Chapter 12
CHAPTER 12
“ A nd this one?”
Trinity eyed the small bloom in question that had snapped from its stem. They often lost a few flowers during the arranging process. It was no big deal; she always ordered ten percent more from her wholesaler than she would actually need. “That one? That’s a carnation.”
“I think it’s my favorite.” Spencer twisted the flower between his fingers.
She had to smile at that. Of the flowers, the carnation was the least fussy and the most underrated, not to mention one of the least expensive varieties on the market.
“I like them too.” She glanced over at Spencer, barely containing her laughter when he took the flower and tucked it behind his ear. “Looks good on you,” she teased as her lips pressed into a grin. “Pink is your color.”
He withdrew the flower and stepped closer to Trinity. They had been standing side by side for over an hour while they worked. He’d had his delineated prep area, and she hers. But now he was in her space and coming closer. His hand slowly lifted as he slid the flower into the barrette she’d used that morning to pin her long hair back at the nape of her neck.
“There.” Giving it a little tap on the petals, he moved back, grinning. “Looks better on you.”
She couldn’t see for herself but would take his word for it.
They’d been doing a little of that this afternoon: flirting. At least, that’s what it felt like to Trinity. It had been so long since she’d flirted with anyone, and she was far out of practice. But these playful exchanges, lingering glances, and soft smiles made her stomach feel a certain way.
As the morning progressed, they fell into a comfortable and productive rhythm. For having no experience in the floral industry, Spencer did remarkably well. He was good at taking direction and great at asking for clarity, qualities Trinity found hard to come by in the men she’d met lately. They were in sync. All Trinity had to do was reach out her hand and say the color and Spencer would supply her with the perfect flower, properly stripped and ready for the vase. It made arranging a breeze. With Rachel, they would work on their own respective bouquets, but Trinity found she was able to create double the number of finished vases with this method. For the first time in days, she no longer felt behind.
And for the first time in twenty-four hours, she felt the sudden pangs of hunger. It had taken some time to get her appetite back, and even now she didn’t want to chance it. But they had to eat something. It was past noon, and she couldn’t be sure, but she thought she’d even heard Spencer’s stomach growl a little earlier. She couldn’t expect the man to work on an empty stomach.
She wiped her palms on her apron and looked over at her bouquet making partner. “What do you say we take a break to grab some lunch?”
“I was hoping we were on the same page there,” he said with visible relief in his eyes. His hand went to his stomach to rub a slow circle. “I had breakfast, but that was a long time ago. Getting hungry.”
“Cornerstone Café good with you?”
He grinned, flashing a big smile that pressed his dimples into his cheeks. Had she noticed those before? Goodness, they were cute. “Always. Love that place.”
It wasn’t a date, just two temporary coworkers sharing lunch. But the way Spencer pulled Trinity’s coat from the hook near the door and held it by the shoulders so she could ease into it, coupled with the manner in which he beat her to the door to open it for her to travel through first, made things feel like they might be more than just casual. The true test would be if he offered to pay for her, but she already knew the answer to that. There was no way a man like Spencer would allow her to foot her own bill. He would insist.
They walked as a pair down the sidewalk which was damp from the drizzle of a storm system making its way up the summit. Snow was expected by that evening. She wondered what that would mean for the horses and Mia’s lessons. Would they have to put everything on hold for the winter months? The very thought made something wither within Trinity, the fact that she might not have a reason to see Spencer for some time. But why would that bother her? They’d only just reconnected, and it wasn’t like they were a part of any sort of budding relationship.
“What’s on your mind?” His hands were shoved into his coat pockets, his shoulders to his ears as he turned his full upper half toward her, giving her his full attention. “You’ve gotten pretty quiet.”
“There’s a storm coming through. I saw it was expected to last through the weekend,” she said as they rounded the corner to Main Street. Workers were busy stringing lights on eaves and wrapping garland around lampposts. Even though they still had Halloween and Thanksgiving to get through, the town was already preparing for Christmas, its favorite holiday. She looked up at Spencer. “What do you do with the horses during these storms?”
“They pretty much just stay in the barn. We get too much snow to let them out into their pastures. One good storm would swallow Doodlebug whole.”
“Oh.” She pulled her gaze and looked forward. “I’ll have to tell Mia.”
Spencer cocked his head. “Are you asking if we’ll pause lessons during snow season?”
She nodded.
“I don’t think that will be necessary, especially since Mia’s not in the saddle and won’t be for some time. We can crosstie the horses in the barn aisle, so there’s still plenty of space to groom them and also keep out of the elements. Plus, stalled horses mean more stalls that will need mucking. It’s not glamorous by any means, but it’s all part of horse ownership. Those are the things I think Mia should learn before any actual riding lessons take place, anyway.”
Trinity liked that approach, teaching responsibility before riding. She appreciated Spencer’s down-to-earth perspective and that he wasn’t like so many others (herself included) that gave her children everything they wanted simply because of what they had been through. “That girl loves horses so much that I don’t even think scooping poop would deter her from being around them.”
“I don’t think a blizzard or tornado could keep her away. She’s what Nana Jo calls a certified horse girl.”
“Nana Jo has a name for everything. She calls me Flower Girl, which I told her makes me feel much too young, to which she replied that everyone is young compared to her,” Trinity said as they approached the café and walked inside. They found a cozy table near the window and were given menus even though she wouldn’t need them.
