Chapter 27
Ever since Shayna approved the shelves I made for the back of her flower truck, I’ve been working nonstop on another series of wooden vases.
I grab the latest one from my workbench and continue sanding it.
I know Shayna already bought brown Kraft paper to wrap her bouquets in, but maybe she’ll have a use for these, too.
As I run the sander along the wood, I can’t help but smile because she’s going to be here any minute and we’ll go pick up her truck. I’ve seen her every day this week that I haven’t been at the fire station, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t falling for her.
I always desire to be around her. I think about her every night before I fall asleep, and she’s my first thought in the morning.
I’m attracted to everything about her, and she makes me feel more safe and more comfortable than anyone else in my life.
And I have something with her I’ve never experienced before: an emotional connection.
I thought she needed a guy more like her.
Exuberant. Overflowing with positivity. Someone with a larger-than-life personality who knows exactly what they want.
Meanwhile, I’m this reserved man who struggles opening up to people and was fine being alone.
But she walked back into my life and changed everything I knew about myself.
And maybe Tyler was right about needing to let Shayna decide for herself what she needs and wants.
And from our recent conversations, she’s made it extremely clear that she wants me. Just as I am.
I set the wood vase I just finished sanding down and grab my phone.
After opening the Photos app, I scroll until I find the picture I took of Shayna in front of the flower truck.
Even though I know she was disappointed at the state of the truck, she still looked optimistic with her arms up in the air and her wide smile.
This is for her. I look around at all the wooden vases I’ve made over the past month.
The realization hits me like the blast of a firehose: they’re my favorite thing to build because they remind me of her.
It’s been her all along. Before I realized I wanted anything other than a reclusive life.
Before I recognized my feelings for her.
Before all of this, there was always her.
The girl I taught how to slow dance. The girl who encouraged me to tell my parents about my dreams to be a firefighter. She became the woman who helped me find my confidence. The woman who lit up my gray skies.
I’m not sure when it happened. If it was slow or all at once. I’d like to believe I’ve been slowly falling for her all along but was too blind to notice.
But I see her now.
“Knock, knock.” Shayna peeks her head into my shed.
“You’re early.” I quickly close out my phone screen, but there’s no time for me to hide all the wooden vases.
“Sorry, I couldn’t wait at home any longer.”
“Too excited to go pick up Daffodil?” I ask.
Shayna smiles. “You remembered her name.”
“She’s important to you, so she’s important to me.”
Her bottom lip quivers. “I think I’m going to be a puddle after today.”
I wipe my hands on my jeans and then walk over and pull her into my arms. I tangle my fingers in her hair.
I don’t know what kind of magic shampoo and conditioner she uses to get it so soft and shiny, but I hope she never stops using it.
I kiss the top of her head. “Then you’d be my favorite puddle. ”
Shayna lets out a watery laugh and pulls back, wiping the tears from her cheeks. “Thanks. I can wait by your truck if you need to finish whatever you were—” She looks over at my workbench, her words effectively cut off. “What is that?”
If she didn’t know my feelings for her were real before, she’s about to.
I slide my hands into my jacket pockets and walk across the shed with her.
She runs her hand along the smooth wood.
The current series of vases I’m creating all have the wood at a diagonal angle, forming a fun shape.
It made it a little trickier to get the glass interior added to hold the water and flowers, but I was able to figure it out.
“A vase.”
She glances up at me. “You make vases?”
“Funny story.” I go over to my storage closet and close my eyes before opening the door. “They’re actually my favorite pieces to create.”
Shayna walks over, looking at the countless vases on the shelves in awe. “Con.” She clears her throat like she’s trying to compose herself. “These are stunning.”
“Thanks.” I dip my head at her praise.
“Seriously, you could sell these.”
“Or I could gift them to a certain flower truck owner.”
She turns to face me and tugs at the bottom of her quilted floral jacket. “You can’t just give them to me. These could be worth a lot of money.”
“I don’t think people will want to buy wooden vases from a nobody.”
Shayna reaches over and squeezes my hand. “You’re somebody to me.”
I can’t help but smile at her statement. I have a feeling I’m going to be smiling a lot more, having her in my life. “You know, I started making them years ago in Seattle, but I didn’t realize why until today.”
“And why is that?” She smiles up at me, and it takes all my willpower not to kiss her. I won’t let our first kiss be in my shed that smells of sawdust and wood stain. It needs to be someplace as special as Shayna—like a field of flowers or under a dogwood tree in bloom.
