5. Ellie
ELLIE
Today was going to be a better day.
That’s what I chose to tell myself as I drove into work, my fingers curled tightly around the steering wheel, determination pulsing through me.
After the emotional meltdown I’d had the other day, I knew I needed to pull myself together.
Living this way, constantly on edge, was not benefiting me in the slightest.
I cracked my window, letting the crisp morning air rush in and fill my lungs. The early sun, soft and golden, brushed against my skin. It felt like a reset—a small gift from the universe, wrapped in orange skies and the quiet hush of a town just waking up.
This. This was one of the things I loved about Faircloud.
There was something sacred about these early hours, when the light was low and slanted, pouring over the mountains. The world felt soft. Kind. And for a minute, so did I.
I was feeling great.
Right up until I turned the corner and saw that damn Mercedes.
Parked in my spot. Again.
The calm I had worked so hard to build shattered like a dropped glass.
“You son of a bitch,” I hissed, slamming my palm against the steering wheel as frustration surged through me.
He had balls to take liberties. The noise. The parking spot.
I let out a humorless laugh. Today, I wasn’t just going to swallow it down and move along. No. Nope. Not at all.
I jerked the gear into park right in front of the alley, intentionally blocking in his stupid, too-clean, too-perfect car.
Let him try to leave without dealing with me first. He’d either have to reverse down the one-way or sit tight until I felt like moving.
I didn’t care if I got a ticket. I’d pay that fine with a smile on my face.
Yanking open the glove box, I dug out a napkin, then fumbled in my purse for a pen. My fingers trembled with pure annoyance as I scrawled out my very official note:
Dear Annoying Neighbor,
This is my parking spot. Kindly move your fancy car somewhere else. If not, prepare to face the consequences of your actions.
Sincerely,
The neighbor you keep irritating
Climbing out of my truck, I stomped toward his car.
I lifted his pristine windshield wiper and tucked the note right where he couldn’t miss it.
Though, if I’m being honest, there was a good chance he would miss it.
Every time I’d seen him, he’d been glued to his phone or lost in his own world, barely noticing anything or anyone around him.
Still, I left it there like a little grenade waiting to go off.
Then, chin high and mood slightly improved from the petty thrill of retaliation, I turned and marched into the shop to start my day.
The soft hum of my playlist filled the flower shop, something light with a twang—just the way I liked it. I hummed along, spinning and gliding across the hardwood floors, the scuff of my cowboy boots echoing through the empty space. My one-woman show in full bloom.
Well, almost one-woman.
Sandy was in the back office today, working on invoices or inventory or who-knows-what, and honestly, it was kind of nice having her here. I didn’t always love sharing the space, but Sandy wasn’t bad company. Especially when I needed some cookies, I always knew she had them on deck.
The morning had gone surprisingly smooth.
A slow trickle of customers gave me plenty of time to freshen up the bouquets and weed out the wilted stems—the sad little guys who had lost their will to bloom.
I even had time to update the sidewalk board, the one that usually lured in impulse buyers with its cheerful quotes and pretty, hand-drawn flowers.
Armed with chalk markers and the blackboard, I plopped everything onto the counter and rolled up my nonexistent sleeves, ready to unleash my inner Picasso. I started with a cheerful daisy in the corner, my hand steady, lip tucked between my teeth in deep concentration.
I’d nailed the curved petals. Each one better than the last—so beautiful I’d even go as far as to say they were frame-worthy. My marker hit the chalkboard, ready to completely the daisy when—
Bang.
The sound came out of nowhere, like a cannon going off in the next room. My body jolted, and my once-perfect daisy now had an abstract squiggle slicing through it. I stared at it in horror.
“Are you kidding me right now?” I hissed, slamming the marker down so hard the cap popped off and rolled away, like it didn’t want to be involved in the drama.
Another bang echoed through the wall. And that was it. Zen? Dead. Daisy? Murdered.
I was now a woman on a mission.
I marched through the swinging black doors to the office, where Sandy was peacefully typing away like we didn’t work next door to a human jackhammer.
“Sandy!”
She jumped, her glasses sliding halfway down her nose as she stared at me.
“Oh, dear…” she muttered, slowly removing her glasses.
“I’m going next door. I need you to watch the floor,” I snapped, pointing like an overly dramatic flight attendant before spinning on my heel and storming off. Her chair squeaked as she stood, her sensible loafers scurrying after me, but I was already halfway to the front door.
The bell jingled as I threw open the door and let it slam shut behind me. I stomped down the sidewalk toward the source of my rage and barged into the unit next door.
