15. Nick
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
NICK
I’d planned to set up a whole extravagant date night for my first real date with Izzy. I was going to use multiple days to prepare it. Go completely over the top.
But somehow, this woman broke down all my carefully constructed plans with a croissant and a smile.
It won’t be exactly as I’d dreamed, but at least we’ll have some time alone.
By the time I’m done working, I have just two hours to craft a first date that will knock her off her feet.
My first stop is to Wolfsbane, Dane’s flower shop. He inherited it from his mother when she retired, and the man has a hell of a green thumb.
I open the door, and the chime above twinkles just like Izzy’s laugh. Ever since I was a kid, I’ve loved that specific windchime. Maybe that was because of Izzy all along.
“Nick!” Dane’s face lights up. Probably the least hairy werewolf I’ve ever met, to be honest, with his slightly bushy eyebrows and clean-shaven chin. “What the fuck are you doing here? It’s good to see you.”
We clasp hands as I approach, and it turns into a quick hug. “Good to see you too, man. I need some flowers.”
Dane crosses his arms. “You need flowers?”
“I have a date.”
“You have a date?” He raises an eyebrow.
“With my mate.”
“With your mate?”
“I love you, brother, but you’re going to have to stop repeating me at some point.”
A forced smile cracks onto his face until discomfort fills the space between us. “That’s insane. You met your mate? Really?”
We’ve always been the mate-less best friends, and I guess I didn’t think about how finding my mate first would make him feel. I’m not sure how I would’ve responded had the roles been reversed.
“Build a bouquet and I’ll tell you the story.” His forced excitement concerns me, but I have to stay focused. I only have—I risk a glance at my phone—an hour and forty minutes now.
“You know there’s a language to flowers, right? I need to know what you want these flowers to say.” He throws his hands up in exasperation. “I need some direction!”
I rub my temples. “I forgot why I don’t buy flowers from you. You’re exhausting.”
“You don’t buy flowers from me because you’ve never needed them before. And you’re here because you want to do it right.”
I take a deep breath, inhaling the scent of the orchids next to me. “Her name is Isabella. She arrived here a little over a week ago because Vale hired her to coordinate the seventy-fifth anniversary event.”
He nods, eyes trained on his wall of flowers as he taps his finger against his chin. Different types and colors line the space in little tin buckets, ready for people to pick up and build their own bouquets.
Although no townie does that, everyone knows no one builds a better bouquet than Dane.
“She’s intelligent, caring, empathetic, organized, funny.
She gets along well with Georgie but doesn’t have as much chaotic energy.
She’s grounding…safe. Beautiful.” I can practically see her standing next to me in my mind’s eye—a kind smile on her perfect face.
High cheekbones and green eyes full of the serenity of the forest. “She’s home. ”
“Take into account that I am more well-versed in Victorian flower language than other cultures.” He lifts a branch with large leaves and clusters of white, sparkling starburst flowers. “May I suggest Angelica? It represents inspiration. As in, she inspires you.”
I nod, inspecting the clusters. “Yeah, that sounds right.”
“I have other ideas, but I don’t want to do too much; the message gets muddled.
However, I’d like to include Calla Lily, for beauty.
And Pink Camellia, which tells her how much you long for her…
” he trails off, picking random flowers from the buckets.
Temporarily distracted from his own emotions by his love of flowers.
“Do you intend to declare yourself?” he finally asks, meeting my gaze.
I cock my head. “Do I intend to do what?”
“Idiot,” he sighs. “Do you intend to declare your love for her?”
I scrub my hand over my face. Part of me does love her already—my wolf certainly does. But this is a first date, and I’ve been working so hard not to scare her. Not to push her too hard or too far.
“No. It’s a first date, and no matter my own feelings, she deserves to set the pace for us.”
He smiles, something genuine now, eyes softening. “I’m glad you found her, Nick.”
I walk over to his side and place my hand on his shoulder. “If it can happen for me, it can happen for you.”
He turns away, not allowing me to see the emotion on his face. We used to talk about finding our mates when we were kids. Talk about how we would whisk them away with our superb flirting skills. We’ve grown up a lot since then, but my feelings never changed.
I wouldn’t be surprised if Dane’s didn’t either.
“Angelica for inspiration, Bluebell to humble yourself before her, Calla Lily for beauty, and Pink Camellia to show your longing for her.” He places the flowers together, fluffing them until the bouquet is fresh and voluminous. “Come with me while I wrap them.”
I follow him to his small counter, where he grabs some fresh tissue paper and ties them off with a bow.
“Thank you, Dane.” I attempt to pull my phone out to pay, but he growls at the action.
“Go attend to your mate,” he says, practically pushing me out of his shop.
I may have completed my first task, but there are more surprises left for me to set up. And I still have to shower.
I put my head down and get going. This is going to be the best first date Isabella Gregory has ever had.
And the last.