Clearly, she didn’t.
I hated leaving them for her, but we’d had so many wedding activities yesterday, and I wanted the flowers to be as fresh as possible. I should have skipped that stupid bonfire and done them myself. Sighing, I spin on my heel toward the cooler for more roses. This is why I got up early. Pulling my phone from my apron pocket, I shoot off a text to Lu.
Me: Morning! Just curious what happened with those bouquets. You never texted you had issues with them, but I found them unfinished. In the future, don’t leave without finishing. It worked out this time because I came early, but that was really not cool.
I press send before I lose my nerve. When I look up, Kaci’s pinching her lips together, eyes wide. “Sooo ... I heard everything last night,” she says with a prying tone. “The whole house did. You kissed him.”
Ice floods my veins, and I hiss, “I didn’t kiss him. That was a him-kissing-me situation.”
“Okay, if that’s how you want to explain it.” She pretends to examine her manicure.
“It was clearly a mistake.” My defensive tone takes over. “I was overly emotional with all the wedding planning and seeing you and Jackson so happy." I hold my breath, unwilling to say another word. I’d said enough. He’s not worth another word.
“He said he loves you.” She doesn’t look up as she adds, “his voice was literally cracking with emotion when he said that.”
“Too bad!” I snap. “If you’d paid closer attention, you’d have heard the part where I walked away.” I spin on my heel to head back to the cooler for more Fire and Ice roses. Apparently, I can’t trust anyone else to do anything right, and I mutter, “I have arrangements to finish and zero time to rehash the mistake that was last night.”
Just then, my phonebeeps. It’s a message from Lu.
LU: Sorry, I didn’t finish the bouquets because the last bunch of roses were slightly wilted. I knew you’d hate them and want them removed. I put in a last-minute order for the truck. They should arrive this morning. I didn’t know what color to sub, so I figured it was easier for you to pick what you wanted than to remove dead roses.
I read her text to Kaci, and her eyes almost bug out of head. “I’ll figure something out,” I say quickly, rattling off options beforeshe has time to panic.
We’ve been over this a million times. She chose her favorite flower lilacs, and the Fire and Ice roses were for Jackson. She’s talked about using them for her wedding since they got engaged. The fact that she’s marrying a hockey player only made her obsession with Fire and Ice roses seem unhinged. “What about those red dahlias? They have a little yellow in the center.”
“You can’t use dahlias, Koren. That’s like a hate crime."
The doorbell jingles again, startling us both. It’s hours before opening. No one should be here unless it’s the truck with our roses. I turn so fast I nearly drop the bouquet.
And there he is. Leaning in the doorway. My living, breathing mistake.
Ex-fiancé.
Jerk.
Jerk hole.
Jerk Hole Kisser.
My mind can’t stop making up names for him. Leave it to Elijah to make a stressful moment even worse.
“Elijah,” I pause, making sure I used his real name, not the ones in my head. “I don’t have time to deal with you today.” Tears prick my eyes. I whirl toward the cooler, hoping by some miracle there’s a hidden box of perfect roses that no one knew was back there. Fairy godmother roses.
Because that’s a real thing.
That I just made up.
But it should be a thing.
Elijah ignores Kaci standing there with her mouth hanging open and follows on my heels. “I waited all night for your car to leave your house. I knew you’d come here. We have to talk about last night before the wedding.”
“We already talked.” I yank open the cooler door, looking everywhere and doing everything possible to avoid looking at him. “Now is not the time. I found out the bouquets aren’t finished. I’m out of Fire and Ice roses, and I have to improvise fast.”
Unfazed, he steps inside the cooler, looking unfairly attractive in his casual shorts and hoodie. “Hmm, did you try Garrison’s Greenhouse? He always has roses. That’s where I used to get yours.” His voice dips, and I freeze.
“Don’t.” I flash my palm toward him.
“Don’t what? Help?”
