3. Finn #2
Chester pretended to consider it. “Hmm. I was thinking ‘you’re the dandy to my lion.’”
My lips twitched. “‘You had me at aloe.’”
“‘I’m head clover heels for you.’”
“‘Herb your enthusiasm.’”
“‘Tulips are better than one.’”
“‘Don’t stop be-leafin.’”
“‘You make my daisy.’”
A hoot of laughter escaped me. “Ding, ding, ding, we have a winner!”
“Brilliant.” Chester laughed, swiping at his eyes. “Not sure I’ve ever met anyone else who can match me for plant puns.”
He was so close to me now, gradually drifting nearer during our little game. My gaze dropped to his lips instinctively. “I’ve been told I’m a man of many talents. ”
The effect on Chester was instantaneous…and the exact opposite one of what I was hoping for. He paled, sitting back in his seat and clearing his throat. “We appear to have got off course. I’m sorry.”
He certainly apologises a lot. If anything, I was the one needing to apologise.
I shouldn’t have been flirting with someone who was sending out clear signals to back off.
I mean, seriously, what the fuck was wrong with me?
I’d never been like this, even around Sarah.
Letting my guard down would have broken me and Danny, so I hadn’t allowed myself to go there.
But I also hadn’t struggled with it. I’d prided myself on being able to keep my emotions on strict lockdown.
Ten minutes with this man and he was undoing centuries of hard work.
“Do you mind if I ask you a couple of questions just so I can get an idea of what you’re after?
” All laughter had faded from Chester’s face, leaving behind a sympathetic albeit professional expression.
“I’m sorry if it makes you uncomfortable, but I like to make sure the arrangement is a fitting memorial for your loved ones. ”
I flinched at that. I’d loved Sarah and Maria, but they weren’t my loved ones. They were Danny’s. That was far too complicated to get into with Chester though. “Aye. Of course.”
At Chester’s elbow, there was a box of tissues. That made sense. He probably had a lot of people crying back here. That wouldn’t be me though. I’d shed all my tears for Sarah and Maria many decades ago. The pain was different now—never fully going away, but not flaying me wide open either.
“Please tell me to stop at any time,” Chester said quietly. “Are you okay if I take notes? ”
I nodded, and he grabbed a pad and pen from the counter behind him. “Why don’t you start with telling me the basics. What were their names? How old were they when they passed?”
The lump from earlier returned, making it difficult to speak. “Sarah and Maria. Their names were Sarah and Maria. Mother and daughter. Sarah was twenty-five, and Maria hadn’t seen her first birthday.”
Chester’s eyes widened in horror before his professional mask returned. “I’m so sorry, Finn.”
I nodded. I didn’t say it was fine, because it wasn’t. Not really. People usually say that to make others around them feel better. It was certainly why I’d said it over the decades. For some reason, I didn’t want to lie to Chester. The fake front I put up with everyone else didn’t seem right.
Chester cleared his throat before asking his next question. “Are the flowers for a funeral or memorial service?”
“Nae.” I grimaced, rubbing the back of my neck. “They didn’t die recently.”
Chester nodded in understanding. “You’re after something to commemorate them? To lay on their graves or in a place of remembrance?”
“Aye,” I said gratefully. “To be honest, I’m not even sure what I want. I didn’t come in here with a plan.”
“That’s okay, a lot of people don’t know what they want. That’s part of my job—to learn about them from you and then come up with something befitting their memory.”
The earnestness in Chester’s voice had me blinking. “That’s a pretty special thing to dedicate your life to.”
He shrugged it off, fiddling with one of his bracelets. “No more so than any other florist.”
Not only did Chester apologise more than necessary, but he had an issue accepting praise. My guard went up as my wolf started sniffing the air, sensing, as I did, that there was a story to be told.
That wasn’t relevant though. Chester had made it clear that this was a professional meeting, and I was going to treat it as such.
Shoving my wolf down, I gave Chester a small smile. “What else do you need to know?”
“Why don’t we start with what they liked to do? Did Sarah have any hobbies?”
I took a steadying breath, opening the box I’d shoved all the memories into. It took me a second to find the ones that would answer the question. “Sarah liked to press flowers. She’d spend hours walking the woods, searching out different wildflowers. She knew all their names too.”
I wondered what had happened to the massive book where she’d kept them. Acquiring the paper for it had cost a small fortune at the time, but Danny hadn’t spared any expense. He’d travelled to Edinburgh to get it for her for her birthday.
But I was the one who’d learned how to bind the pages together. Danny had tried, but after he’d made a mess of one too many pieces of paper, Sarah had asked me for help.
Like I could ever say no to her.
“That’s lovely,” Chester said quietly, his pen scratching over the paper and bringing me back to the present. “I can work some pressed flowers in. We don’t get many wildflowers in here, but that’s just a good excuse for me to get out for some walks.”
My brows raised. “You’d really do that?”
