Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
Romy
Zander and I walk down the hill from The Knotted Barn toward The Perfect Petal to pick out flowers.
Finally, Delaney and Poppy have time to sit with us and go over everything.
The store might not be open to the public at the moment, but they still have customers calling in orders and still have all the landscaping projects for clients to deal with.
The conversation at my parents’ house went fairly well—although I can tell that my parents are a little perturbed they can’t share this news with my entire family.
I’m not even sure Zander fully understands what it’s like to try to keep a secret from my family because, unfortunately, he hasn’t had the blessing of a family that has his back.
I understand my nieces to a certain extent.
They’re young, impulsive, and adults can easily manipulate them and get them to spill.
So maybe waiting until I start showing makes sense.
Although I want to share this with them.
I want them to want to feel my stomach and talk about their new cousin.
But it’s okay. I’m going to let this go.
This is part of what it means to be having Zander’s baby.
“So, what were you thinking flower-wise?” Zander asks, cutting into my spiraling thoughts.
“I don’t know. Honestly, Delaney is so good with flowers. She’s going to know exactly what you’re looking for just from you describing it. She’s great at putting different combinations together.”
“She seemed really nice at dinner the other night.”
“Yeah, she’s really sweet. She lived in town a long time ago. She and Bennett were high school sweethearts and then parted, came together again, parted, and what you’re witnessing now is the getting back together again. It’s a long, tangled story.”
He nods, and I can tell he’s listening, but he looks as though his mind is somewhere else. “I’d like to see Willowbrook. I’ve barely set foot outside this ranch since I got here.”
I glance at him. He’s in his typical black jeans, black T-shirt. He’d be like a walking neon sign if I took him downtown right now.
“Would you really want to get off the ranch? Everybody knows you’re here, and I’m sure there are press just waiting to snap a picture of you.”
I’d love the opportunity to show him around my town. To take him to Laurel’s bakery or The Sprout House for the best chicken sandwich he’s ever had. I could make him try a cheeseburger pizza.
“Beau would blow his gasket if I told him I was going into town. He’d give me every reason in the book why I shouldn’t. But there’s still a part of me that wants to. This ranch is amazing, but I’m feeling a little cooped up.”
“I can imagine.”
He side-eyes me. “You understand that it’s the life you’re gonna get, right?”
“I know.” I do. Maybe Beau thinks I’m na?ve about it, but I know it won’t be easy. “I mean, sure, I understand our baby will be stuck in the limelight, and people will follow them. God forbid, I hope he or she doesn’t want a music career.”
Zander laughs. “Shit, I hate that. When people just assume the kid of a sports star is supposed to come out of the womb already throwing one hundred miles per hour.”
“I definitely don’t want those expectations on our child.”
He looks at the land to our right, an open field of flowers. “I’m happy our child will grow up here. I would’ve loved to. It must’ve been amazing.”
I can’t help but smile. “It was. All of this wasn’t always here.
My parents built this part. But my Uncle Bruce and the cattle ranch, that’s been in my family forever.
Then we had all this vacant land, and my mom and Aunt Bette wanted to stake their claim on their own piece of the property, because back in the day, only the son got everything. ”
“Right.” He rocks his head back. “Old school.”
I nod. “Everything was left to Uncle Bruce. But my parents, when they moved here, built their part. The Knotted Barn and The Getaway Lodge are theirs. The flower shop is Poppy and Bennett’s—they started that. The Harvest Depot is my parents’, and the vineyard is Aunt Bette’s and Uncle Wade’s.”
“It’s beautiful here.” There’s longing in his tone.
“Yeah, it was a lot of fun growing up here.”
“You always had a playmate.” He nudges me gently with his shoulder.
“That’s good and bad though. I probably fought with my cousins like siblings. But I’m grateful for that childhood, and I want my child to have the same.”
He turns to me, and our eyes lock. We pause just before the parking lot of The Perfect Petal.
It’s another question for us to find an answer to.
What will our kid’s future look like? We haven’t discussed it, but I think we both know our child will grow up here.
But will they also split time with Zander on the road?
The thought of missing holidays with him or her is already agony.
So, I push away the thought. We’re not there yet.
“Well, let’s go pick out some flowers.” I motion toward the building.
His lips slowly tip, but then he faces the shop, and we cross the parking lot.
We could have taken the UTV, but Zander seems to like walking. And walking is good for me, so I agreed.
We step inside The Perfect Petal, and the bell rings. It’s one of my favorite places on the ranch because the rush of air that greets you inside is heavenly—like a unique floral perfume. Rows of vibrant flowers in vases and stainless-steel buckets cover the floor and worn tabletops.
Delaney is already there, wearing her usual cute overalls with daisy patches. “You guys made it. I kept waiting to hear the UTV.”
“Oh, Zander likes to walk.” I nod in his direction.
His shoulders raise to his ears as he stuffs his hands in his pockets. He’s almost shy looking. “I don’t get to walk many places without a camera in my face, so I’m taking full advantage while I’m here.”
“This is the place to do it,” Delaney says, smiling.
