Chapter 30
James
The next few days were a whirlwind of people, flowers, and quick trips for food, followed by collapsing into exhausted heaps.
But despite Marc’s smiles and animated conversations with customers—even those actually there to buy flowers and not just stop by to congratulate him on reopening the shop—he was phoning it in.
The spark that had propelled him through the renovation, that had snared me to the point where I didn’t believe it was possible to disentangle myself from him without losing vital parts, was noticeably absent.
At times, it only seemed dimmed, like when Martha Elcott requested a custom bouquet that conveyed how someone was a horrible cheat at cards.
But the rest? It was just… gone. And on a more selfish note, while Marc still smiled and teased me, he’d also stopped touching me.
Sure, there were still the occasional brushes by accident or to get my attention, but nothing like before.
To top it off, every time I asked if something was wrong, he looked at me like I was the one being weird, and his energy did that weird withdrawal-thing again.
Fortunately, I was doing the lunch run today, and I planned on using every second of my time away from the shop to get some much-needed advice, since clearly I wasn’t making any progress figuring this shit out on my own.
So, yet again, I found myself texting Andy.
There was something especially galling about having to get relationship advice for a relationship I wasn’t actually in from my little brother.
But I passed desperate the third day I woke up to Marc having already bought coffees before I could make any.
ME: You available? I could really use a talk.
Anderson: Give me 5
That gave me enough time to get well away from the shop and closer to my destination. Marc had suggested taking the car given the heat, but I didn’t want to mess up his seat settings and I needed the walk more. True to his word, Andy called five minutes later.
“Hey, I opted to take lunch early so we wouldn’t have to worry about getting cut off like last time. How are things? Is the shop doing well?” Andy asked, the sound of movement clear from his side of the phone.
I smiled at the symmetry. “The shop is doing great. Actually, picking up lunch myself.”
There was a noticeable pause, then, “You didn’t answer my other question. James, are you okay?”
“Not really,” I admitted, my throat tightening unexpectedly.
“Fuck,” he hissed, followed by the sound of hurried footsteps, then a door closing.
“Sorry, I was just getting somewhere more private. Huh, this is the same supply closet where… Never mind that. I’m sorry, I meant to follow up about your TMI thing and got sidetracked with an article. I’m assuming this is still about that?”
I let out a harsh breath and wiped the back of my neck where sweat was already beading. Damn humidity. “Honestly, your guess is as good as mine.”
“That doesn’t sound ominous at all. Okay, let’s start at the beginning. Without going super into detail, tell me what’s been going on.”
I turned down Church St. to make my way toward Sandra’s Place for the sandwiches I’d ordered ahead and filled him in on how the week had been going so far and Marc’s peculiar standoffish behavior.
“I’m sure I’ve done something to upset him, or maybe I’m reading too much into things and he really is distracted with the shop. I just… I don’t know.”
“Yeah… that doesn’t sound like it. Back up further. When we talked before, you were upset after having sex with Marc. Why?” Andy asked.
I paused outside the restaurant and debated the wisdom of having this conversation inside.
Deciding against it, I doubled back to rest against the wall in the shade.
“Upset isn’t the right word. More like in my head.
Not to get too into it, but the sex was amazing.
I haven’t… I haven’t felt that connected to someone in a really long time. ”
“Let me guess, that freaked you out.”
I huffed an ironic laugh. “That’s putting it lightly.”
“Okay. So, great sex, then what?”
“Then I was in my head. I hoped maybe a walk or something would help. But then I saw that he’d added the army ribbon to a bouquet that he’d made, and it was so beautiful and it had buttercups, and then I was talking to you, and then he was so weird afterward, and—”
“Hold up.”
I screeched to a verbal halt at Andy’s interruption. “What?”
“Back up. You said you went for a walk or were going to go for a walk, but ended up talking to me,” he repeated, as if that wasn’t what I’d literally just said.
“Yeah, and the bouquet,” I added.
“Forget the bouquet.”
I snorted. “I think you’re underestimating what this thing looked like. Here, I’m sending you the picture.” I quickly shot him the photo before my heart could do more than flutter at the image.
“Okay, wow, that’s… holy shit, that’s impressive,” he said, making me feel rather smug, “but that’s not my point. James, when did you go for your ‘not walk’ and end up talking to me?”
“I already told you—the following morning. Not even morning, really. Little hard to sleep when your brain won’t shut up,” I grumbled. Wasn’t he paying attention at all?
“Heaven save me from big lugs,” he muttered.
“James, I’m going to say this very slowly.
So, what you’re telling me is that you had what you viewed as deep, meaningful sex with someone you’re completely enamored with,” he paused and I already knew I didn’t like how this was going to end, “and then you let that person wake up alone. Did it ever occur to you that it might have been just as meaningful for him?”
“I mean, I’d hoped so, but clearly I’d read that wrong,” I huffed, my frustration getting the better of me.
“Let me finish.” I snapped my mouth shut, even though I kind of wanted to tell him off for being a bossy little shit.
