Zoe turned—and forgot how to breathe.
Jackson Hawthorne stepped through the doorway, carrying a large box like it weighed nothing. Rain beaded in his dark hair, glinting under the shop lights. His gray Henley clung to his chest, the fabric darkened by mist.
Heat crept up Zoe’s neck. She swore she saw Edith glance at her knowingly.
Zoe told herself to look away, to stop staring, but it was useless. Jackson had been her best friend since forever, and her daily test in emotional restraint.
She’d been drawn to him for as long as she could remember. He was like an underwater current that tugged at her soul, pulling her closer, deeper until there was only him. A woman could drown at the sight of that man.
Jackson was broad-shouldered, all muscle and grit, with a quiet strength that made everyone else seem smaller somehow. But it wasn’t just his body, though, good grief, that could have been carved from stone.
It was the depth he carried. He always had, but now there was the guarded set of his jaw. The storm brewing behind those eyes. War had changed him, leaving scars she couldn’t see but always felt. His twin, Liam, was charming and easygoing, but Jackson…Jackson was raw, untamed.
And oblivious.
He didn’t seem to notice the way Zoe’s heart hammered when he stepped too close. Or the way she stumbled over her words while her mind fought not to run away with fantasies.
“Excuse me for one minute,” Zoe said to the mayor and Edith, then turned to Jackson. “You are literally my hero right now,” she whispered, dragging him into the workroom.
He arched a brow. “It’s just a box, Zo. You’re a little dramatic.”
“Dramatic?” she shot back. “Try explaining to the mayor and Edith that you lost their wedding flowers and see how calm you feel.”
He set the box down, mouth twitching—the closest he ever came to a smile. “Fair point. Where do you want it?”
“The countertop right there is great.” She gestured. “Stay, I’ll be right back.”
“Giving orders now, are we?” His eyes glinted as he folded his arms. “Fine. But are you any good at following them?”
Her breath caught. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
He chuckled. “Maybe I would.”
Zoe shook her head. It was just like Jackson to be a flirt with her. If only he knew…
She turned on her heel and headed back out front to the mayor and Edith. “I have a few extra flowers that were just delivered. I’d love to show them to you. Could you give me an hour?”
Mayor Bloomfield twirled his hat. “Hmm. That’s just enough time for a slice of pie.”
Edith’s eyes brightened. “From the Pumpkin Pie Bakery?”
“Where else?” He grinned. “Their maple-pecan crumble has been calling my name since breakfast.”
“Don’t have to twist my arm.” Edith looped her arm through his. “We’ll go grab a table by the window.”
“Perfect.” Zoe exhaled. “Tell Emily I said hi—and if she’s got any cherry pie left, save me a slice?”
The mayor winked. “Consider it done.”
The bell chimed as they left, their laughter drifting back with the scent of rain, leaving Zoe alone with her heartbeat and the ticking clock.
“I can’t believe these came to you,” Zoe said, walking back to Jackson. “I think they just switched orders.”
She sighed. Cuttings, ribbon, and petals were strewn over every surface. Her creative haven had officially become a hot mess express.
Jackson eyed the space. “Some people would call this a disaster zone.”
“It’s creative chaos,” she insisted. “Organized genius at work.”
