I pressed my mouth to his temple and didn't argue.
“So what happens now?” he asked.
“Now we sleep.”
“That's not what I meant.” He propped his chin on my chest, looked up at me. His eyes were soft in the dim light, that particular hazel that shifted green when he was happy. “The arrangement was supposed to end today.”
“What arrangement?”
He blinked. “The… you know. The deal. The fake dating thing.”
“Don't know what you're talking about.” I kept my face straight. “The only arrangement I know about is the one I made you this afternoon.”
His mouth twitched. “Is that so.”
“That's so.”
“And here I thought we had a whole contract. Terms and conditions. Three weeks, through Valentine's Day.”
“Doesn't ring a bell.” I traced my thumb along his cheekbone. “Stay. Not just tonight. Stay for real.”
His smile started slow and spread until his whole face changed. “I was planning to.”
“Good.”
“Good.” He settled back against my chest, pressing a kiss over my heart. “Brandy's going to be insufferable, you know. She's been telling me for weeks this was more than an arrangement.” He paused. “Or whatever we're not calling it.”
“She was right.”
“She usually is. That's the problem.”
I pulled him closer. The quiet wrapped around us, not empty anymore, not lonely. Just peaceful.
We'd opened the door so the girls could come sleep in their beds. Jamie's breathing slowed, evening out into sleep. I lay awake a few minutes longer, listening to him breathe, feeling the weight of him against my side. The fear that had kept me silent for weeks felt distant now. Small. Manageable.
He'd said he loved me. He'd said he wanted to stay.
I'd spent years convinced that everyone left. That wanting something meant losing it. That the safest thing was to never want at all.
But Jamie kept showing up. Every morning with coffee, every evening at my door. He kept showing up, and I'd finally stopped being afraid to let him in.
Some people are built for leaving and some are built for staying.
My grandmother had known which one she was. She'd spent her whole life in the same shop, the same town, the same life. Not because she was trapped, but because she'd found where she belonged.
I pulled Jamie closer, felt him sigh against my chest. Somewhere down the street, the Copper Kettle was closing up. Somewhere in the park, couples were walking hand in hand, holding bouquets from my shop, celebrating a day designed for love.
And here, in my apartment above Hutchinson Florals, I had everything I'd been too afraid to want.
I was starting to understand what my grandmother meant.
Chapter Ten
Jamie
The shop was quiet in the early morning, the post-Valentine's chaos cleared away, the coolers humming their steady rhythm. Holden stood by the back table in a gray henley, sleeves pushed up, checking the boxes of wedding flowers one final time. The bridal bouquet sat in its own container, white peonies and garden roses in the palest blush, trailing eucalyptus that he'd wired to cascade just so. The bridesmaids' arrangements in their labeled boxes. The centerpieces I'd watched him build yesterday, each one identical but somehow still handmade, still carrying the particular care of his attention.
The dogs spotted me first. Marceline abandoned her post by the door and trotted over, whole body wiggling. Bubblegum followed at her usual measured pace.
