Chapter Twenty-Three
Valentine’s Day was a whirlwind of activity. As promised, Allen met Cammie at the shop at 4 a.m., and, together, they loaded his truck and her van with the first round of orders. By 6 a.m., both vehicles were brimming with vibrant blooms and heading in opposite directions.
Tim arrived with Lauren, Kate, and Missy just as they were leaving. Cammie called out through her van window, “You’re lifesavers! Breakfast is on the guest counter. Lauren, I added your credentials to my Square account, so sales should ring up without a hitch. Call if you need anything. Missy, the list of next orders to go out is taped to the cooler door. I got a few done last night, but… it was crazy. I…”
Lauren approached the van carefully and hugged Cammie through the window. “We’ve got this. Go! Allen might beat you back, and we’d hate to mix up deliveries. This is your big day—don’t let worry ruin it. Drive safe. The roads are icy.”
“I’ll be back in three hours if all goes well. If I go over four, send out the search and rescue team,” Cammie quipped with a grin.
“Finally, the sense of humor I knew was hidden way in there,” Lauren chuckled. Now go—we’ve got customers!”
As Cammie drove off, Lauren smiled, hurrying to greet the first car pulling up to the shop. It was going to be a good day.
Three and a half hours later, Cammie backed into her reserved parking spot, her worry spiking when she noticed Allen wasn’t back yet. Inside, as she shrugged off her coat, Tim reassured her, “He’s fine. Just hit some trouble on the unsalted back roads. That’s why he insisted on taking that route—he knew his truck’s four-wheel drive would handle it better than the van.” Allen’s foresight of the situation eased her concern.
The shop was packed with customers, so Cammie jumped in to help Lauren assist patrons with selections while Tim rang up purchases at the register.
By the time Allen arrived—over an hour later than expected—the rush had slowed, and Cammie thanked Tim for his help. He explained he was staying to assist with the balloon delivery, which made sense.
After Allen gulped a quick coffee, they got to work loading four hundred helium-filled balloons into the back of Allen’s long-bed Ford and Tim’s Suburban XL. The task quickly turned chaotic as the wind picked up, whipping snow into their faces and yanking at the balloons. They worked methodically, loading one weight at a time to avoid tangling the ribbons, but the gusts were relentless.
A few balloons slipped free despite their efforts, prompting shouts of, “Oh no, there goes another one!” and “Not again!” over the rumble of engines and the howling wind. At one point, Lauren stepped outside with a fresh batch of balloons, only for the wind to whip the ribbons around her like marionette strings. Her coat— adorned with oversized buttons—snagged the ribbons, saving the balloons but leaving her in a hopeless tangle.
After several minutes of attempting to unravel the mess, Tim finally groaned, “Hold on, I’m going to cut it.”
“Cut what?” Lauren shrieked. “You better not mean my coat or my hair, Timothy Adler, or you’ll be sleeping with one eye open! I’ll shave you bald and weaken every seam in your uniforms.”
Tim and Allen laughed, Allen shaking his head. “If you can sneak up on Tim, he’s officially adjusted to civilian life. We bunked together on a mission, and I swear that guy didn’t sleep the entire night. I even warned Eric I thought he’d crash the chopper before we made the drop zone.”
“Ha,” Tim replied with a smirk. “I’m the best pilot you’ve ever flown with. I got you guys in and out without a scratch on my bird—that’s no small feat, considering your unit always landed in the hottest spots.”
With a final tug on the tangled ribbons, six red balloons broke free, floating off into the snow-filled sky. “Zach probably overestimated anyway,” Tim added. “He’ll survive with a few less balloons. Lauren, maybe you and your button collection should head inside and hand balloons out from the doorway. It’ll be safer for Grace’s big plans.” He winked at his sister.
Lauren huffed, flipping her long blonde hair over her shoulder. She stomped into the shop, drawing a collective breath of relief from everyone as she made it safely across the icy distance.
Loading the rest of the balloons took longer than expected, but soon enough, the two men locked their vehicles in four-wheel drive and began the climb up the mountain into Whispering Pines, where Zach’s cabin awaited their bounty.
The women worked quickly, placing the last delicate blooms into the next set of arrangements and lining them up on the cooler shelves in order of delivery. They had agreed to eat lunch before Cammie and Allen headed back out into the cold.
When Allen and Tim returned after successfully delivering the balloons, arms laden with food bags from Gathering Grounds, they headed upstairs to the loft apartment, leaving a bell on the counter with a note to ring for assistance.
Allen stepped into the workroom to let Cammie know lunch was ready and found her emerging from the walk-in cooler, a two-gallon bucket of chilled plant food in hand. Lost in thought, she didn’t notice him until she ran smack into him, sloshing half the bucket’s icy contents down his front.
He gasped in shock; she screamed in horror. As she reached out to wipe at the 35-degree water streaming down his chest, the slick bucket slipped from her grasp. It crashed to the floor, sending another icy wave cascading over his legs, soaking him from knees to toes.
