With his hand in mine I felt stronger, bolder. Ready to make things happen, knowing I’d always have a soft place to land.
“You dream a new dream, babe,” he said.
“Simple as that?”
“Simple as that.”
I mean, what was I supposed to do then but press myself against him and give him the kiss of our lives? I didn’t give a shit whether my motherand all of O’Learycame through the door and caught us—let themcatch us—because what Micah and I had was not something I’d ever hide or compromise on again.
And I realized maybe Micah was right. Maybe it reallywasthat simple. Maybe life wasn’t about having a plan, or having things figured out in advance. Maybe it was about finding the right person to figure things out with and dreaming along with them. Maybe love—finding it, wanting it, and learning how toacceptit—was the secret all along.
Epilogue
Micah
May— 15 months later
“Hey, everyone! Welcome to this year’s first Rushton-O’Leary Farmer’s Market!” Pete Daley’s voice rang over the fairgrounds, loud as ever. “We’re the Daley News and we’re so happy to be back with you for the third year in a row!”
Ah, O’Leary. Where the more things changed, the more things stayed the same.
There was a polite smattering of applause from the gathered crowd… including from the man across the aisle, who leaned his arms on the top of his table and smirked at me.
“Enjoying the entertainment, Mr. Bloom?” the troublemaker demanded, loud enough for everyone around us to hear.
Theo, who was working in the booth with him, rolled his eyes. Lauren snickered from the comfort of the lawn chair she’d set up behind my table. She was heavily pregnant with her third baby and due in a few weeks, but she’d insisted on coming today for “moral support,” which was code for bearing witness to Constantine’s shenanigans.
“Why, yes, Mr. Ross,” I called back. “I was just thinking to myself how comforting the familiarity of this place is.”
“Now that’s not true,” Con chided. “Lots of things change. For example?” He waved a hand over his head, gesturing at theRoss Landscape and Designbanner hanging there. “Thisis barely a year old.”
Constantine’s company had taken a little extra time to get off the ground because hehadn’twanted me to be his financial backer. But the solution we’d figured out, one that involved his mother leaving the florist game entirely, had ultimately been the best thing for everyone.
I grinned. “I suppose that’s true. But maybe that’s just the exception that proves the rule.”
“Well, there’s this,” Constantine said, pointing to the ring on his left hand. “You might not have heard, but I’mengaged.”
“Pretty sure there’s no one in Upstate New York who hasn’t heard,” Theo muttered, loud enough to carry.
I whistled appreciatively. “Thatissome nice hardware,” I agreed. And I would know. I’d had the two-tone tungsten ring specifically designed so that Constantine could wear it while working without damaging it. And I’d given it to him three weeks ago, on oursecondbeach vacation.
By now, Constantine had officially seen an oceanandthe Gulf of Mexico, and I was hoping we’d expand that list when we took our honeymoon… which wouldn’t happen until we managed to pick a date for the wedding, but I was trying to be patient. After all, Constantine’s new business was still in its infancy, and mine was getting busier than ever.
“Nothing wrong with trying new things, Mr. Bloom.” Constantine said.
“Yes, we all know you’re a great lover of variety,” I said blandly, pretending to be very busy tweaking the flower pots in my display by tiny, tiny increments. “In your stock, I mean.”
I could practically feel my man’s narrow-eyed glare singeing my skin, and I knew I was going to pay for this comment when we got back to our apartment over the shop. The little space had finally started to feel like a home once Con was there, and I was almost a little sad that we’d put a down payment on a pretty little Craftsman not too far from the store.
Almost.
“Oh, not anymore,” Constantine said. “When you find a decent supplier, you stick with them. I mean, you’d know that better than anyone, right?”
No one around us seemed to be paying any particular attention to our conversation. And to the casual observer, we were talking about the long-term arrangements we’d made between Ross Landscaping and Design, Micah’s Blooms, and Angela’s company, which was now known as Ross Floral Supply. The arrangement we’d made to save Marissa Corcoran’s wedding had worked so well, we’d expanded on the idea. Now Angela’s greenhouses and nursery supplied nearly all my regular stock and most of Constantine’s, too.
But I was much more concerned with another part of Con’s statement… and the other side of the conversation we were having.
“Decent?” I glared right back. “I think yoursupplieris a little better than decent.”
