Chapter 19
Marc
Istared at the wall of refined art pieces in a daze.
I’d devoted so much mental and physical energy to getting the shop ready that I’d spared none for the more mundane aspects.
Maybe I thought they’d fall into place? My aunt’s decorations had always felt so obvious, like they’d been part of the shop since its inception, but time had not been kind to them and they were admittedly extremely out of date.
That I was still a little—a lot—preoccupied over my earlier atrocious behavior toward JD wasn’t helping matters either.
Even after my selfish call with Alex, because I knew she had an important presentation, I was in my head about it.
A nudge on my arm moved my vacant gaze from the wall of overly complex art to the man at my side, and I fought back a sad sigh. I hadn’t lashed out like that in years. Figures I’d do it to the very last person I would want to.
“Hey, you know we’re cool, right?” JD’s words were soft, quiet, kind.
“Yes?”
He raised an eyebrow. “That was super convincing.”
I huffed a laugh that gave way to my repressed sigh as I rested the side of my head against his shoulder.
“It’s been a minute since I’ve…” God, this was mortifying to admit, especially to my literal fucking hero.
“Since I’ve lost it like that.” JD’s firm hand gripped the back of my neck, his thumb digging into that one spot that seemed to force all of my muscles to relax.
It was a comfort I desperately needed, and one I didn’t feel I deserved.
“I get it. You don’t have to believe me, but I do. Sometimes the shit in our heads goes faster than we can get a handle on, almost as if it hijacks our body and boots us into the backseat. But you know what?”
“Hmm?” I hummed into his chest, greedily soaking up his warmth.
Damn, he smelled good, like jasmine and cedarwood.
Was it his cologne or just him? His strong fingers scratched the base of my skull, and it took everything in me not to bury my face in the side of his neck and beg for more like a needy cat.
“If I’m not allowed to dwell on nearly fucking stabbing you mid-PTSD episode, then you’re not allowed to be in your head about lashing out. What do you say? Sound fair?”
I met his blue-green gaze and saw the sincerity there. “Okay, yeah. I guess that’s fair.” I offered a tentative smile that grew more confident when he returned it.
“Good, now can you please explain to me why you’re staring at a wall of curlicue shit that not even my great-great-grandmother would put in her house?”
It wasn’t until I had to glance over my shoulder that I realized that at some point my simple head lean had resulted in me turning completely into JD and him wrapping his arms around me.
I cleared my throat and stepped out of the impromptu embrace.
JD didn’t comment, but I didn’t miss his little smirk either.
I looked back at the wall of overpriced, mostly monotone swirls.
“What’s wrong with them? They're classy.”
He snorted. “We can discuss your interesting definition of classy later. More importantly, they don’t feel like you at all. Or your Aunt Petunia, for that matter.”
I sighed. He had a point. “Well, what would you suggest?”
His eyes twinkled. “Tell me your flower name first.”
“Nope, not gonna happen.”
He gave an exaggerated pout that kinda made me wanna tackle him and smother his face with kisses. Shame we were in a store that probably wouldn’t appreciate that sort of behavior. “Fine, be that way, but if I guess correctly, you have to tell me.”
“Yeah, yeah. If by some miracle you guess my flower, I pinky promise to tell you.”
The goof legit snagged my pinky finger with his and held up our joined hands to seal his end of the deal by placing his lips against his thumb.
Rolling my eyes, I did the same. Then he released me, but only after giving me a wink that made my chest flutter.
“Now, about these decorations. Since you clearly have no idea what you’re doing, I vote we play a game. ”
“Oh yeah? And how’s that go?”
“We each take a cart and find some of the wackiest decorations we can. They can be silly, completely over the top, whatever. Some are bound to be winners, or at least spark an idea, and all of them will be fun. What do you say?”
“I say whoever ends up with the most winners gets to pick dinner,” I replied with a wide grin, feeling significantly lighter than I had when we’d arrived.
JD did a fist pump. “I already know a few things I want to grab.” He checked his watch. “Meet back here at sixteen-hundred unless we bump into each other before.” He took a few steps and looked back at me. “Well, don’t just stand there. Get a move on.”
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had so much fun shopping.
