I didn’t know what was worse—not wanting to let go or knowing I shouldn’t be touching her, however briefly, in the first place. She was technically still my best friend’s fiancée. However, technically, reasonably, rationally, literally, figuratively…whichever way you cut it, Daisy Turner was never mine.
I released her fingers and rubbed my own on the fabric of my suit pants. At this rate, by the end of the day, I was certain that amputation would be the only way to forget the soft feel of Daisy’s fingers on mine.
“Just give me a minute,” I said, walking quickly to the back of the van before she could insist on carrying some of the boxes for me.Like hell I’d agree to letting her do that.
I wrenched open the back of the van, the packages organized in order of delivery in case someone had to fill in who wasn’t a regular driver—a lifesaver right now.Three massive boxes, the largest for our custom bouquets, were marked forShelton.I stretched for the first and immediately heard the firecracker pop of a seam splitting open.
Shit.
I yanked my arms out of my suit jacket, completely forgetting I was informal wear.The jacket sailed over the stacks of boxes and landed deep in the van while I made fast work of removing my tie, and then unbuttoning my collar and rolling up my sleeves. My shirt still protested when I attempted to pick up the large, heavy box again.On second thought, maybe I should’ve comped the entire order.There was a decent chance I was goingto rip through or sweat through this shirt and be delivering bouquets bare-chested before the day was through. While there might be a market for that kind of flower delivery service, it wasn’t the market I was catering to.
“Mistakes don’t break you, Max. They give you room to build.”
My grandmother had a way with words, though Gigi was usually more known for her uncanny fortune-telling rather than her good advice. Herpremonition preserves,as they were known to our family, were infamous for revealing a clue to a future love and delivered by way of a scribbled label on a Stonebar Farms jam jar.
At least, that was what had happened for all four of my cousins—Lou, her twin sister, Frankie, and their two older brothers, Jamie and Kit.
I was going to be the one to break Gigi’s matchmaking streak. She’d given me a premonition jar years ago, and I knew with absolute certainty it wasn’t going to lead to love. How? Because it had already led me to heartbreak.
Gravel skidded under my feet, my train of thought derailing when I reached the side of the van.Where was Daisy?I spun in both directions, searching. I was halfway to calling her name when I spotted her.
Daisy stood at the home’s front door, speaking to a woman who was, based on her attire, the owner of the home.
I charged toward them, my pulse thudding wildly. If this woman was rude to Daisy—if she gave her a hard time because of my employee’s fuck up—forget a discount. I’d comp this order and then never service this woman again.
I hardly felt the cumbersome weight of the box in my arms as I ate up the distance separating me from them.
“Oh, my. I can’t believe you came all the way out here. This is—” The woman stopped when she saw me approach, her heavily mascaraed lashes widening.
I could only spare her a glance before all of my attention locked on Daisy. Did she look distressed? Flushed? Upset? After everything this morning, if someone so much as looked at her wrong?—
“Max, this is Mrs. Shelton. Mrs. Shelton, this is Max Hamilton, the CEO of MaineStems,” Daisy murmured, flashing an apologetic smile at me for not waiting.
“Mr. Hamilton.”
I looked back at the middle-aged woman, who was manicured as nicely as her lawn. “Mrs. Shelton, I want to personally apologize for the delay this morning. I take full responsibility for the mishap, and I greatly appreciate your patience.”
Her gaze raked me up and down.
Thankfully, I’d been friends with Todd long enough to have grown calloused to the scrutiny of the kind of people who ran in his family’s circles. Todd wasn’t like that. He was a lot of things—a lot of unfortunate things—but he wasn’t a snob. Maybe it was because we were friends, or maybe it was just a miracle, but somehow he managed to be cocooned in an elitist world but not molt into that persona.
“Well, I can’t say I’m not severely displeased by the delay. However, given that you’ve postponed your own nuptials to personally ensure my flowers still arrived in time for my dinner party, I’m inclined to look past it.”
Postponed…my own…
“Please, you can place them in here.” Her heels clicked off into the distance as I turned and stared at Daisy.
Her eyes weren’t as wide as mine.
She let her think…
“Daze,” I hissed under my breath.
“It doesn’t matter right now, Max. Just go along with it,” she muttered back and strode inside.
Go along with pretending this was our wedding day.
Goddammit.