Shrinking back, he raised his hands, trying to fend off any further attempts to help. A mighty shiver wracked his body as he clenched his fists against the chill.
Tim charged into the room with Lauren, Missy, and Kate close behind, only to halt abruptly at the scene. Cammie stood frozen by the cooler, hands clasped over her mouth, the nearly empty bucket at her feet. Water streamed across the angled floor toward the drain. Allen stood a few feet away, jaw clenched, visibly shivering.
A loud guffaw broke the silence as Tim doubled over in laughter. “Tim!” Lauren hissed, pounding him on the back. “Stop it! He’ll catch his death like this.”
Tim straightened, still chuckling. “I’ll check your truck for spare clothes,” he said, heading for the door. “And grab my gym bag if I can’t find anything. You should fit—especially after that shrinkage.”
Lauren slapped his arm, glaring as he left. His laughter echoed all the way into the parking lot.
A few minutes later, Tim returned and tossed two duffle bags toward Allen’s chest. Allen caught one, but the other slipped through his hands and hit the wet floor with a thud. “You should find something between the two of us,” Tim said. “If you need to head home and change, I can help load the vehicles after lunch.”
They made their way upstairs, and after much insistence from the women, Allen relented and took a hot shower. When he returned to the lunch table, Tim started chuckling again.
“What now?” Lauren demanded, arms crossed. “And please, keep it G-rated for the young ears at the table.”
“Oh, come on, Lauren. I have brothers,” Missy replied, rolling her eyes in mock offense.
“You might,” Lauren shot back with a sharp look, “but Katie doesn’t, and I won’t have my ogre of a brother ruining her innocence before the wedding.” Her glare was so pointed it could have cut glass, and Tim immediately sobered.
“I’m sorry, Katie, for my earlier comment,” Tim said earnestly, taking his girlfriend’s hand. “Sometimes, when I’m around my army buddies, I forget to consider the women in the room—and Lauren doesn’t count. I promise I’ll do better.”
“It’s fine, Tim. I know you were joking, and it went right over my head,” Kate replied with a warm smile. “You can explain it to me later if it’s worth it. But as for Lauren, I know how protective you are—I don’t believe you for a second. So, what was so funny this time? If it’s appropriate, of course.”
Tim grinned sheepishly. “I was just going to tease him about smelling fresh as a daisy. It’s an old joke from boot camp—sounds worse than it is. I wasn’t really making fun of him, but I’ll keep it to myself.”
Allen chuckled. “Pretty sure it’s lavender, actually. Cammie has a thing for it—color and scent. As for daisies, I’ll stand by what I’ve always said: they don’t have a fragrance.”
Tim finished his last bite and dusted off his hands before turning to Cammie. “Let’s settle this once and for all. You’re the expert—do daisies have a fragrance?”
Cammie raised a brow. “What variety are you asking about? If you don’t know the name, you can describe it.”
“Any daisy,” Tim replied with a grin. “I feel like you’re dodging the question so you can stay neutral—or side with Allen—but you know I’m right.”
Cammie turned to Allen. “When you say daisies don’t smell, what kind are you thinking of?”
“The white ones with the yellow centers—the kind girls in movies pull apart to figure out if their man loves them. I’ve smelled them, and they don’t have a scent. Bees like them for the bright centers, not for fragrance,” Allen said confidently, arms crossed over his chest.
“If that’s the daisy you mean, Tim, then Allen’s right,” Cammie agreed. “The everyday daisy most people think of doesn’t have a detectable fragrance. You’d need a pretty sensitive nose—or specialized equipment—to notice anything.”
“I hear a ‘but’ coming,” Tim teased. “Be honest, Cammie. The whole truth and nothing but the truth.”
“Tim, you’re a pilot and a cop, not an attorney,” Lauren called, starting to clear plates as Kate joined her. “You lose, Allen wins. Now, let’s get back to work.”
“No, I’m man enough to admit when I’m wrong,” Allen said, smirking as he leaned back in his chair. “But even if there’s a ‘but,’ I’m still right because the daisy I’m thinking of doesn’t smell. And Cammie,” he added, with a teasing glance her way, “feel free to educate my friend here on floral scents. He’s got a woman now—he’ll need all the help he can get to keep her.”
Cammie playfully slapped his shoulder. “Be nice. But if you must know, Gerbera Daisies can have a subtle, sweet fragrance. So, to keep the peace, I’ll call it a draw—you’re both right.”
She turned a beaming smile on Allen as she stood and whispered, “And for the record, you’re right—you smell like lavender, my favorite. Old Spice makes a scent called Wilderness that uses it. You should check it out.”
As she headed to the kitchen to help clean up, Allen’s chair legs hit the floor with a thud. His eyes stayed locked on her retreating figure, confusion, hope, and anticipation flickering across his face. Tim burst out laughing at his friend’s predicament—he’d been in the same place with Kate not long ago—but Allen barely noticed. Had Cammie just flirted? Hinted at the future? Something had shifted, and he couldn’t stop his mind from racing ahead.