But when he stepped through the front door, there was no one to be found. Yaya’s kettle wasn’t on, but her fuzzy pink slippers were gone from beside the floral print couch. A book was left open on the oak side table, its page marked by a pressed flower bookmark, and stained by a small drop of tea. He was about to call out to her when voices drifted toward him from down the hall.
He crept toward Yaya’s bedroom, where his father’s low baritone was strangely quieter. Softer. “What do you want me to do, Ma?”
“You and Kelly have to get the beach house situation sorted out, Aidan.” Yaya sounded tired. Her gentle words stretched into a long yawn. “Otherwise the property just goes to the town.”
They must have been discussing her will. It was the only explanation.
Aidan sighed. Heavily. Like the weight of the world was on his shoulders. “Ready then?”
Ready for what?
Brock peered into her bedroom, careful to keep himself out of view.
“Okay.” Yaya snuggled down into her bed, and his father laid a lavender quilt with tiny little white roses across her. “I’m ready.”
Aidan smoothed back a few strands of her graying hair, then settled onto the edge of the bed, opening a book with a frayed spine and yellowed pages. The pictures had long since faded, going from gloriously bright colors to muted pastels over the years. “This is the story of the dragon and the golden egg. Once upon a time…”
Brock jerked back and silently swore to himself.
His father was reading Yaya a book. But not just any story. It was Brock’s favorite fairy tale from when he was a little boy. Hedidn’t realize his father could be so caring. He didn’t know the man who never raised him was actually capable of love.
His chest was heavy. His heart ached. Suddenly feeling like the odd man out, Brock left his grandmother’s house as quietly as he had come in, refusing to look back. Without even thinking about it, he drove straight to Mystic Florals. To the one person he was sure could help him sort through his tumultuous emotions. They threatened to break him from the inside out.
Brock grabbed Juliette’s pile of clothing from the passenger seat of his truck and strode into the flower shop.
Vivianne caught his eye and waved. She was Adrienne’s identical twin, the only difference was Adrienne had freckles and Viv did not. She wore too much makeup for his liking, but she wore it well, and he remembered Juliette saying it took a lot of time, so he certainly couldn’t fault her there. Her heels were so high, he wasn’t even sure she could walk properly. But Viv proved him wrong, as she often did, when she came over to greet him.
She flashed a wide smile. “Hey, Brockton, long time no see.”
He was sure he had seen her just the other day, but he shrugged it off and nodded toward the loft. “Is Jules upstairs?”
“I think she’s around here somewhere, but I haven’t seen her in a while.” Vivianne’s gaze dropped to the bundle of clothing in his arms, and one pointed brow lifted. “Do those belong to Juliette?”
“Yeah.” He held them out to her.
Vivianne’s smile was tainted with mischief.
“She got caught in the rain,” Brock said quickly.
“Uh-huh.”
“And she was covered in mud,” he added in a poor attempt to deter her obvious suspicions.
“Oh right.” Her smile widened even more. “She couldn’t get herself cleaned up here?”
“She was locked out.”
“My, my.” Skepticism lined the pretty features of her face. “That’s quite the series of unfortunate events.”
Brock laughed off her insinuations. “See you around, Viv.”
She smirked. “Sure.”
Brock walked out of the flower shop, grateful to have avoided another run-in with Gigi Laurent, but disappointed not to have seen Juliette, when he heard his name being called. He froze in the parking lot, wishing he had just ignored the voice and left. Instead, he turned around and saw Evelyn, the barista from Latte & Bean, rushing toward him. Her jet-black hair blew behind her in the cold breeze, and her bronze cheeks were flushed to a shade of deep berry from the wind.
“Brock.” She was breathless, like she’d run the length of Shoreline Drive just to catch up with him. She linked one gloved hand with his own while the other clutched his forearm like a lifeline. “I was hoping I’d catch up with you today. I was wondering when I was going to see you again.”
He was literally at the coffee shop with Juliette a few days ago.