“Of course.” Chester nodded. “It’s no problem at all. I want you to have something that truly represents them. Besides, the area I live in is surrounded by nature. I should make more of it than I do. ”
I had to bite back the question. Asking him where he lived was completely inappropriate.My wolf whined, but I ignored him. “Thank you. I appreciate that.”
His smile was more relaxed now, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “You’re welcome.”
We continued talking about Sarah for a few more minutes. Chester asked about her favourite time of day and how she’d decorated her home. There were also the more obvious questions about her favourite colours and flowers, but it was the first few that stuck with me.
I imagined a lot of florists gave the spiel of wanting to understand the person they were celebrating, but did any of them go to the lengths that Chester did?
I doubted it.
What was more, he didn’t rush me. There were half-finished projects on the counters, but he didn’t seem worried. Even when the phone rang, he ignored it, gesturing for me to continue. “Don’t worry. That’s what the machine’s for.”
His level of care touched something in me.
It wasn’t as though I didn’t experience this in my daily life—of course I did.
I was fucking lucky to have the people around me that I did.
Calan, Logan, Evan, all of them cared about me.
So did a large portion of the clan, even if that care was because I was their leader.
But this was different. It was different because, for the first time, I was being open about Sarah. About Maria. What they’d meant to me. What had made them so special and so worthy of love.
And Chester was listening to it all. Taking copious notes. He’d put his work on pause to take the time with me. To make sure it was perfect.
What was more, I suspected he’d do the same with any of his customers. That was probably why he had so many arrangements to make. Why the phone was now ringing off the hook.
“Okay, I’m thinking lots of yellow for Maria, for her blanket.” He bit his lip as he flipped to a new page, sketching something out. “And birds of paradise, of course.”
My brow furrowed. “Actual birds?”
Chester startled, like he’d forgotten I was there for a moment. “Oh, no. They’re flowers that look like birds. Hummingbirds, to be exact. Not quite the robins you said Maria liked to watch, but close. Unless you hate the idea? I can go in a different direction.”
His concerned face was blurred, my vision suddenly clouded. “No, don’t. I love it. It’s perfect.”
“They symbolise eternal life,” Chester said quietly, his gaze steady. “I’m not particularly religious, but with those I’ve lost, I like to think they’re still out there. Somewhere.”
The pain was so sudden it was like a knife to the gut. There was no afterlife for supes. Heaven and Hell were reserved for human souls.
I couldn’t say that to Chester. Instead, I cleared my throat and tried to smile. “Birds of paradise sound great. Thank you.”
The pity on Chester’s face told me I’d missed the mark with my smile, but being the professional he was, he didn’t mention it.
I was quiet while Chester outlined his other ideas, mutely nodding along with whatever he suggested.
Speaking was too much right now. Doing this was the right thing, but it had ripped the scab off the wound.
It was fresh once more, blood pooling around the edges.
I needed to get somewhere where I could tend to it.
Where I could patch it and let it heal over again .
Hopefully, the arrangements Chester was planning would help with that.
“I’m sorry,” Chester said suddenly. “I feel like I’ve made this harder than it should’ve been.”
I dragged my gaze up from my clasped hands to find him hunched in on himself. His blue eyes were shining with sympathy and remorse. I didn’t understand why though—it wasn’t his fault that I was grieving.
“Ye don’t need to apologise for doing your job,” I said firmly, but not unkindly. “I didn’t walk in here expecting this to be easy, Chester. If anything, you’ve made this a million times better than I thought it would be.”
“Good.” Chester offered me a brittle smile. “I think I’ve got everything I need now. Let me just get your contact details and then I can send you a sketch when I’ve got it finalised.”
After giving him my contact information, I smiled wryly.
In a parallel world, maybe there was a different version of Chester and me.
One where I met him in a neutral place. Where I didn’t flay my broken heart wide open for him to see during our first meeting.
One where he was amenable to the advances I wanted to make.
A universe where I gave him my number for a different reason entirely.
But we weren’t there. We were here. It didn’t matter that he was the first person I’d been attracted to in decades. Or that he’d made me laugh. Or that I was desperate to learn just what made him tick.
And what made his hands shake occasionally. What made his shoulders draw in. Who had made that happen.
None of it mattered. In a week, when I collected the flowers, our acquaintance would be at an end.
It shouldn’t have bothered me like it did.
It was only after I’d bid him goodbye and was driving back to the heart of the clan lands that something hit me. I’d been combing back through our conversation, when I picked up on a detail I’d missed.
Those I’ve lost.
Chester had lost people too.
Fuck.
He wasn’t that considerate just because it was his job, but because he knew what it was like to be in my shoes. He understood the ocean of grief. The ebb and flow of it. How the water could be calm one moment, and then a rogue wave would sweep you off your feet.
He understood.
What was more, it was after he said that that he’d wrapped things up. Was that because he could sense how strong the tide of my grief was becoming? Or was it because his own emotions were getting the better of him?
It doesn’t change anything, I told myself as I parked up outside the clan house. It changes nothing.
My wolf howled inside me and I flinched as the truth sank in.
It shouldn’t have changed anything.
But it had.