Chapter Four
The clean sharp smell of greenery blended with a mix of lush florals washed over Colt when he pushed open the back door to his mama’s shop.
Candles and ready-to-go floral arrangements shared space on antique shelves and tables with an array of gifts and home goods.
Colt pulled in a deep breath — coming in here sometimes felt more like home than the actual house he’d grown up in.
When he’d been little, Mama had brought him to work with her, and once he started school, he’d gotten off the bus here, spent his afternoons in the upstairs room or playing in the side yard.
“Colt.” Pleasure lit Mama’s face, and she laid her shears down, abandoning an arrangement to hurry around the counter.
“Hey, Mama.” Plastic bag of Kebo’s takeout hooked over his wrist, he grinned then wrapped her in a tight hug before stepping back so she could look at him.
If he knew anything, it was how his mama operated.
Untangling himself from the plastic, he nodded as Mrs. June bustled in from the front room.
“Hey, Mrs. June. Brought your favorite lunch.”
“Oh, Sue, this boy.” Mrs. June leaned up to buss his cheek. “Thank you.”
“Y’all been busy?” He unpacked containers and laid out plastic cutlery.
“Pretty steady.” Perching on the stool behind the counter, Mama flipped open the lid on her foam container to reveal her chicken salad plate with home fries on the side.
Mrs. June carried her food back to the front room and whatever she was puttering with up there.
“Andrea Yates came in to order center arrangements for that Thanksgiving night party your friend Scott throws every year.”
“Yeah?” Colt didn’t correct her misconception that he and Scott Barlow were friends.
Barlow and Lamar were buddies, Holly and Barlow were friends, but even before Colt had messed up with Lamar, he and Barlow hadn’t interacted much.
Nothing against the guy – they simply had nothing in common and Scott was kind of an ass.
In the past, Holly had helped Barlow with that shindig. Wonder why she wasn’t this year?
“Hmmm.” Mama popped a home fry in her mouth and waved a hand like she was sprinkling fairy dust. “She wants ‘spare and elegant’ with candles and some kind of greenery and white flowers.”
“Sounds nice.” A spurt of humor tugged at his mouth. Holly would be doing composition photos of those flower arrangements for sure. She was worse with that camera than she’d been with that vinyl-cutting machine.
“Your daddy and I rode by the house last night, but you weren’t home.” Mama shook her head. “That dog was racing around the back yard like he has no sense.”
“He doesn’t.” His grin widened. Ralph was a mess, first pouting if he didn’t get his way, then bursting into paroxysms of joy on a moment’s notice. He forked up a bite of greens. “Holly and I rode over to Moultrie for dinner.”
“Oh.” A hint of intrigue flared in Mama’s hazel eyes, but he kept his expression impassive. He wasn’t ready to share the miracle that was Holly wanting him with her. She’d be planning wedding flowers before he knew it, and he didn’t want to jinx this.
“Yeah.” He lifted his smoked pork chop, a different smile curving his mouth. “I got a promotion, and she treated me to supper to celebrate.
Mama’s eyes rounded, a pleased sound escaping her. “A promotion? Really?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Her surprise shouldn’t hurt his feelings, but it kinda did. “Warehouse route manager. Herb’s moving up to district manager and started training me for his spot today.”
The office made him a little nuts, but they’d ordered one of those desk tops that raised and lowered so he wouldn’t be sitting all the time. That helped.
“And you told Holly Callahan first?” A hint of hurt darkened her eyes.
“Well, I knew you and Daddy were at church.” Maybe that would fly.
Lord help him if she ever figured out his first instinct had been to tell Grandma and Grandaddy.
He loved his parents, but there were all these .
. . layers. He got why he carried all their expectations – maybe if his sister had lived more than an hour, that would have been different – but the situation still pressed in and suffocated him sometimes.
“Holly was dropping off some dog food I ordered for Ralph, and we got to talking, then she offered to take me to supper.”
“I see.”
“I am here, telling you now, Mama.”
“You are.” She smacked a light hand on the counter, smiling. “And I’m pleased as punch, too. Wait until I tell your daddy. He’ll be proud.”
“He will.” He forced one corner of his mouth up to a lopsided grin. “Sure I’ll hear all about it at golf Saturday morning.”
“I know you will.” Mama dipped her fork in her chicken salad. “Your Uncle Bill and Kevin will be here for Thanksgiving.”