“They reminded me of you.” I trace the pad of my thumb across the back of her hand. “And I think that made me feel like I always had a little piece of home with me.”
“Con.” The hazy look in her eyes and the breathiness in her tone have me second-guessing my resolve to not kiss her in here. But no, this is the place you kiss after you’ve already done it tens or hundreds of times.
I glance at the clock on the wall. “We need to head out.”
Shayna places her hands on her hips as her face falls slightly, but she quickly recovers with a smile. “Let’s go get my Daffodil.”
“Gotta grab something first.” I hold up a finger. “I’ll meet you at my truck.” I jog inside my house and make my way into the kitchen. I grab the strawberry matcha I picked up for her from her favorite café this morning out of the fridge and hurry outside, locking the front door behind me.
Her face lights up when she sees what I’m holding. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I wanted to.”
She takes a sip, then closes her eyes with a soft smile on her lips. Waking up a little early to get Shayna her favorite drink is something I’d gladly do on my off days if it means I can make her happy.
When we pull into Pat’s Auto Body, Shayna’s legs are bouncing so fast that it’s shaking my truck. I reach over and set my hand on her knee, and she seems to settle at my touch. “You ready?”
“Yeah.” She shudders in a breath, then lets out a dry laugh. “I don’t know why I’m so nervous.”
“I’d be shocked if you weren’t nervous.” I squeeze her knee. “This is a big moment.”
She takes a deep breath and nods. “Okay, I’m ready.”
We walk to the entrance of the shop, and Shayna tosses her empty matcha cup in the trash before grabbing my hand.
I open the door for her, and she pulls me inside, still clinging to my hand like I’m the source of her strength.
It’s ironic because I feel like she’s the one that bolsters me, but I’m happy to support her in this moment.
“Well, I’ll be darned.” Pat pops up from his desk, staring at our joined hands.
“I knew there was something between you two. People don’t look at each other like y’all do without there being some major feelings there.
” He points at me with a smirk like we’ve been in on a months-long joke together. “You got me good.”
Shayna moves to let go of my hand, probably thinking I’m uncomfortable with all the attention.
I kind of am, but I want to show her off even more.
Let Pat know he’s never going to have another shot at asking out Shayna Monroe because she’s taken.
I squeeze her hand, and she looks up at me with slightly raised brows.
Looking into her eyes seems to be the cure for all my worries.
My shoulders fall as tension leaves my body. There’s nothing else. Only her.
She reaches over with her free hand and grasps my forearm. She shoots me a shy smile before turning to Pat. “Would you mind taking us to the truck?”
He sweeps his arm as if he’s rolling out the red carpet for us. “Right this way.”
Pat leads us through the back door of the shop, and I immediately spot Daffodil in all her yellow glory.
The moment Shayna sees her, she lets out a small gasp, immediately followed by a squeal of delight. She rocks on the balls of her feet and grips my hand and arm like she can’t believe this is real.
I nudge her with my elbow. “What are you waiting for?”
Shayna lets go of my arm and steps in front of me, our connected hands between us.
She slowly backs toward the truck, pulling me with her, while wearing a wide grin.
The sun is perfectly positioned behind her, casting her in a golden hue.
It almost looks like a halo, which seems fitting since she’s the closest thing to an angel I’ve ever seen.
I return her smile, and we walk over to the truck. She pulls me to a stop a few feet away. To no surprise, she has tears in her eyes and a smile on her lips.
“I can’t believe she’s mine,” she whispers.
“Well, you’d better believe it,” I say.
“The shade of yellow is perfect.”
I walk around the truck, taking everything in. All of the rust and imperfections are gone, leaving behind this new flower truck ready for a new, full life. “Come look at what your buyers will see at markets.” I wave her over, hoping she’ll like the special request I sent to Pat without her knowing.
The look of pure joy on her face when she spots the logo I custom-designed for her on the passenger door is the one I want emblazoned in my memory when I’m eighty years old and reminiscing about the past. I want to picture her exactly as she is now, filled with surprise and bliss.
And I’m hit with another overwhelming realization: I want to be the reason she smiles like this for the rest of my life.
Shayna turns to me, misty-eyed. She really wasn’t kidding about this whole becoming a puddle thing today. “I can’t believe you did this for me.”
“I’d do anything for you.”
Go to family and public events. Participate in as many pickup baseball games as she wants to watch me play. Spend hours in the botanical gardens until her heart is content.
I’d do anything she asked me just to see that look of inexplicable radiance again and again.