Immediately, I was hit with a wall of noise. Some kind of hip-hop medley blared from a speaker in the corner, bass pounding hard enough to rattle my sternum. Honestly, I was impressed I hadn’t heard that through the wall.
The space was chaos—dust-covered tools, power cords, and boards scattered across the floor. It looked like a Home Depot had exploded and no one had bothered to clean up.
I glanced around until I found the source of the sound and walked angrily over there to turn off the speaker.
“Hello?” I yelled.
No answer. Just a grunt and a loud thud, like something heavy had hit the ground. A shadow moved down the hall.
I folded my arms across my chest and waited. Fuming.
Then he appeared.
Tall. Broad-shouldered. Black hair cropped short. And those eyes—blue. Offensively blue. The kind of blue that made you forget why you were mad in the first place, which I refused to do.
His dark jeans fit him like a glove, and his carpenter’s belt slung low across his hips looked like it was holding tools, but I was too busy staring at his arms to fully focus.
This was the first time I’d seen him up close. The man was good-looking in that clean, precise way I wasn’t at all used to. Conventionally handsome. Then he smiled, pearly-white teeth shone back at me.
Were his eyebrows… tweezed?
“Hi,” he said with a smirk, his voice a whole lot softer—and much smugger—than mine had been. He walked toward me, stopping just a few feet away, close enough that I had to tilt my head back slightly to meet his eyes. Great. He was tall. Of course he was tall.
“Can you please keep it down over here?” I asked, skipping right over the pleasantries. I wasn’t in the mood for small talk, and honestly, I never had been. Especially not with people who parked in my spot and negatively increased my heart rate before noon.
He chuckled, and the smirk didn’t budge from his mouth. “I can’t exactly silence a drill.”
“Well then,” I shot back, squaring my shoulders. “Stop parking in my spot.”
His eyes danced as he tilted his head, mirroring my stance. “Is your name on it?” he asked, his gaze unapologetically dragging from the tips of my boots to the crown of my head.
That slow perusal sent a jolt straight through me. His eyes weren’t just looking—they were appreciating with a slow perusal from head to boots. When they finally landed back on mine, something shifted. His expression softened, eyelids dipping just enough to make my pulse hiccup.
No one had ever looked at me like that before. Not like they were curious and undressing me in their head.
I swallowed and cleared my throat, forcing my voice to stay steady. “Would that be enough to keep you out? Because I have chalk and I’m not afraid to use it.”
He gave a low whistle and nodded, his grin widening. “You’re sassy. I had a feeling.”
“What the hell does that mean? You had a feeling?”
“Just from looking at you, neighbor. I knew you had bite.”
“Oh, really?” I raised a brow. “Psychic, are you?”
“I’m just surprised it took you this long to come over here.”
My jaw ticked. “It’s not like I wanted to come over here in the first place.”
Instead of answering, he shifted his weight, sliding his hands into the front pockets of his jeans like he had all the time in the world.
His posture changed—relaxed, confident, annoyingly comfortable.
He was settling into this conversation, while I’d planned to be in and out in under a minute with a warning and a death glare.
“Your name is Ellie, right?” he asked, completely ignoring my question. And there was that look, like he was stringing invisible rope between us, tugging me closer with nothing but the pull of his gaze.
“Yes.” Ugh. Why did I answer that?
“Miles,” he replied, like we were shaking hands and starting fresh.
“I didn’t ask,” I muttered.
He laughed—really laughed—his head tipping back as he shook it in disbelief. “See? Sassy.”
I gritted my teeth and crossed my arms, doing everything I could to keep from showing how much that laugh got to me. Or how he made my skin buzz like a live wire. He was charming. The dangerous kind. The kind that knew it.
“Look,” I said, fighting to stay on task, “all I want is for you to be a little more respectful about the noise and my parking spot. I’ve got customers coming in and out all day, and I’m trying to draw my pretty little flowers in peace. Your drill is killing my vibe.”
His smile lingered, but he nodded. “Okay.”
That was it. Just… okay.
I blinked. “Wait, really?”
He shrugged. “Really.”
Well, now I didn’t know what to do with myself. I came in ready for battle, not… surrender.
“Thanks,” I muttered, a little thrown off, turning on my heel before I could say anything else embarrassing. As I walked away, I told myself not to look back. Not to let him see how rattled I was.
But I couldn’t stop it.
At the last second, I glanced over my shoulder to where Miles stood—arms crossed, staring directly at me. Instantly, flutters in my stomach caught me off guard, and I swallowed hard.