“That’s good.” He hid his smile with a bite of pork chop.
The Calvert family Thanksgiving had been Mama’s domain since Grandma and Grandaddy had downsized.
Last year, she and Daddy had come down with the flu, Bill and Kevin had gone to Vail, his grandparents had been RVing across the country, and Lenora had been immersed in Lamar’s new family, so there’d been no Calvert family Thanksgiving on Wednesday night.
Mama had been devastated. “Daddy smoking a turkey?”
“Boy, you know he needs more than one for all y’all.
” She looked pleased as punch, too. This time he didn’t try to conceal his smile.
He liked seeing her happy. The house would overflow with seasonal floral arrangements, and she’d send them home with people.
She shook her head on a rueful chuckle. “At least he isn’t trying to fry them. ”
“Lord, no.” The memory pulled a laugh up from his chest. He’d told Daddy that was a bad idea, but D had wanted to “try it out, just once.” The man had almost burned down the garage, the result being the driest turkey Colt had ever choked down.
“You’re gonna come help him, right?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He made a mental note to ask Holly to keep that Wednesday night open so she could come with him.
Speaking of asking Holly . . . he needed to find something for them to do Friday night.
He pulled his phone from his pocket. Hadn’t he seen something on WALB about a photography exhibition in Thomasville?
“Colt.” Patient reproof laced his name, and he glanced up to meet Mama’s chiding gaze. He’d lived a good portion of his life under that expression.
“Sorry, Mama.” With a grimace, he tucked his phone away. “Just thought of something on the spur of the minute.”
He’d work on that Friday night plan later, but before he started his route again, he’d text her, make sure she knew to clean up good and what time he’d pick her up. When it came to planning date nights, he was decent, maybe even pro level.
One thing he knew was how to be a good boyfriend, how to listen and build someone up, how to respond to spoken or unspoken needs.
And he knew how to plan a great evening out.
Tyler hadn’t wanted him the way he was as a person – she complained he was too complicated and not easy enough – but she hadn’t complained about the dating aspect of their relationship.
Holly liked him, so he was already starting out in a better place.
After he wrapped up lunch with his mother and had been wrapped into another choking hug, he texted Holly on the way to his truck.
Save Friday night for me
Bubbles hovered before manifesting into Ooh, what are we doing?!
That too-wide grin she inspired hurt his face. It’s a surprise
Oh, Lord, no. You can’t do this, Colton
He laughed out loud, warm despite the damp chill of an overcast Georgia November afternoon. It’s ONE DAY, Holly
Her reply was an emoji sticking out its tongue.
He swung into the driver’s seat, but didn’t fire the engine yet.
He wanted to ask about tonight, but hell, he didn’t want her to feel smothered or him to look too needy, even if this agreement to be more than friends had unleashed a flow of eagerness that rivaled Ralph’s.
He just wanted to be around her, all the time.
Hey, you know you want to come grill for us while I edit Mary Grace’s engagement photos
Even as relief flooded him, he lifted a brow. You just want to use me so you don’t have to cook
I want to use you in other ways but you said we had to take things slow
A guffaw worked loose from his chest. Holy hell, he had his hands full with her.
Behave. I’ll stop at Carroll’s and see you about five-thirty or six
A thumbs-up popped on the corner of his text, and he grinned, sticking his phone in his pocket and reaching for the ignition.
Hell, yes, he’d grill for her. Seeing her under their new parameters meant he could look at her to his heart’s content, touch her, kiss her.
Their goodnight kiss had been better than anything he would never have let himself imagine before.
On her front porch, she’d framed his face with her hands and smiled up at him, stepped impossibly close and lifted her mouth to his.
He’d gone up like a months-old brushpile, both hands spread over her spine, her lips hot and soft, all coffee and cinnamon and something uniquely her.
He’d taken the kiss as slow as he could because he hadn’t wanted it to end.
Damn, with her to look forward to, he was ready to get this day done.
Dark hovered beyond the deck, but the string lights and heater dispelled both the gloom and the chill.
Holly adjusted the light saturation on the sweet shot she’d caught of Mary Grace and Kaleb just before he’d kissed her on the railroad tracks.
They were young, like twenty at the most, but so adorable, and the way Kaleb looked at her, all besotted and in awe?
That squeezed Holly’s chest tight every time she looked at this photo.
She wanted to capture the soft edges of those emotions because the feelings were important. Squinting, she flipped a filter on and back off.