Nicholas coughs. “Just us!” he says cheerily. “And Clay here. Dropping off some vases, picking up some flowers. You know how it goes. And I was hoping to say hi to your mom. Is she around today?”
Zoeey gestures toward the greenhouses and fields, but glances again at Kavya. “You’re welcome to wander around and call her name. Your order is right up front.” She turns her eyes back to Nicholas. “Want me to grab it for you?”
Nicholas waves his hand. “No worries. Enjoy your coffee.”
“Ranunculus,” Kavya says abruptly. “You said I could see your crop some time?”
Zooey’s eyebrows pop up. “Okay. Yes!” She runs a hand through her hair. “Let’s take a stroll to the ranunculus together.”
Kavya looks at Nicholas, an eyebrow arched, and Nicholas nods.
“I’ll catch up,” she says, and takes off with Zooey and the dog.
I scrunch my brow. “Why do I feel like I just missed something?”
Nicholas laughs. “Don’t underestimate the allure of some beautiful ranunculus.” He gestures down the path. “Follow me. We’ll find Aurora. This is her farm.”
“You know her well?”
“Yeah, for years.” He guides me naturally through the space, between flowering trees and rows of tiny plants. “I told you about the flower shop that used to be in the neighborhood when I was growing up. When I opened my shop, I was lucky enough to inherit a lot of their clients and partners. Starlight has been with me since the start.”
I nod. “Gotta appreciate a good working relationship like that.”
“It’s pretty special,” Nicholas agrees. “I get to work with a lot of amazing small businesses. The best people are drawn to flowers.”
He shoots me a smile. We come to a greenhouse, and Nicholas peeks inside. “Aurora?”
When there’s no answer, he shrugs and gestures further into the farm.
“Carpentry is similar,” I tell him. “All about knowing the right business to work with. In Missouri, whatever you need, I know where to go. Whether you’re mixing concrete, replacing a roof, sourcing good lumber. That’s part of why I know I’ll be able to succeed when I move back. But here, I wouldn’t know where to get shit, except I can tell that Sue is the big deal in the gayborhood.”
“That she is.”
“I’ve seen you working,” I tell him. “Cutting flowers. Arranging them. All the paper and ribbons and frilly parts. It’s skilled labor.”
“It’s precision,” he says. “Fussing over details and keeping the big picture in mind.”
“And managing supplies, workload, clients. That shit’s familiar.”
Birds swoop through the sky, and Nicholas turns his face to the sun, closing his eyes briefly as he smiles and takes it in.
Fuck, he is a beautiful man. I don’t usually think of men as beautiful, but I’m fascinated by his cheekbones, the light in his eyes, and the way his hair falls over his forehead.
Funny that he called me gorgeous. He’s the gorgeous one. Drop dead.
When he turns his gaze back to me, I swallow, embarrassed that he caught me looking.
“I love the way flowers feel,” Nicholas says. “Their scent, their weight in my hands. How they’re soft and fragile and strong at the same time. Sharp. That tactile part of the work, I love it.”
“I feel that way about wood. Cutting into a solid piece of lumber, breathing in the scent of the wood. It feels good in my body.”
We share a quick glance. Heat rolls through me, and Nicholas turns down a side path.
“Aurora!” he yells out.
As we walk along a row of pink flowers, Nicholas holds his wrist behind his back, swaying his hips slightly.
I fall into pace beside him, trudging along.
