There were times when I questioned my decision to move here at all. Baxter, about nine miles and six million lightyears southwest of O’Leary, wasn’t any larger either in population or landmass, but it didn’t have the same fuckingintensitythat O’Leary brought to every-damn-thing. In Baxter, we didn’t have elaborate festivals every second weekend. We didn’t have live entertainment at the farmer’s market, because we didn’thavea farmer’s market; we bought our produce at Wegman’s like normal people. We might know our neighbors, but we didn’t have the whole town on speed-dial, like we were all one big extended family. We didn’t live and die bywho got there first.
I sucked in a deep breath and exhaled it slowly.
Things were fine. I had a plan. Attitudes would change. I’d make sure of it.
“Hey, there.”
Startled, I looked up to find a tall, bearded dude standing to the right of the table. Acustomer. And here I was, too distracted by Constantine’s ridiculousness to even greet the man properly.
“Good morning,” I said smoothly. “Can I help you with something?”
“Micah’s Blooms,” he said, pointing at the banner hanging from the table. “You’re the shop in town with the pride flag hanging in front of your store?”
“Yes,” I said cautiously, but the man’s smile widened and warmed by several degrees.
“You have beautiful window displays.”
“Oh. Thank you,” I said, stunned by the rare compliment. “Can I interest you in some cut flowers? Or a potted plant?”
“Maybe, yeah. I’m Robert,” the man said, holding out his hand.
“Oh, right.” I nodded and shook it. “Micah.” I waited expectantly. “So. A bouquet? Or a plant?”
“What do you do besides flowers… Micah?”
I furrowed my brow. “Pardon?”
Robert shrugged a shoulder all the way to his ear and tilted his head. “I mean you can’t think about flowers twenty-four seven, right? Do you like to drink coffee?” His gaze was direct and his smile was definitely flirtatious.
“Occasionally.”
Leandra popped her head up and dusted her hands on her ass. “Are you kidding? Micah loves coffee.Livesfor coffee. Drink, drink, drink, all day long.” She grinned. “Isn’t that right, Micah?”
I gave the man a tight smile.
He was maybe thirty and good-looking—brown hair, brown eyes, brown beard, a nice, compact body beneath his skin-tight polo. He also seemed mature and very, very interested. There should’ve been no reason for me to hesitate. But I couldn’t help thinking of the fact that I had no time as it was—no time for my family, let alone my friends, let alone some guy who was gonna be all demanding and whatnot.
Business first. Personal shit would come later. When the time was right. Not all of us were interested in doing things the easy way.
I gave Con a little glare, but he wasn’t looking at me.
“Jeremiah! Jeremiah, get back here thisinstant!”
A little brown-haired boy giggled and grinned over his shoulder as a woman with haphazard red curls and a baby carrier chased after him. The boy ran down the aisle and ducked under the table where Con was standing.
“I’m not Jeremiah, I’m a dinosaur!” he yelled.
The mother knelt down as best she could with the bulky carrier strapped to her front. “Jeremiah! We don’t have time for this! We’re late as it is!”
“Sorry, ma’am, I haven’t seen anyone named Jeremiah,” Constantine told her. “There’s just me and my pet dinosaur.”
She gave a helpless laugh as she looked up at Con. “Is that so?”
“Yup. His name is Celery, because that’s all I feed him, he sleeps under my bed, and he does chores all day long because that’s his favorite thing.”
“No, it’s not!” he yelled.
“Oh my gosh! Celery!” Con peered under the table. “You cantalk?”
