We’re washing plaster off our hands in the back room when the bell over the door jingles. I ease around the corner, expecting Missy swinging by with coffee. But it’s Marlene from the flower shop.
I freeze for half a second. She’s probably one of the last people I expected to see in here.
Stormy comes up beside me, laughing softly, her face flushed from my whispered comment about how she’s got me so undone I’d take her right here on the counter if she’d let me. Her hair’s streaked, and her cheeks are pink. We must look ridiculous covered in plaster, grinning like idiots.
Marlene pauses just inside the doorway, eyes flicking between us. And then she smiles. Not tight-lipped or polite. A real smile.
Stormy straightens, her laugh fading.
“Oh … hi,” she says, voice tentative. “Can I help you?”
I shift closer, instinctively placing a hand on the small of Stormy’s back. Ready to step in if Marlene’s about to go off again like she did at book club. Stormy doesn’t need that today. Not after the week she’s had.
But Marlene just nods, her gaze softening.
“I’m Marlene,” she says, stepping forward. “From the flower shop. I heard you’re planning writing workshops for kids?”
My mom must’ve given her two cents about the bookstore after Stormy and I left yesterday.
Stormy blinks.
“Yes,” she says slowly. “I … I’ve been thinking about it. Hoping to start something when we open.”
Marlene smiles again, this time with something like warmth.
“I’d love for my daughter to be involved. She’s shy, but she loves stories. I think this could be good for her.”
Stormy’s mouth opens, but nothing comes out. I watch her shoulders lift, then drop, like she’s bracing for something that doesn’t come.
“I know I had things to say back in book club,” Marlene continues. “And I apologise. I’ve had a bit of time to think about this little shop of yours, and … I’m starting to see it’s a good thing. Not a bad one.”
Stormy’s eyes widen, lips parting in surprise. She glances at me, and I catch the smile blooming across her face. I smile back. Then she turns that smile on Marlene.
She leads Marlene towards the counter to talk through details, and I stand back, watching.
She looks back at me, a big smile stretching across her face, and the pride that blooms in my chest is overwhelming.
She’s doing it—building something, earning trust, and making space for herself in a town that didn’t know what to do with her at first.
She’s not just holding her own, she’s changing minds.
And damn if I’m not the luckiest man alive to be standing beside her while she does.
I give her a subtle thumbs-up, hoping she can see just how amazing she is. Then I turn back to the mess we’ve made, tidying up with a grin that I can’t quite shake.
As Marlene finishes jotting down her number, Stormy thanks her with that soft, radiant smile that still knocks the breath out of me. I wait until they wrap up, then cross the room and slide an arm around her waist, pulling her close.
“You were amazing,” I murmur, pressing a kiss to her temple. She leans into me, her body warm against mine, and I feel her exhale, like she’s finally letting herself believe it.
Marlene heads for the door, her purse swinging at her side. But just before she steps out, she pauses and turns.
“Oh, Ford,” she says, brows lifting. “You know John’s son, Will? I think you went to school together?”
My body goes still. Stormy stiffens.
“Well,” Marlene continues, oblivious, “I guess he’s leaving town. Heard he’s moving in with his mom across state. Finally got tired of this place, I suppose.”
Stormy’s hand tightens around mine. I feel the tension ripple through her. My jaw clenches, but I keep my arm firm around her.
