Chapter 2
Izzy sat as still as a cactus on a warm summer day as the doctor looked Mitch over.
"I think you can go home if you promise to wear the banding around your ribs and take it easy."
Mitch grunted. "I'll take it easy."
"And wear the banding."
"Yes." He let out a breath. She got the feeling he didn't like taking orders. Or following them.
The doctor turned to her and nodded. "Nice meeting you, Izzy."
"It's nice meeting you, too, Doctor." She'd already forgotten his name.
Her mind had been in a thousand places as he walked into the room and introduced himself.
The nurse had handed her a writing pad and pen, and Mitch instructed her to sit quietly and think of the orders she had at the shop that needed to be fulfilled.
She was grateful for this. And she did need to be organized in her approach to customers.
She didn't want to scare them. She wanted them to know that somehow she was going to make sure they received what they'd ordered.
Right now, she wasn't sure how that was going to happen, but come hell or high water, it was.
The nurse removed Mitch's IV and the tape that held the wires from the machines. She glanced up once in a while to make sure he wasn't waiting for her. This time, however, when she looked up, he sat on the edge of the bed. The nurse nodded, "I'll step out of the room while you put your shirt on."
Mitch nodded. He lifted his arms to untie the smock they had on him, and he groaned. Izzy jumped up, "Let me help you with that."
She stood before him, reached her arms around his shoulders, and pulled the string to untie his smock. Her cheeks burned hot as she realized how close she was to him. She also realized, she likely smelled horrible after the day she'd had.
She stepped back quickly and turned to the locker across the room. "Is your shirt in here?"
She felt silly and uncomfortable and slightly enamored with the breadth of Mitch's shoulders and the masculine figure he made sitting before her on the bed. She certainly was a mess today.
"I don't know where they put it." He mumbled.
She opened the locker to see a shirt hanging on a hook, looking worse for wear. There were tears in it, blood on it, and it was dirty. "You can't put this on."
She pulled it out and held it up. She peered through a hole and saw him on the other side.
"It's just till I get home."
"No. I'll be right back."
She stepped quickly from the room and hustled to the gift shop. She could buy him a shirt. It was the least she could do. And she needed to expel some energy anyway.
She navigated the hospital corridors and the elevator to make it to the gift shop. Inside, she found a bright blue t-shirt with a palm tree on it. Across the top of the palm tree, it said, "Blossom Springs, Florida." It would have to do.
She paid more than it was worth, which was typical in hospital gift shops, and hurried back to Mitch's room. Inside, the nurse was giving Mitch his discharge instructions. He looked up when she entered the room, and she smiled. "Here's your shirt."
She handed it over with a grin. He looked at the front of the shirt and smiled. "Perfect."
He groaned slightly as he lifted it over his head, and she rushed to help him. "Here, I can do this." She helped him pull the shirt over his head after he managed to get his arms in the right place, and pulled it down his back. Her fingers grazed his warm skin, and her cheeks burned once more.
As soon as he was pronounced discharged, the nurse brought the wheelchair to the room. "I don't need to be pushed in a wheelchair."
"It's hospital policy."
"I can walk. Why isn't the policy to let people who can walk, walk?"
The poor nurse, who probably heard this all the time, replied, "I don't make the policy."
A friendly face entered the room. "Mitch, I just heard you were here. How are you, buddy?"
Mitch looked into Mason Thompson's smiling face. "Hey, Doc. I'm fine. A cracked rib and a lump on the back of my head. It's all good."
Mason nodded and glanced at her. "Izzy, are you alright?"
Her cheeks heated, she knew she likely looked simply horrible.
"I'm better than I look, I guess." A flood of worry assaulted her as Mason brought back the fact that she had customers who needed their flowers.
She'd done the flowers for Mason and Carley's wedding just a few months ago.
She struggled to get her breath as the overwhelm covered her like a blanket.
"You actually look like you need to sit down."
Izzy shook her head. "I'm fine. I really need to be making phone calls and arrangements, that's all."
Mason nodded. "If you need anything, Carley and I can help."
She nodded. "Thank you, Mason."
Mitch's voice was gruff when he said, "I need to contact the hotel owner and get the footage from their place."
Mason nodded. "Yeah. The sooner we find out who did this, the better for everyone. Do you need any assistance?"
"Not yet, but I'll let you know."
She took some slow, calming breaths and closed her eyes for a moment. She would get through this. It would be all right in the end. She couldn't let her father’s years of work and toil be lost. Plus, it could have hurt others in the process, which would be hard to overcome.
"Hey." Mitch's voice was soft and raspy. It was actually sexy when he spoke softly. Her eyes flew open and stared into his deep brown eyes.
"You okay?"
Her nose tickled as the threat of tears raged forward from his concern. She sniffed lightly and swallowed the lump in her throat. "Yeah."
He frowned slightly, then nodded. "Let's get out of here, okay?"
"Yeah." She remembered Mason's kind offer of help and turned to see him watching her. "Thank you, Mason. I do appreciate it."
Mason nodded. "I meant it. Let us know."
She nodded and followed the nurse pushing a complaining Mitch in the wheelchair.
Outside, her cheeks grew hotter than the fire that ripped through her sweet little shop. Her pink Petal Pushers’ van was the only transportation she had here to take Mitch home in. She unlocked the van with the key fob, then turned to see him grinning.