“I worry about her sometimes,” Spencer admitted after taking a seat. He opened the big menu but lowered it when his tone became more serious. “All of my life she’s been so spry and capable. Don’t get me wrong, Nana Jo is still very capable. But I do get the sense she’s beginning to slow down a little bit.”
“She deserves some downtime. Since Harris passed, she’s been singlehandedly keeping the ranch afloat. That’s no small feat by any means. And I know it’s not fully in your hands now, but I’m glad she has you around to help bear the weight of it.”
“Just doing my part.” He lifted the menu back up to make his selection.
“I’m pretty sure your part didn’t involve teaching a precocious five-year-old about horses. That might have kept you away.”
“Not a chance.” He closed the menu and propped his elbows onto the table, making direct eye contact with Trinity in such a way that she felt herself pull back just a little from the intensity in his gaze. “Mia’s got a lot of spirit, but it’s been a joy to be part of helping her learn more about horses. Besides, it’s given me a chance to get to know you better.”
“Had you wanted to get to know me better?”
She wished for a sudden interruption, their waiter coming by to take their orders or a dish clattering in the back of the diner that would seize everyone’s attention. She hadn’t meant to blurt that out. It had been a question she should have kept within the confines of her mind.
But before embarrassment could fully settle, Spencer answered, “Of course, I had. I’ve seen you come and go from the ranch house. Thought if I got to know you a little better first, then the question I’ve been wanting to ask wouldn’t seem so out of the blue.”
Was he going to ask her out? It felt like their conversation was moving in that direction. How should she answer? Was it too soon to start dating? After all, Calvin hadn’t even been gone a year. What would that look like from the outside? She rarely worried what others thought, but when it came to honoring her late husband’s memory and her commitment to their marriage, she found herself concerned with the possibility of being harshly judged.
“Trinity, I was wondering if?—”
Of course, she hadn’t been saved by the waitress earlier, but now, when she really wanted to know what Spencer was about to say, they found themselves cut off by a young woman with a half-apron around her middle and a notepad and pen in her hands. “Hey, you two!” she greeted perkily. “Have you had enough time to look at the menu?”
“I have,” Spencer answered. “How ‘bout you, Trinity?”
“I always get the same.” She looked up at the waitress. “I’ll take the turkey club with sweet potato fries and a side of ranch. And I’m good with water.”
The server turned toward Spencer.
“I’ll do the pastrami sandwich, no mayo if it comes on it. Water’s fine for me too.”
“And for your side?”
“Potato salad sounds good.”
The woman clicked the end of her pen and then stretched out a hand to collect their menus before moving on to the table next to them to retrieve their cups for drink refills.
It took a moment to settle back in. Trinity hoped Spencer would pick up right where he’d left off without needing a nudge or a reminder, but two more minutes went by without completing his previous thought.
She swallowed around the lump in her throat. Her curiosity simply would not allow her to continue their meal without answers.
“I think you were about to ask me something,” she finally gained the courage to say.
He’d been fidgeting with the straw in his water glass, but his eyes quickly lifted to hers. “Oh, yeah. That’s right.”
Had he truly forgotten? It seemed that he might not be that interested in her after all if he could so quickly forget their conversation, the one where he was just about to ask her out.
“I was wondering if you might like to?—”
“Sorry!” The waitress had suddenly materialized again at the edge of the table. “We’re actually out of pastrami. Can I interest you in something else instead?”
Spencer’s lips pursed and those dimples came out for a second time today. Trinity had to look away. Since when did she have a thing for dimples?
“Hmm.” He stroked his chin. “I guess I’ll do the turkey club too. That sounds good.”
“Potato salad still okay for your side?”
“Yep.”
“Perfect. I’ll get those out as soon as they’re ready.” The server pivoted on her heel to disappear to the back of the restaurant, and Trinity and Spencer were alone once again.
This was brutal. Trinity wasn’t sure she had it in her to redirect another time.
Thankfully, Spencer picked right back up. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking?—”
“Yeah?” She could punch herself for being the one to interrupt this time. She needed to let the man speak but her nerves weren’t cooperating with her mouth today.
“I have.” He smiled sweetly. “You know, my house is going to be finished in just a few weeks here. I’m going to need some help when it comes to the whole interior design thing. My previous home was a fifth wheel, so most of the furniture it came with was attached,” he added, chuckling. “I don’t know the first thing about decorations and I, uh, I thought it might be something you would like to help with.”
“Oh.” She hadn’t seen that coming. She was a florist that specialized in bouquets, which she guessed were considered decorations. But she had little to no experience with home décor, other than the decorations within her own, but currently the majority of those were made up of children’s toys, shoes, or books. There was no rhyme or reason to the design elements there.
“If you don’t have time or you aren’t interested—” Spencer started to say.
“No.” She reached across the table and touched his hand. “I’m definitely interested. I just don’t know that I’m very good. I didn’t go to school for anything like that. I just know how to stick flowers in a vase.”
She could sense the optimism fading from his eyes.
“But I’d love to help you however I can,” she amended.
“You need to give yourself more credit,” he said. “You don’t just stick flowers in a vase. You create beauty that blesses people.”
No one had ever gone so far as to make that claim. In her eyes, her arrangements provided temporary enjoyment while they lasted and then were later forgotten. Sure, they were used for special occasions, some joyous, others sad. Weddings and funerals. Proms and anniversaries. But to say they were a blessing? She didn’t know if that rang true.
“I’d love your help,” he said again. “And if you’re truly up for it, we can start today.”