Chapter Three #3
Shane did as much outside of the flower shop as he could.
He cut all the intended pieces of the bucket rack and even did a rough preassembly with clamps.
The whole thing might have been able to fit through the door, but it was far too risky to try and maneuver it through the back prep room and over the register counter into the lobby.
The last thing he wanted was to walk into the back prep room and clash with Kimberly again.
That was mostly for Kimberly’s sake, but partly for his.
It took almost the entire trip to the lumber yard to get the smell of lavender and roses out of his nose.
But one sense that was still in perfect shape was his sense of hearing.
He had set up by the back door of the flower shop, with just a brick wall separating his setup and Kimberly in the prep room.
In between the harsh whirling of the saw and snap of the tape measure, Shane heard country music playing from Kimberly’s phone.
At first, he smiled to himself, glad to know that her taste in music hadn’t changed.
While his friends had been interested in the newest artists, Shane and Kimberly spent hours listening to a slightly older era. And it showed in her playlist.
It also told him that Kimberly was certainly not over what happened in Warrington.
Some songs were reminiscent of the high notes in their relationship.
“Check Yes or No” by George Strait, “She’s In Love With The Boy” by Trisha Yearwood, “Suds In The Bucket” by Sara Evans, “Would You Go With Me?” by Josh Turner, and “Want To” by Sugarland.
Others signified the years that followed.
Sad, gloomy songs that Shane could barely listen to.
“Probably Wouldn’t Be This Way” by LeAnn Rimes, “You’ll Think of Me” by Keith Urban, “Georgia Rain” by Trisha Yearwood, “Every Time I Hear Your Name” by Keith Anderson, “Watching Airplanes” by Gary Allan, and “It Only Hurts When I’m Breathing” by Shania Twain.
But one song had a slightly more uplifting message.
“Something Like That” by Tim McGraw. Kimberly never wore lipstick or miniskirts, and it hadn’t been only five years, it was ten.
But the fact that the singer and his first love were reunited at all on a random plane flight to New Orleans was the closest thing to Shane bumping into Kimberly at Larson Caves Park.
It was a second chance. Another opportunity to get it right.
Only, it didn’t seem Kimberly wanted to have anything to do with him. The fact that his father wouldn’t try to come between them again might have been one less thing to worry about, but there was something else. Something he didn’t see, and certainly something she wouldn’t tell him.
For the last few hours, while working in the hot summer sun behind the flower shop, Shane hemmed and hawed between taking his shot at trying to break apart her shell or leaving well enough alone.
He knew which choice would be smart. He knew which one was the most logical, which one would show Kimberly that he respected her struggles and make her feel seen and heard.
But that option would leave him awake at night, second-guessing himself as he pined away for the girl who got away.
He was still undecided by the time he gave a polite knock on the back door to let her know he was coming into her space.
The powerful smells hit him like a tractor to the face again, and he struggled to get a good lungful of air for a minute.
His eyes watered so badly that it took a moment for his vision to clear and get a good look at the back prep room.
A large worktable sat in the center, littered with skinny cut stems, tiny leaves, and stray petals.
Trimmings from ribbons, green foam, and colorful cellophane were scattered across the surface as well.
Standing like a floral goddess of nature and beauty was Kimberly, her hands deftly swiveling and moving the greenery of her current project.
“Good God, woman,” he coughed. “How can you stand this?”
He thought he saw the corner of her mouth twitch up, like she wanted to smile, but resisted. “I’ve been doing this for almost eight years. I’m used to it.”
Eight years. So, almost the whole time they had been apart.
She jerked her head toward the corner of the room nearest him. “There’s a wedge for the door if you want to let some fresh air in.”
Shane found the wooden block and slipped it under the door.
He then worked on picking up a bundle of the rack pieces and carted them through the prep room toward the lobby.
It took a few trips, and each time he passed by the table, he couldn’t help but glance her way and hope to make eye contact.
Nope. She was wholly engrossed in some pretty bouquet in a glass vase.
His very soul ached for her to pin him with those sparkling green eyes just one more time.
He almost didn’t even care if it was in a scowl or a smile.