"I'm sorry. I had the keys handy for the delivery van and rushed here as soon as the police let me go."
He shook his head slowly. "Don't apologize. I've never ridden in a floral delivery van, so it's a first."
The nurse locked the wheels on the wheelchair and offered to help Mitch stand, which he refused.
The stubborn man slowly stood, his jaw clenched tightly as he took a step toward her van.
She stood helplessly by as he mulishly managed to seat himself stiffly in the passenger seat of her van.
The nurse closed the door and nodded to her. "Call if you need help."
"Thank you. I will."
She moved toward the driver's seat, realizing for the first time that she was a bit sore herself. Nothing like Mitch, of course, but the day's activities were taking their toll.
She started her van and turned her head toward Mitch. "Where do I take you?"
Mitch grinned. "I live in a condo at the Barracks."
"Oh. That's cool."
She put her van in drive and slowly pulled out of the parking lot.
She was careful not to jostle Mitch too much; he had to be sore with a cracked rib.
After turning right out of the parking lot, she slowly drove toward Main Street.
She felt like she could run faster than she was going.
But Mitch's comfort was more important than her getting her customer list prepared.
She had to keep reminding herself of this.
After a few minutes, Mitch said, "I won't break. You can at least go the speed limit."
"I'm being careful."
"And I do appreciate it, but this is more painful than hitting a bump or two."
She scrunched her nose up, then took a deep breath. "Okay." She sped up to the speed limit, which on this road was thirty miles per hour. Her stress level came down a bit; more to be grateful for.
They pulled into the lot at the Barrack's Condos, and he pointed to a spot toward the end. "I usually park there."
She navigated the lot and parked her van. She quickly hopped from the van and rushed around to the passenger side to help Mitch out.
He had the door open and one foot out of the van when she rounded the side.
She stood by helplessly as he scooted and maneuvered himself from the seat.
As he began walking toward the door, she was unsure if she should follow him or just go home.
She bit her bottom lip as she watched him walk stiffly to the entrance.
Then she heard him say, "You coming in?"
"Yes." She shook her head and followed him inside.
Two pool tables were in a common room. There was a long counter and a microwave on it.
Some food racks with popcorn bags, packets of salt and pepper, and a few other items were lined up on top.
He continued down the hallway. At the end of the hall, he pulled his keys from his slacks pocket and unlocked the door.
He pushed it open and stood back to let her enter first.
She stepped into a clean, neatly decorated living room. The large glass window to her left called to her, and as she looked out, she was amazed to see the length of Main Street in front of her.
"What a great view."
"I know. It's what drew me to this place. It also drew Mason here. I bought this from him when he moved in with Carley."
"That's nice." She turned, and the open concept room allowed her to see into the kitchen. With a groan, Mitch sat at the table to the right. His laptop and a small work area were set up near the end.
"If you need something to drink, please help yourself in the fridge."
Moving into the kitchen, she opened the refrigerator and pulled out two bottles of water. She twisted the cap on one, then the other, and took them to the table.
He winced as he leaned over his laptop. He looked pale, tight-lipped, clearly in pain, but stubbornly ignoring it. The soft blue light from the screen washed over his face, highlighting the dark shadows under his eyes.
She swallowed hard, folding her arms as a knot tightened in her stomach. "You should be in bed."
"Could say the same about you," Mitch replied, eyes fixed on the video footage.
He was right. She needed a nap and a hot bath. But her mind wouldn’t shut off. Images of her ruined nursery, scorched stems, and shattered windows wouldn’t stop looping. Not to mention the guilt.
"I keep thinking about everything," she admitted, moving closer. "The orders I’m going to miss. My dad’s legacy. It’s all just... falling apart."
Mitch didn’t respond right away. Instead, he tapped a few keys and paused a frame. "See that? Someone is moving through the alley. Hood up, face down. Timing’s too perfect to be a coincidence."
Izzy squinted. The screen showed a blurry figure barely distinguishable from the surrounding shadows. Her skin prickled.
"That’s who did it?"
"Don’t know yet. But they were there right before the blast. That’s not nothing."
"How do you have that footage?"
"It's from the hotel owners. I texted them on the way home."
"Oh, right."
She took a shaky breath, her fingers twisting together. "I should’ve told you more before. Things were going wrong for a while."
Mitch finally turned to face her, his gaze steady. "Like what?"
"It started a couple of months ago. Some orchids disappeared from the front porch.
I thought it was teenagers messing around.
Then a supplier swore he shipped me a dozen peonies, but they never showed.
The tires on my delivery van went flat twice in three weeks.
I thought maybe I just needed to be more organized. "
Mitch straightened with a wince and grabbed a pen and notepad from the edge of the table. "You should have said something."
"I didn’t want to seem paranoid. I’m already the girl with the flower shop on the edge of town, living in her dad’s shadow and trying to make it work with lace and dreams."
"Izzy..."
She cut him off, voice trembling. "And now someone’s trying to destroy what little I have left."
Mitch’s face softened. He didn’t speak, just handed her the pen. She blinked, then took it and began listing each incident while he added notes.
Seeing the events written down, one after another, made her stomach churn. "It wasn’t just random, was it?"
Mitch tapped the paper. "Looks like sabotage. Whoever it is, they’ve been escalating."
Izzy nodded slowly, her throat dry. "But who would want to ruin a flower shop?"
He looked back at her, eyes sharp. "That’s the question. And I plan to get the answer."