Dean had never been afraid to flirt with me in front of Isaac. It was part of the reason I never believed he was serious. If it didn’t bother my brother in the slightest, could it really count as flirting? Tonight though, Dean did not flirt. Instead, the three of us defaulted to what we usually did while talking about my business. We argued.
Flowers United could sue me for breach of contract if there was some aspect of the business I ‘knowingly’ did not disclose. But we also didn’t want to give them an iota more than they needed. And none of us could agree on what that looked like.
Both Isaac and Dean had changed out of their work clothes. Dean was in faded jeans and a dark gray tee that hugged his biceps. He’d shaved, leaving his face baby smooth. The audacity of the man to look better dressed down than dressed up. It also didn’t help that no matter how strongly he’d been making his point, he always stopped when Piper clamored for his attention.
She’d been running into the kitchen off and on all night, knighting all of us with a plastic sword she found. Even though it was the fourth time he’d been dubbed Sir Dean Kinney of the House of Princess Piper, he once again took it seriously, holding still so she could tap his shoulders one at a time and place a leimade from straws and plastic flowers around his neck. He was all set for a Hawaiian vacation and a trip back to medieval England.
He looked at me after she left, and I squeezed my fists together, willing my face not to show any part of what I was feeling. I couldn’t explain it, but there was absolutely nothing hotter than a guy in a fake lei silently asking for my forgiveness. He had it. I just didn’t know how to say it.
Sometimes I wished trust was this button I could lift the glass and push. But it wasn’t just about trusting Dean’s intentions. It was about trusting myself. I didn’t want to hurt him. I didn’t want to stretch the limits of his patience until he wanted nothing more than to be free of me. I didn’t want to see him leave. It was easier if I never gave him that opportunity in the first place.
In other words, I was broken. And he was not.
Piper ran back into the kitchen and climbed into my lap. I hugged her close, burying my face in her hair and breathing in the scent of her pineapple punch shampoo. She was what grounded me. Always. Whatever else I was or was not, I’d always be Piper’s mom. “Are you making Carmen crazy?” I asked.
Poor Carmen had to listen to us argueandtry to keep a seven-year-old busy. There was something about bedtime that turned Piper into a Black Friday shopper. She had places to go and things to do, and she couldn’t sit still to save her life.
“No, Mommy. Carmen and I are about to watch a movie and braid each other’s hair. I get to braid hers first. But I wanted to say goodnight in case I fall asleep.”
“Good idea. Goodnight, sweetheart.”
“Goodnight. I still want songs on the way home.”
“For sure.”
“Even if I’m asleep. You’ll still sing them?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.” She launched herself off my lap and ran back into the living room.
I could feel Dean’s eyes on me, but I didn’t dare look up at him. I focused on the computer screen instead. Isaac had our year-over-year earnings up. We were only on year five, so there wasn’t a ton of data, but this last year had been my best so far.
It took us another half an hour, but we came up with a plan of what to send, and together we crafted a portfolio to send to Flowers United. For better or worse, we’d see what happened.
Piper was sleepy but not asleep when we left. We sang five songs on the way home, and then she went straight to bed without any fuss. She even brushed her teeth. I’d call that a win.
I was tired too, but I craved a little downtime. Once on the couch, I sketched for a while. How could this feel like downtime when the floral business did not? And what if I came to dread this like I did my business?
There had to be something wrong with me—pre-worrying and second-guessing everything. But the longer I sketched, the more my body relaxed, and then my mind followed. I didn’t have to give it permission. It just… let go of the day.
For making illustrations, I usually started with graphite pencil on paper with lots of erasing and trial and error before moving to the digital draft. Right now, I was working on ideas for the last few panels of Gummy Bear Gamble, the next book in Jessica’s series. Fudgy Fiascos was already finished and about to go on preorder. I set my sketchbook aside when my phone buzzed with a call from Isaac.
“Hey.”
“Hey, sis. So, let me preface this with…um… just don’t shoot the messenger.”
I groaned. “That’s a terrible way to start a conversation.”
“I know, but I need you to promise me anyway.”
“No shots have been fired. Yet.”
“Fair enough. I asked Dean if you were mad at him, you know, more than usual, and he said you had a lot on your mind. Including Jessica’s wedding coming up.”
“Mm-hmm.” Not wanting to spill any beans Dean hadn’t already spilled, I waited for Isaac to reach his point. I would nottry to guess. Because they were best friends, I was used to Isaac knowing all of Dean’s business, and vice versa, but I really hoped Dean didn’t regularly share things like how he’d asked me to rate his hotness on a scale of one-to-ten.
“Dean said you were worried about taking the time off. And it’s not exactly ideal for him to take a whole week off work either, so I suggested maybe you both should go like half the week. And I could look in on Beautiful Blooms while you’re gone. Dean and I will schedule things light for us at our office, so it wouldn’t be a problem. I don’t want you to miss your friend’s wedding.”