Just something. Anything. Like a man dying of thirst in a desert, Shane realized just how badly he missed the comfort of Kimberly’s company.
One last trip to his truck to get his battery-powered drill, and he was ready to assemble.
It would only take about an hour, and he would have to go back to his stunningly empty apartment with enough time to wash up, eat some ramen, and then go to the bar to meet with Dominic and Cole about picking a new beta.
He wondered how he’d manage getting through the rest of the evening with the lingering memory of these few serendipitous moments with Kimberly.
Could he even concentrate on the meeting with her voice playing in the background of his mind?
For the sake of his pack, he would have to, meaning as much as he hated to, he had to wrap up this project quickly before he decided to do something more dangerous with Kimberly.
The Universe had other ideas. Two screws in and his drill died. Shane let out an aggravated breath when pulling the trigger gave him nothing more than a sad click.
“What’s wrong?” Kimberly asked over the music from the prep room.
“Drill’s dead,” he grumbled. “I need to get another battery.”
But, as he rummaged through his tool bag in the back of his truck, his backup battery wasn’t there. Then, Shane remembered he had loaned it to a coworker the previous day when his drill died on the jobsite.
He let out a low growl and retrieved the charging port from his backseat. When he came back into the prep room, he knew his energy was a little on the red side.
“What is it now?”
A tremor of anxiety in Kimberly’s voice made him stop dead in his tracks. That was right. Slamming doors, angry growls, a change in tone, a hard look, all of that was triggering for her. Living under her father’s roof made her hypervigilant to any shift in mood, especially ones from good to bad.
Shane took a breath and met her worried gaze. “I gave away my spare battery, so I have to charge this one.” He held up the charging port. “Can I use an outlet?”
Kimberly blinked and seemed to relax, understanding that his frustration had nothing to do with her.
She pointed to the far wall. “Next to the desk with the computer on it.”
Shane plugged it in, pushed aside some of the folders and paper next to the keyboard, and locked in the dead battery.
“How long will that take?” Kimberly asked.
Shane slipped out his phone to check the time. At best, it’d be an hour. That would still give him time to get ready for his meeting with Dominic at Howling Bones. But was that too long for Kimberly to be stuck with him?
He found an empty spot on the wall and leaned against it, folding his arms. “When do you need to get out?”
Kimberly carefully picked up the arrangement she had been working on and took it toward a shiny steel door. “I’ve got one more order to fill and then I’m caught up.”
She opened the door and crisp, cool air seeped into the room.
Behind the door was a walk-in fridge for the flowers with shelves lining the walls.
Shane watched her put the bouquet away and begin pulling the flowers for her next order.
The level of thoughtful consideration she put into the task was obvious.
Reaching for one flower out of a bucket, only to pause and choose another, loading up her arms with what would be her latest masterpiece.
She came back to the table and laid down her stash, then turned toward a high shelf lined with all manner and sizes of vases.
With the help of a step stool, she reached up for a particular vase, her lean body stretching to close the distance.
His cock twitched, and he was glad she wasn’t looking while he adjusted himself.
He wanted to be the thing she focused on, to have her undivided attention, to have that gaze so fixed upon him like it was earlier.
He wanted to feel Kimberly again in every sense of the word.
Feel the curves of her body against him, to smooth back the flyaway hairs from the crown of her head, to glide his hands against her flawless skin and find out if she was still as soft as she was at seventeen.
And even though she was just six feet away with only a worktable between them, she might as well have been on the other side of the universe, far away from him and unwilling to come an inch closer.
Desperation made him step over the carefully drawn line in the sand. “You still talk to your parents?”
Kimberly set down the vase with particular slowness. “My mom. She calls every so often.”
“Where are they now?”
“Missouri.” She picked through her flowers and began to trim their stems. “They have a farm.”
“Did your dad ever become alpha somewhere?”
The snip of Kimberly’s scissors was swift and hard. “No. I think he gave up on that idea after we left Warrington.”
Probably for the best.
Shane wasn’t sure if that was his own thought or an echo of his father’s, because he believed it to be pretty true.
“But they’re doing well?”