Andy’s sigh was a cross between put-upon and something I couldn’t put a name to.
“Assuming it meant as much to him as it did to you, what sort of message do you think it sent waking up to find you’d gone? ”
My heart plummeted to my stomach. Why did it sound so simple when Andy said it? “I wasn’t… I didn’t… Do you really think that’s why he’s been off?”
“I can’t speak for Marc specifically, but it’s a big part of what led to me and Mitch not talking for four years. I mean, it’s more complicated than that, but it played a role. You won’t know unless you ask.”
“Okay, I’ll give it some thought. And, Andy? Thanks for talking with me. It’s nice feeling like I have a brother again.”
“Anytime, big bro. Same here,” he said before signing off.
I pocketed my phone and went inside the shop to pick up our order, where, by some twist of fate, I’d gotten here before it was ready.
On the upside, that gave me more time to turn over Andy’s words.
If he were right, then I’d inadvertently given Marc the impression that I thought what we had was casual when the reality was the furthest thing from it.
Which begged the question: What was I going to do to fix it?
Surprisingly, my answer wasn’t as hard to find as I expected.
It appeared first as an advert I spied on my walk back to the shop.
A few calls later, to double-check a few things, and I not only had my confirmation but also a reservation.
Now all I had to do was get Marc there and hopefully in a halfway decent mood.
As the day wound down, my excitement increased, and I was clearly doing a piss-poor job of keeping it in check if the furtive glances Marc kept shooting at me were any judge.
I waited impatiently as he walked across the shop to flip the sign to “Closed” and locked the front. Then he cracked his back with a groan.
I chuckled, and he shot me a look. “How about you take a hot shower, glow stick? I’ll finish up down here.”
He narrowed his eyes at me as he walked back toward the counter. It wasn’t as if the shop was a mess, but there were little odds and ends to take care of. “Why do I feel like you’re up to something?”
“Probably because I am.” I gave him a wide smile, loving how adorably his eyes widened with surprise.
“Should I be concerned?”
I walked around the counter to stand in front of him. “No. But after you get cleaned up, you should put on something nice.” I watched entranced as his Adam’s apple bobbed.
“Nice?”
“Mhmm. Nothing ridiculous. Just standard going out on a Friday night, nice.” I clarified.
He blinked. “But it’s Thursday,” he replied. Then what I’d said seemed to register, and his eyes got even wider while the faintest hint of pink touched his cheeks. “Wait, nice like a date?”
I leaned closer, testing the waters, curious if he would pull away or put distance between us as he had all week. When he didn’t, I chanced using a single finger to sweep his hair to the side. God, I missed touching him. “Yes, baby boy, like a date,” I practically purred.
“Oh, um, okay. Where are we going?”
“That is a surprise.” I booped his nose because he always made the cutest face when I did that. “Now go get ready. I’ve got this.” He searched my face for a moment, but ultimately didn’t protest before leaving me to it and heading upstairs to shower off and change.
By the time I finished cleaning up the shop, he’d finished showering and was picking out clothes when I hopped in to rinse off real quick.
Getting dressed in the bathroom filled with steam was less than ideal, but I was also trying to give him space while also preserving a semblance of “first date” vibes.
“Now will you tell me where we’re going?
” he asked when I walked into the living space, standing from where he’d been seated on the sofa.
I took him in from head to toe. Baby boy did not disappoint.
He was a goddamn snack in his dark, low-riding jeans and vibrant green Henley that made his eyes pop.
I resisted the urge to tackle him back to the cushions and maul him within an inch of his life, or better yet, until he was writhing in ecstasy.
Down, boy.
“Nope, but you can have the directions.” His pout was so cute that there was no stopping my laugh, which morphed his pout into a scowl and made me laugh more.
I walked closer and placed my hands on his waist, restraining myself from wrapping my arms fully around him.
“I promise you’ll enjoy it, and if I’m wrong, you can decide how I make it up to you. ”
He continued to give me a dubious look for a few more seconds before finally caving. “Fine, give me the directions.”
I wanted to kiss him more than anything, but I was behaving.
So I texted him the bare-bones address, and we were off.
Probably shouldn’t have surprised me that he got more anxious the closer we got to the restaurant.
After all, I’d gone out of my way to make sure it was one he’d neither been to nor heard of.
“Are you sure this is the way?” Marc asked, his driving slowing down to a veritable crawl on the dirt road.
“Just follow the directions, baby boy.”
He shot me another frown—pretty sure we were up to eight now—and muttered under his breath.
Then he turned around a copse of trees, and the dirt road opened onto an equally gravelly parking lot.
But that wasn’t what made Marc gasp. No, that honor belonged to the wooden structure on stilts at the back of the lot that butted right up to the water.
Lights hung in lanterns from picturesque eaves, and the slight rust effect on the tin roof added to the charm-like quality of the place.
There was even a little pier off to the side, lit by twinkle lights.