Chapter Nineteen
In the weeks that followed, nothing was decided about their relationship. The women had urged her not to mention the hearts, and she agreed. Allen was having fun, and so was the town—who was she to spoil it?
They continued their dinners almost nightly, except on evenings when Allen’s online classes and assignments kept him busy. Cammie realized he’d delayed his coursework while he worked long hours to help her get set up and was now playing catch up.
She valued their time together—sharing meals, enjoying moonlit strolls—and missed him on the evenings he wasn’t there. That realization alone spoke volumes about the growing place Allen held in her heart. In contrast, Judson hadn’t been missed. Thinking back, she realized his conversations hadn’t been stimulating; instead, they had often left her feeling small and inadequate. His words, often condescending, had chipped away at her confidence over time.
Allen, however, was different. He treated her as an equal, including her in discussions about work, seeking her input on architectural designs, and even asking her thoughts on reports he was preparing. With every conversation and thoughtful gesture, he was helping her reframe her view of relationships and herself. Slowly but surely, she felt herself growing in ways she’d never imagined.
For the first time since childhood tea parties with her father, Cammie felt undeniable happiness.
Cammie was lost in thought, tying elaborate bows around vessels in preparation for the Valentine’s Day rush, now less than a week away. The brass doorbell chimed, pulling her attention to Zach as he stepped inside; Grace’s tiny hand dwarfed in his much larger one.
“Good evening, Cammie. Your shop looks amazing. I’m sorry I missed your grand reopening,” he said in a hurried tone, his eyes scanning the space. “I heard it made the papers and even a few TV broadcasts. Congratulations.”
Cammie’s brow arched slightly. Was Zach nervous? The ex-Ranger, usually steady and composed, seemed unsettled. Meanwhile, Grace, practically vibrating with excitement, bounced on her toes beside him.
As Zach hesitated, gathering his thoughts, Grace peeked up at him, her unrestrained energy a sharp contrast to her father’s tension. From the back of the shop came the familiar sound of the door opening, followed by Allen’s steady footsteps—right on time, as usual, to walk her to dinner.
Allen stepped up behind her, pressing a tender kiss to the top of her head. His voice dropped to a soft murmur as he greeted her. “Hello, beautiful.” Straightening, he turned his attention to Zach and Grace. “Evening, Boss. Gracie. What brings you two in? Shopping for a special lady?”
Grace’s smile stretched impossibly wide, her excitement bubbling over as she nodded enthusiastically. “Can I ask her now, Daddy?” she whispered —not nearly as softly as she might have thought, given the considerable distance between their heights. At six-foot-three and all bulging muscles, Zach looked like a giant compared to Grace.
Her father’s lips curved into a small, amused smile, the awkwardness he’d been carrying melting away as Grace’s impatience and eagerness came to his rescue. “Yes, Gracie,” he said warmly. “You may ask Miss Cammie for us.”
The little girl squeezed her father’s hand and gave a delighted bounce before launching into her explanation, her words tumbling out in a rush. “We’re going to ask Miss Sullivan to be my mommy! Daddy picked the ring, but I get to plan the prosal. I want to do a hide-and-seek one! Will you help us make lots and lots of red floating balloons?”
No one with a heart could resist this darling girl and her adoring father—especially not Cammie. With a warm smile, she replied, “I’d be honored to help. How many balloons are we talking about?”
“I ran some calculations, and I think we’ll need between 300 and 400 balloons for Grace’s plan. Maybe fewer if we include the mylar ones,” Zach explained. “She wants them to fill the entire bottom floor of the house and block Harper’s view, so we’ll need strings of varying heights—four to six feet. And they all have to be red.”
Zach glanced down at his daughter, his expression softening with affection. “Do you want to tell them why, Lady Bug?” he asked gently.
“My art teacher said colors mean things, so we have to be careful about what we use when giving to others,” Grace explained, her little face solemn. “Pink is for soft, sweet, and new love—like a friend who loves you. But red means real love, deep and true. The forever kind. Daddy and I really love Harper, so we need red balloons to show her we’re serious.”
“This sounds like a lovely proposal you have planned, Grace,” Cammie said sincerely. “What day is this special event scheduled for?”
Grace clapped her hands, her enthusiasm spilling over as she exclaimed, “Valentine’s Day! The day of love, and we love Mommy!” Her eyes widened in sudden realization, and she slapped both hands over her mouth. Her face turned a rosy shade of pink as she glanced up at her father, looking apologetic.
Zach scooped Grace into his arms, murmuring, ‘It’s okay, Gracie. They won’t tell anyone you called Harper ‘Mommy’ early. It’s our secret.”