It was a little ridiculous, if I was being honest. Though not nearly as ridiculous as some of JD’s “spectacular finds”.
In the end, we found several items that created a welcoming, earthy aesthetic with gentle nods to the coastal town.
My personal favorite was probably the large metal yard decoration of a great blue heron.
Did it cost more than I probably should have spent on it?
Absolutely. Would I be putting it outside?
Not a chance in watery hell. In fact, it inspired me to find several other fun yard critters to “hide” around the flower shop as if it were truly alive.
By the time we finished hitting up the shops, grabbing dinner, and unloading everything back at the shop, I was fucking beat. We collapsed onto the couch with dual groans of exhaustion and propped our feet on the coffee table.
“I swear, I’ve done endurance training that took less out of me,” JD said with a laugh.
I laughed right along with him, guzzling water like we’d run out ten miles into a fifty-mile hike. Damn humidity. “No shit. I think there’s a very real chance I might have overdone it.”
He snorted. “Use what you use. Take back what you don’t. Speaking of which—”
“Nope. I’m not having this debate again.
I already compromised by going with your version.
It’s not going back.” His heavy sigh was a little over the top, even by my standards—and my sister’s—which was really saying something.
I set my water down and angled to face him.
“I don’t understand why you’re so bent up about it. You’re the one who grabbed it.”
He mirrored my position, complete with a tucked leg and an arm draped over the back of the couch. “It was supposed to be a joke.”
“Well, I disagree.”
“So you’re telling me you had every intention of hanging a giant fucking pride flag in the shop?” He raised both eyebrows to underscore his incredulity.
I rolled my eyes. “Of course not.” Before he could interject the blatant “I told you so” I could see brewing on his face, I went on. “I’d have gotten a pole for it and hung it outside like a normal person. Just be glad I settled for the microscopic window decal.”
“It’s hardly microscopic,” he muttered. He wasn’t wrong. It was a respectable seven-by-five inches, but that hardly compared to a three-by-five foot flag.
I traced the back of his hand where it rested beside mine on the back of the couch. “Can you at least tell me why you’re so upset about it?”
He moved his hand so his fingers could play with mine, though he didn’t meet my gaze.
“As much as I appreciate the gesture, we’ve run into how many bigoted assholes since I’ve been here?
I don’t like the idea of you putting yourself in harm’s way for me.
People like that will look for any excuse to cause trouble. ”
“Aww, bless your heart.” I squeezed his hand.
His head shot up. “Excuse me? I’ll have you know I’ve been down here long enough to know that’s not meant as nice as it sounds.”
I scooted a little closer and gave him my best sympathetic Southerner smile.
“It’s so cute that you think you’re the only reason I’d want to display that flag.
” I gave him a second to be hella confused before giving into the laughter.
“Dude, my sister’s pansexual. Not to mention there’s little Rumi.
Plus, I’m like sixty percent sure that part of the reason Martha Elcott has it out for my aunt is because she’s secretly been in love with her for the last like eighty years. ”
He snorted. “Your aunt’s not that old.”
“My point is I want the shop to be a safe space. The language of flowers wasn’t just for uptight young women of high society,” I added with a smirk.
Smiling, he scooted closer. “So what you’re saying is that you didn’t do it for me.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“So… you did do it for me.”
God, he was cute when he was teasing me. I shook my head. “Didn’t say that either.”
His gaze flicked to my mouth before his teeth sank into his bottom lip. My heart rate kicked up. “In that case, you probably don’t want to kiss me.”
Jesus, he was killing me. “Definitely didn’t say that.” Could he hear how loud my heart was beating? Also, when did the distance between us disappear? Much like in the store when I’d suddenly found myself wrapped in his arms, I had absolutely no memory of moving.
“So, you do want to kiss me?”
“If I did?” I replied, smiling so hard my face was actually hurting.
“I’d want to know what you were still doing over there.” His eyes sparked with a challenge that I happily rose to meet.
Gliding my hand along his arm, I eliminated the last of the distance separating us.
It was tempting as hell to toy with him and leave it as a light peck, but then his lips parted and he sighed into me.
I sank into the kiss with an ease that had eluded me far too often, boldly sweeping my tongue inside to taste and tease.