Ellie
Building bouquets is my favorite part of working at the flower shop.
It gives my creative energy a place to live—just like the farm stand once did.
That’s why I had the idea in the first place: to create something from a blank canvas, something that was wholly mine, poured full of vision and intention.
But too much is tied to that place now.
When I came back and saw it again, I didn’t feel that same spark I had when I first dreamed it up.
Still, little by little, I’ve been spending more time there.
I stepped in for Aspen a few times after returning, and in the beginning, it was hard.
Now, when I think about it, though, it’s easier to be there than I expected.
But I’ve grown comfortable at Petal Pusher.
The routine Sandy and I share just… works.
And lately, I’ve felt lighter.
It’s been about a week since Logan and I first hooked up. Maybe two since we got back from the trip. I’ve avoided Miles since then, to give myself time and space to gather my thoughts. I knew eventually I’d have to face that situation, but for now, peace felt good.
His car wasn’t in my spot anymore. His music wasn’t blaring through the walls. The clanging of tools wasn’t a constant reminder of tension.
Things felt still. I felt still. My thoughts, for once, were quiet.
I’ve spent a lot of time reflecting lately on everything that’s happened over the past year.
Being with Logan has helped more than I’d ever expected.
Some nights, we’d curl up on his couch, other nights he’d come over to mine, and whenever I needed to talk, he’d just…
listen. He didn’t always have the right words, but he always made me feel like I had his full attention. That alone made all the difference.
I thought a lot about Buck too. About how he was my first love, how young I was, how raw it felt to be wanted like that for the first time. I gave him everything. And he took it all for granted.
But I know now not every first love ends in forever. Not everyone gets the kind of story Boone and Aspen have, and that’s okay.
Still, I couldn’t help but think about Rhodes.
If anyone knew heartbreak the way I did, it was him.
I’d been doing a lot more confronting than avoiding lately. And the idea of talking to Rhodes started to pull at me, just to see if he’d be willing to open up and maybe give me insight.
He was like another brother to me. We grew up together, and I always knew he’d have my back if I ever needed him. He was quiet about it, the silent protector type.
I was damn lucky to be surrounded by the kind of men who would step up for me, protect me without hesitation.
And now, I was curious.
How did Rhodes survive his heartbreak? What did it look like for him when the pieces didn’t fit back together? I hadn’t been around much during that time. I was too wrapped up in Buck to notice what went on.
I’d make a mental note to talk with him at some point.
With my body on autopilot, I slipped into my usual rhythm—building bouquets for tomorrow’s orders, stems in hand, thoughts drifting.
That was, until the bell above the door chimed.
My head jerked up, instinct tightening in my chest. The second I saw who it was, my face went hot.
Anxiety and anger churned in my gut like oil to water as he walked toward me—long strides, deliberate, confident.
I wanted to run. Desperately.
But he’d already seen me.
So instead, I did what I had to do. I straightened my spine, inhaled through my nose, and kept my voice as even as I could when I said, “What the hell do you want?”
He stopped in front of the counter, arms crossing over his chest like armor, like he expected the impact of my words.
“I wanted to talk to you,” he said, his voice softer than I remembered. Gentler.
But the last time we’d been in the same room, he hadn’t sounded gentle. He’d raised his voice—worse, he’d used the only thing he had over me: his physical strength.
Too bad for him, I had bite.
I was Boone’s sister. My mother’s daughter. I came from a long line of people who loved hard, stood tall, and treated others with kindness until they no longer deserved it.
“Well, I don’t particularly care what you want,” I said, turning back to the arrangement in front of me. “So if you could leave, I’ve got orders to fill.”
Miles let out a long breath, dragging a hand over his head, then down his face like he was already tired of trying.
“I wanted to apologize,” he said. “What happened that night, it wasn’t me. I’ve been under a lot of stress with the remodel and—”
I held up a hand, shaking my head.
I didn’t want to hear it. Not excuses. Not from him. The anxiety still simmered under my skin, but I kept myself steady—drawing on every ounce of strength I could summon.
“I understand stress,” I said, my voice low but firm. “But it doesn’t excuse what you did. Or how you handled it. You should never put your hands on anyone, let alone a woman. It had nothing to do with the fact you were stressed but everything to do with me rejecting you.”
He flinched, only slightly, before narrowing his eyes. “You may not be ready to hear me out now, but you will.”
And just like that, I pulled a page from Mac’s playbook. I crossed my arms and stared, silent. Letting my glare speak for me.
We stood there in a tense standoff until the black swinging doors burst open behind me.
Sandy charged into the room, her floral perfume curling through the air as she stepped up beside me like a shield.
“I’m pretty sure I heard her tell you to leave,” she said, calm but firm. “This is my shop. Which means my rules. And I think you need to get out.”
Miles didn’t stand a chance.
With Sandy at my side without even knowing the full story, my throat grew tight. Tears threatened to rise, but I pushed them down, inhaling hard, forcing the dam to hold. Not now. Not here.