Poppy breezes into the room from the back. “Oh, I thought I’d missed you. I’m telling you, that queen bee is on my last nerve. Zander, you’re missing out by not filming a scene at The Honey Pot.”
I love it when she talks about the bees, especially how entitled the queen bee is. It’s so clear how much she enjoys them.
“Never been stung by a bee, and I’m not taking my chances on going into anaphylactic shock,” he mutters. “Done that once in my life.”
“You’re such a baby.” Poppy gives him a cheeky smile to say she’s joking.
“All right, guys, this is the deal.” Delaney claps her hands together.
“I want to go over some of the flowers we have available, and you can tell me about your vision for the video. I already have a couple things lined up from what we talked about at dinner. But I can probably bring in whatever we need if we don’t already have it. ”
“Dinner?” Poppy’s eyebrows rise. “Oh, when did you guys have dinner?”
I glance at Zander.
Delaney bites her lip.
“All the families have family dinners,” I say quickly. “True, we Owens probably have them a little more often than most, but we all have them. It was just the weekly family dinner.” I shrug.
Now I’m outright lying to my cousins, and I hate it.
“We Ellises are so bad at that. Scarlett’s always somewhere, and Jensen’s always working. The most we do is stand around The Getaway Lodge kitchen and try Jensen’s cooking.”
“Well, that’s still a tradition,” Delaney says. “Traditions are what families are all about.”
My mind snags on the word tradition. What kind of traditions will I have with my son or daughter?
Surely, they won’t have any that involve both of their parents.
They’ll have separate ones with Zander and other ones with me.
That is my reality, and I need to come to terms with that faster than I am.
No matter how well Zander and I are getting on, the fact is that he’s leaving, and we are not a couple.
“Weird that Zander was there though…”
He shrugs, playing it off. “I sort of invited myself when I caught wind of it. Figured it was as good a time as any to go over some things with Romy and Delaney.”
Before Poppy can respond I clap my hands together. “All right, let’s get on with it then,” I say, changing the subject.
Delaney brings out some bouquets she’s already arranged. “We can also go out to the greenhouse and take a look at what we have there. What do you prefer, Zander?”
His eyes search the room as if he’s looking for one specific flower. “Truthfully, flowers aren’t my thing. I don’t know much.”
“Surely, you’ve sent them to a woman before. What did you pick out?” Delaney asks.
I do not want to think about Zander sending flowers to a woman. Going to a florist and picking them out especially for her. Writing poetic words on the card. The most I got was that he shared his king size Twix bar with me.
“I’ve never sent a woman flowers.”
“Never?” Poppy asks, judgment in her tone.
“No,” Zander admits, his gaze flicking to mine. I swear the tops of his cheeks above his beard are growing pink.
“Never?” she clarifies as if she heard wrong.
“That’s what I said.” There’s a bit of an edge to his voice now.
“Oh.” Delaney’s voice is soft, almost sad, as though he’s missed out on something. Her gaze flicks to me, as if confirming he never sent me flowers.
I want to ask her if she missed the memo the other night that I’m pregnant, but we’re not in a relationship. Never really were in one.
“All right, well, that doesn’t matter. Men don’t know much about flowers half the time even when they do send them.” Delaney quickly makes an excuse.
“Except your brother,” Poppy cuts in.
Delany shakes her head, although I’m sure Bennett is very particular about what flowers he gives Delaney. “Yeah, but most men just point at something and say, ‘Put something pretty together.’ Not everybody’s partner is a landscape architect.”
Delaney smiles, her love for my brother clear. A tinge of jealousy hits me, wondering what having that kind of certainty in your life feels like.
“Okay, let’s just continue.” I take a breath. “We’re trusting you, Delaney.”
“Just Delaney?” Poppy sounds offended.
“Oh, come on, Poppy, I’ll go to you about bees and honey.” I laugh.
Delaney shows us more flowers. I spot one in a vase higher than I can reach on the shelf, so I grab the step stool and stretch up to reach it. It’s big, full, and white with the palest pink coloring around the petals. It’s perfect.
I’m on my tiptoes, and I almost have the flower when an arm wraps around my waist, lifting my feet off the stool.
Zander plops me on the floor and steps up to grab it himself. “I’ll get it.”
“She almost had it,” Poppy says from the counter. “She doesn’t need saving.”
I glance at Delaney with a questioning look, wondering what is wrong with Poppy today. Usually she’s easygoing and fun, but today she seems angry.
Delaney shrugs.
“Overbearing much?” Poppy murmurs, but we all hear her.
“It’s not overbearing. It’s romantic,” Delaney cuts in quickly, shooting me a smile.
“Romantic? It’s controlling,” Poppy snaps. “She’s perfectly capable of getting a flower.”
“Okay, Poppy, thanks for the opinion. We have the flower now,” I say, desperate to defuse the situation.
“I’m just helping her,” Zander mutters and leans in close. “You can’t be climbing on stools like that,” he whispers.
Poppy can’t hear him, but she’s eyeing me suspiciously.
This secret has no shot of staying undiscovered when he’s doing things like that.