Chapter 4 #2
He didn’t know quite how he felt about that.
She was more than he’d expected in pretty much every way.
As he walked back to resume doing inventory, he realized he was still waiting for the “but.” Because so much of his life had come with a “but.” He didn’t know how to trust that things might simply be right, might simply just line up. He’d never been that lucky before.
Maybe there’s a first time for everything.
By the time Misty finished her two, in-town deliveries, she’d given up on her hair, combing out the remains of today’s flowers and gathering the curling mess of it into a knot.
Her skirt hung wet and limp against her legs, and she couldn’t wait to get home and into a hot bath with a cup of steaming tea to chase away the chill.
Or maybe wine. It was five o’clock somewhere and she was almost done with work for the day.
But first, she had to brave the rising squall and drive ten miles into the county to deliver this last anniversary bouquet to Jolene Lowrey.
Mother Nature was having some kind of a tantrum, lashing wind and rain against the van hard enough to make it rock as Misty took the road out from town and headed over the pass that led to the next valley.
She could barely hear the guiding voice of her GPS telling her where to turn, and the wipers couldn’t keep up with the deluge pounding down.
She slowed to a crawl, leaning forward, as if that would help her see better.
The world had narrowed down to a green and gray blur of the countryside.
The drive that should have taken no more than fifteen minutes on a good day stretched into a full half hour.
Misty’s knuckles were white on the wheel as she turned, at last, into the Lowrey’s driveway.
The trees of their heavily-forested yard provided some shelter from the wind, and for several, long moments, she simply sat, engine idling, in front of the house.
“Get moving, girl. The sooner you finish here, the sooner you can get home to that bath.”
Pulling as close to the front steps as she dared, Misty slipped out into the storm. She didn’t even bother with an umbrella. She needed both hands to protect the flowers. The wind snatched at her hair as she hustled up the stairs and rang the bell.
Jolene opened the door, eyes going wide.
Misty managed a weak smile. “Special delivery. Happy anniversary.”
“Oh my word! You look like a drowned kitten. Come inside.” The older woman stepped back, opening the door wider.
“Oh, no, I couldn’t. I just needed to drop this off.”
“Nonsense. This weather’s not fit to be out in, and you’re practically soaked. Come in and dry off. Have a cup of tea and cake.”
That got Misty’s attention. “Cake?”
“It’s my test run of the red velvet cake for Xander and Kennedy’s wedding.” Jolene took the flowers and headed on down the hall, leaving Misty to shut the door.
Deciding she deserved some cake after that drive and hoping the weather would clear by the time she left, Misty followed her hostess into a big kitchen. Lingering scents of butter, sugar, and chocolate had her mouth watering.
“These are positively stunning.” Jolene buried her nose in the blooms. “It’s been forty years and my Curt never forgets.”
Misty fisted a hand over her heart and sighed.
She absolutely adored this part of her job, seeing love that lasted.
Her own parents had been married for thirty years, but theirs wasn’t exactly a model relationship.
They tended to operate as if spite was an Olympic sport, and Misty regularly wondered why they were still together.
As Jolene disappeared into the adjacent laundry room, Misty called, “So what’s your secret to marital bliss?”
She came back with a towel, one silver brow arched. “Looking to train Denver right from the get go?”
Misty’s mouth fell open, her fingers going lax on the fabric.
“I…we…” The grapevine was apparently ringing.
She knew that about Eden’s Ridge, but until him, she’d managed to stay more or less below the radar.
“That is getting way, way ahead of things. We’re just enjoying each other’s company and taking things slow. ”
“Honey, when a man looks like that, slow is not what any sane woman wants.”
Misty’s brain helpfully shot her back to that kiss in the tavern kitchen, which had been anything but slow.
It had been a delicious surprise that left her needy and rattled and wishing the kitchen door had had a lock.
The man was too potent by half, and she wondered how long it would take to work him around to taking her to bed.
No, slow was not what she wanted on that account.
Aware Jolene was soaking up her every reaction, Misty made use of the towel and cast around for a new topic of conversation. A miniature, three-tiered cake graced a stand on the butcher block island. Each tier had a different kind of piping. “That’s the test cake?”