Miles curled his lip in frustration, gave a half-hearted wave in our direction, then turned on his heel. The front door slammed behind him as he stormed out of Petal Pusher.
Only once he disappeared down the sidewalk and into his own shop did I let go.
The tension drained from my limbs, shoulders sagging under the weight of the confidence I’d forced myself to wear.
A quiet beat passed. The only sound was the low twang of country music humming from the shop’s speakers.
Sandy’s hand brushed gently against my forearm.
“Do you want to talk about it, sweetie?”
I shook my head.
“Not right now.”
Sandy nodded, her voice soft. “It’s almost closing time. What if you left early? I can finish up here.”
“I’m okay,” I told her. “Logan said he was coming by soon anyway. I’ll wait for him.”
She gave me a tight-lipped smile and a small nod before turning and disappearing through the swinging doors.
My heart nearly jolted out of my chest at the sound of the bell above the door. But the second I looked up and saw Logan, and not someone unwanted, my body began to relax. I could finally breathe again.
Relief rushed in, warm and grounding, and for the first time in over an hour, a smile tugged at my lips.
Just seeing him slowed the world down.
“Close your eyes, Ace,” he said, grinning with something hidden behind his back.
Bracing both hands on the counter, I did exactly that—eyes shut, heart open.
First came the soft brush of his fingertips under my chin, coaxing me closer gently. Then the press of his lips—warm, full, steady—landing on mine in a kiss so tender I nearly melted into it. He kissed me like I was something delicate. Precious.
Before I could even begin to crave more, he pulled back and whispered, “Okay, open up.”
My eyes fluttered open to a bouquet of fresh-picked wildflowers and a bag of my favorite candy. The kind of flowers that only grew wild on my family’s land.
And judging by his appearance, dirt-smeared, sweaty, rugged in that irresistible Logan kind of way, he’d come straight from work to me.
“Oh,” I breathed. “These are so pretty.”
I reached out to take them, smiling up at him as I bent down to grab a glass vase from under the counter.
“Good thing I work at a flower shop,” I teased.
With a few practiced fluffs, I arranged the flowers just right. “Voila! I’ll add water when I get upstairs.”
“I did pretty well, didn’t I?”
“You did perfect. The colors go together beautifully.”
I stepped out from behind the counter and melted into him. Logan’s arms wrapped around me like a cocoon, his chin resting on top of my head as he gently rocked us side to side. I didn’t realize how much I needed this until I was in it.
When we pulled apart, he studied me, that easy warmth in his expression giving way to something more serious.
“What’s wrong?”
I blinked. “How the heck do you know something’s wrong?”
“I can tell, Ace. I know you better than you think.”
His words wrapped around my heart like a bandage, tight and healing.
He waited, and I sighed, stepping back behind the counter to begin counting out the till. Partly to distract myself. Mostly to delay the conversation.
Logan didn’t push. He leaned a hip against the counter, casually waiting while I pretended to be too busy for a heart-to-heart.
Eventually, he started cleaning up around the store, helping so we could get out of there faster. Sandy was still working in the back, likely wrapping up whatever last-minute task had her attention.
“Miles came by today,” I blurted, the words catching even me off guard.
Logan froze, then straightened, storming to my side in three long strides. “Excuse me? Did he try to talk to you? Why didn’t you call me?”
“He did. But I shut him down,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant, though my voice wavered ever so slightly.
“What did he say? How did it go? Did he lay a hand on you? I swear—”
“Logan,” I cut in gently, laying both hands on his biceps. “Everything was fine. He didn’t put up much of a fight. Sandy came out, and he left.”
“Sandy? She scared him off?”
I nodded, biting my lip to keep from laughing as the tension in his shoulders finally eased. Logan let out a deep, belly-shaking laugh.
“What a wuss,” he muttered.
“Oh, you should’ve seen her,” I said with a giggle, crossing my arms and striking the same stance Sandy had used earlier. I mimicked her voice, adding a little extra sass: “This is my shop. Which means my rules.”
“I don’t sound like that,” Sandy called from the back as she appeared through the swinging doors, arching a brow. “If you’re going to tell the story, at least get it right.”
She winked at Logan and crossed over to collect the money I had already counted.
Logan and I exchanged a look, and he winked at me.
“You two go on and get out of here,” Sandy said. “It’s past closing time.”
With a few goodbyes, I stepped outside and climbed the stairs to my apartment above the shop. Logan kissed me once more before pointing at me and saying, “I still need to know more about this Miles conversation.”
I shooed him off.
“We are on a time crunch. Go home and shower! You stink.”
“We will be talking about this later,” Logan said, to which I responded by playfully rolling my eyes.
We both had to get ready to go to The Tequila Cowboy. It was far too long since we’d all been together. I was ready to get my dance on, see my found family, and get lost in the music.