tea blends waiting to be packed into brown paper bags.
Every piece of it is a little part of me.
Hours of stirring and measuring and testing.
Late nights at this very counter with a cup of chamomile while I tried to believe I could actually make this dream work.
Salt & Root is small, but it feels alive. It’s my special place.
I hear the familiar sound of Finn’s boots outside the door. Heavy, warm, steady. The kind of footsteps that make the floor feel grounded beneath me.
I straighten, suddenly aware of the smudge of dried calendula oil on my wrist and the way my braid is slipping loose. My heartbeat changes. Not faster, just deeper, like it knows him before my mind catches up.
The bell over the door jingles, and the air shifts. It always does when he walks in. Like Salt & Root inhales at the exact same time I do.
Finn steps inside, bringing the smell of cedar and a blast of warm air with him. For a second the shop feels even more like home.
Suddenly the music in the shop changes, and I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For plays over the Bluetooth speaker.
I snort because that little shit hooked his phone up to my speaker system.
He sets down a pizza box, then breaks into a performance of him dancing and then singing into his fist like it’s his imaginary microphone.
He dances around the shop, sidling up to me, singing, bumping his hip into mine.
He leans back against the counter, and still sings to the song, making me laugh even harder.
Willa laughs from the doorway between our shops and dances to the music, singing along. Finn dances over to her and sings to her as well. Both give it an all-star performance.
“You’re both ridiculous.” I shake my head. But I secretly love it.
I put my hands on my hips over my shop apron and shake my head, trying not to giggle. He does this to make me laugh, putting on these pretend performances. I don’t think he cares at all that people can see us and that he looks ridiculous.
He stops performing and leans against the counter. “How was your date with the fossil? Did he tell you stories about the Great Depression?”
“Finn,” I warn but crack up laughing.
He holds up his hands. “Hey, Grandpa Honeysuckle might have it going on. What do I know?”
“How was your date?” I ask as I turn the questioning back to him.
Tom was a very nice widow who didn’t quite understand how the dating app worked.
He was thrilled he got to go to dinner with someone young and fun to talk to about his family with.
The man was sweet as pie and we made plans to go out as friends again.
He said he doesn’t see his family very often because most of them are scattered around the country.
Tom was interesting and loves gardening.
We talked a lot about plants, and he had some great tips for me.
His profile photo that he used on the app was over twenty years old, which still makes me laugh that I fell for it.
But as far as dates go, he was a super nice fella.
“Oh, no. We’re still talking about your silver fox special.”
“Are you done with the jokes, yet?” I snort laugh.
“Not even close.” Finn shrugs, scooting the pizza box closer to me.
I reach over and pull out a cold slice and take a bite, moaning with delight.
Marco’s the day after, and cold, might be the second-best thing to hot and fresh out of the wood fire.
Finn watches me with an unreadable expression.
Last night I got the pasta, and I didn’t have leftovers to take home. Finn is the best for thinking about me.
“That’s gross,” Willa says as she shudders. “Who eats cold pizza like that? At least let me make you a breakfast sandwich that’s warm.”
I shrug, enjoying it and not caring. “I’m good.” I didn’t realize how hungry I was. Lunch isn’t for a few more hours and the shop’s been so busy this morning.
Finn flips through the new tea blends I’ve been sorting.
“What’s he talking about, anyway? Who did you go on a date with?” Willa gives me a confused look.
I look at Finn and mutter, “Big mouth.”
Finn practically cackles. “She had a distinguished gentleman caller.”
“Stop it,” I clip, but giggle.
“Row, he probably has loafers older than me.”
“I’m going to kill you.” I shake my head at him, continuing to enjoy my cold pizza.
“Nah, you won’t. Who’ll bring you cold pizza and grease your back door so it won’t squeak?” he says as he roots around behind the counter and produces a can of WD-40 before heading over to spray the back door.
“Now I won’t know when people come in. The squeak was the warning,” I protest.
He shakes his head at me and sprays the door hinges on both sides.
“Thank God. The squeaky sound was so annoying,” Willa says. “Thanks, Finn!”
He smirks my way. “At least someone appreciates me.”
“I appreciate you and your pizza very much,” I say as I take another piece out of the box. Breakfast of champions.
He turns to the sink to wash his hands. “Did he at least pay?”
“Of course he did.”
“Bet he had to write a check.”
I laugh so hard my stomach hurts. “You’re the worst.”
“Wrong,” he says with a shrug. “Baby, I’m the best.”
We won’t talk about the way my stomach dips when he calls me baby.
“And what about you?” I ask. “How was your date? Did Miss Influencer get enough selfies for her social media?”
His mouth twitches. “You know exactly how that went.”
“Boring?”
“Worse. She tried to speak Italian to Bart.”
“Maybe she’s cultured.”
He nods, “She was something.”
I snort. “Okay, fine. I’m sorry your night wasn’t as exciting as mine.”
I’m actually not sorry at all.
He grins, that slow, easy one that makes something in my chest twist. “It’s not that it wasn’t exciting. It just reminded me of what I don’t want and reminded me of what I do.”
I don’t ask what that means because I’m too busy pretending I don’t care.
I sigh and reach for my planner to look over my to-do list for today.
I’m so overwhelmed. “I’m not sure I can get away for lunch today.
I’ve got orders to pack and a wholesale shipment to finish.
And only three hours to get it all done.
Then, this weekend, I have to work on my plants when my part time help arrives. ”
He shrugs. “That’s fine. I’ll grab sandwiches for us.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“Didn’t say I had to. Said I wanted to. See you at lunch. Bye, Willa.” He waves to us and heads out to the front porch.
“Bye!” Willa calls from the bookstore side of our businesses. There’s a doorway between us that we keep open so we can help each other out.
And that’s Finn. Blowing in here like a tornado, making me laugh so hard it hurts.
He makes it feel lighter, more fun, and thinks about me.
Like bringing me his leftover cold pizza.
Might be gross or dumb to some, but the fact that he thinks of me like that means everything to me.
He pays attention to everything I like and don’t.
Once, I caught him with a whole list on his phone of my favorite foods and the ones I dislike.
He shrugged it off like it was no big deal, but no one has ever done anything like that for me before.
“Why are you going on dates with a grandpa?” Willa asks as she brings me a steaming latte with a plant design in the foam.
“That’s so pretty,” I say, hoping to change the subject. “Thank you.”
“Uh uh, I know what you’re doing.” Willa places her hands on her hips and waits for me to answer.
“Finn and I both had dates last night at Marco’s. He was giving me shit about my date, who happened to be an older man.” I shrug as if it’s no big deal.
“You guys are so weird. Why you’re fighting this, I’ll never understand.” Willa shakes her head and sits on a tall stool at my counter.
“We have been over this,” I say, waving her off like the whole thing is ridiculous, even though my stomach twists.
“Finn is my best friend. Why would I mess that up?” I try to sound light, teasing.
“Do you know how hard it is to find a best friend who brings you his cold pizza leftovers from his date the night before? I am telling you… no one.”
The joke slips out easily, but it covers the truth sitting heavy in my chest. Finn is not just my best friend.
He’s my anchor, and the person who shows up at my door on the nights I can’t breathe.
The one who fixes shelves without being asked and the one who steadies me when my world leans sideways.
Losing him would break something in me I couldn’t put back together.
And under all of it, there’s that other fear.
The one I never say out loud. That I would ruin everything if I reached for more.
That I would take this beautiful, quiet, safe thing we have built and light it on fire with my own clumsy hands.
What if he doesn’t want me the way I want him?
What if I’m not enough? What if love is something I’m not built for, no matter how badly I want to pretend I am?