With a smirk that said she recognized the diversionary tactic, Jolene turned toward the counter.
“The real thing will be bigger, of course. But I wanted to test out the layers and play with decorating. I’m afraid my piping skills aren’t up to the task.
This kind of icing simply doesn’t make good flowers. ”
“It looks lovely. But if you’re worried about presentation, you could use real flowers and echo the blooms of Kennedy’s bouquet.”
She put on a kettle for tea. “Real flowers? I hadn’t thought of that.”
Relieved the woman had taken the conversational bait, Misty settled in for the discussion. “Yeah, I’ve done several weddings where they used flowers on the cake. It photographs well and is sometimes less stressful than piping. We’d just remove them after pictures, before we slice it.”
“I just might take you up on that.”
They discussed options over tea and a slice of the cake—which was every bit as moist and delicious as a blue-ribbon cake ought to be. A half hour later, she had Jolene’s order for additional flowers for the cake in hand and the rain had let up a bit.
“I’d better dash before the next wave hits. Thanks so much for the tea and cake, Jolene.”
“Thank you for the flowers and the company.” She walked Misty to the door. “By the way, I never did tell you.”
“Tell me what?”
“The secret to our forty years.”
“Oh?”
“We never stop appreciating each other.” Her lips quirked into a devilish grin. “In and out of bed.”
Cheeks heating, Misty managed to keep a straight face. “I’ll keep that in mind.” With another wave, she hurried to slide into the driver’s seat and backed down the driveway.
It certainly wasn’t bad advice. How many people got caught up in the everyday and stopped seeing the little things their partner did to make life easier?
How many let stress and work interfere with the maintenance of true intimacy?
Probably a lot. As she made her way back toward town, Misty decided she could absolutely get behind a philosophy of always being mindfully appreciative and making time to fall into bed.
Something popped and the van jerked hard.
Misty screamed, fighting for control as the vehicle went into a spin.
She turned into the skid, certain the screech of tires was the last thing she’d ever hear.
Then she was still again, facing a whole other direction.
Heart pounding, she lowered her head to the wheel.
“I’m okay. I’m okay.” She repeated it over and over, until she managed to pry her hands free and open the driver’s side door.
Her legs shook as she stepped out to see what the damage was. The back end of her van hung off the road, and the whole thing tipped at an odd angle. The rear driver’s side tire was shredded, and the remaining rear wheel was wedged against a fallen log.
“Okay. I know how to change a tire.” But even as she circled around for the spare, she realized there was no way she could get the jack under it with the van in this position.
Could she move it to straighten it out? Should she?
The road was awfully wet, and the boiling clouds just to the west told her more heavy rain was coming.
Was it even safe to try to jack it up? Maybe she should call a tow.
Her phone was in the floorboard. Not damaged, thank God. Turning on her flashers, she put a call in to Thompson’s Garage.
“Oh sure, we can do it. But Willie’s got two other calls ahead of you. It’s gonna be a while.”
Great. She was already shivering from the wet and wishing she kept some kind of blankets in the back. She didn’t have enough gas to leave the motor running for the heat.
“Well then, I guess put me on the list. If I manage to make other arrangements, I’ll call and let you know.”
“Will do.”
She’d already been out longer than she’d expected. Knowing Denver would worry if he didn’t hear from her, she called him next.
He answered on the first ring. “All settled at home with Moxie?”
I wish. “Not exactly.”
“What’s wrong?”
At the immediate snap of tension in his tone, Misty winced. “I’m fine, but I have a bit of a situation.”
“What kind of situation?”
“I had a blowout and it’s going to be a while before Willie can get to me. Unless there’s some other tow service in town I don’t know about?”
“I’ll be right there. Where are you?” She hated the urgency threaded through his voice.
“You don’t have to do that. You’ve got work. I just called so you wouldn’t worry.”
“I’ll be right there,” he repeated, enunciating every word. “Where are you?”
Maybe his dictatorial tone should have rankled.
But it didn’t. That stubborn insistence made her go all warm and gooey inside.
She didn’t have to deal with all of this by herself.
For the first time in forever, she had someone she could count on.
A super sexy someone whose worry lines she’d kiss away later.
Misty gave him her location.
“I’m on my way.”