The little girl wrapped her tiny arms around his thick neck, holding him tight as she buried her angelic face into the crook of his shoulder. Peeking out at Cammie and Allen, her brown eyes sparkled with a mixture of shyness and delight.
Meanwhile, Cammie’s fingers gripped the counter so tightly her knuckles turned white. She didn’t want to disappoint Zach or his daughter, but there was no way she could pull off their request... not on the day they needed anyway.
Allen sensed her panic and stepped closer. Wrapping his arms around her from behind, he leaned in and whispered against her ear, his voice calm and steady, “Say yes, Cammie. We’ll figure it out.”
Her grip didn’t ease immediately, the tension still coiled in her shoulders. Sensing her hesitation, Allen pressed a soft kiss to her cheek, his tone even gentler now. “Trust me.”
His quiet assurance worked like a balm. After a heartbeat, she let out a slow breath, the strain in her body softening as she leaned back into him. A small, tentative smile curved her lips.
“We’ll get it done,” she said at last, her voice steady and warm as she met Zach’s hopeful gaze. “I can’t wait to hear all about your big day.”
Zach thanked her warmly and wished them a good night. As the door closed behind him, Cammie spun to face Allen, her frustration clear. “You have no idea what you just committed me to!”
“You’re right—I don’t,” he admitted, his voice calm as he slid his hands to her hips. He held her gaze, his own reflecting quiet determination while hers flashed with concern—concern for letting Grace down and overwhelm at everything piling up. “But I promise you this: we’ll make it happen. After everything Zach and Grace have been through—and what happened at New Year’s—they deserve the best proposal in history. If it’s within my power to pull it off, they’ll get it.”
Cammie hesitated, still unsure, but Allen didn’t waver. “Now,” he continued, his voice firm but reassuring, “walk me through it. How many people do we need? How many hours will it take? I already told Zach I’d be taking the 13th through the 15th off, and if I need to add the 12th, I will. I’ve got plenty of vacation days saved up.”
Sighing in resignation, she reached for a notepad, her pen poised as she began jotting down a list and crunching numbers. “Does Zach realize this will cost at least $600— and that’s if I give it to him at cost?”
Allen leaned in and pressed a kiss to her temple, a comforting habit he’d developed without even seeming to notice. She’d grown to appreciate it more than she cared to admit.
“Zach wouldn’t expect you to cut into your profits. He wants Camellia’s Creations to thrive—not to go under because of friendly favors,” Allen said, his voice firm but kind. “Charge him what you’d charge anyone else walking through that door. My guess? Somewhere around a grand, give or take.”
“Yes, but you’re providing the labor, so I can’t charge for that—”
Allen gently cupped her face, tilting it slightly until her eyes met his. “Yes, you will charge for my labor, even if I’m giving it freely to you . The same goes for the girls helping with the flower arrangements.”
“I’m paying them,” Cammie said with a smile. “Lauren insists on ‘friendship rates,’ which means I just need to feed her every six to eight hours and keep the coffee flowing—Gwen promised to handle that. Missy and Vanessa, though, have cars and college to save for, so they’re getting full assistant rates. They do excellent work; Betty trained them well. And Kate asked me to make a donation to her library instead, plus consider hosting a flower design class for the community when things settle down—which, of course, I agreed to.”
“See, Valentine’s is a full-price day, and the balloon order is no different. I could have asked some of the guys to help, but maybe Lauren has another cousin who could use the money. How long do you think this will take?”
“An experienced balloonist could probably finish in two hours,” Cammie replied. “For someone less practiced, it’s more like four. With help, we could cut that down. If Lauren can find extra hands, it’ll make me feel a lot better. I already had your day planned out, so I’ll need at least one extra set of hands no matter what.”
She turned to gather her things and grabbed her coat.
“What’s the earliest we can start filling them?” Allen asked as he opened the door and helped her step onto the frozen ground.
“Mylar balloons can be filled a bit earlier since they hold air longer, but the 12th is probably the earliest. I’ll order fresh balloons for Zach and Grace, but now that I’m thinking about it, we could also make a few balloon bouquets to stage around the shop or sell. We can put those together on the 12th, and if we need them, we’ll take them to Zach’s with the others.” She paused, her breath visible in the crisp air. “I’ll place the order during dinner. I just hope I can get a helium tank. Mine is almost empty, and we will need at least one and a half for this.”
Placing his arm around her shoulders, Allen tucked her close against his side. “We’ve got this. When Valentine’s Day is over, you’re going to look back and be amazed at everything we accomplished—and how incredible it feels to be part of so many people’s special day.”
Cammie sighed, her head resting against his shoulder. “We’ll see about that,” she murmured, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “Or this could end up being one more reason I hate the holiday.”
Allen chuckled softly, his confidence unwavering. “Trust me, Cammie. This one’s going to be different.”