Page 19

Petals and Stems is small, a corner building with big windows full of flowers in every color imaginable. The sign above the door is hand-painted, and there's a little bell that chimes when you walk in.

"This is it," I say.

"It's cute."

I push open the door, and the smell of flowers hits me immediately: sweet, fresh and a little overwhelming. The shop is bigger inside than it looks from the outside, with rows of buckets full of roses and lilies and a dozen other types I can't name.

There are two women inside.

The first is Margaret, gray hair pulled back in a bun, wearing a floral apron, working on an arrangement behind the counter.

The second is June.

She's standing near the back, wearing jeans and a soft blue cardigan, her dark blonde hair in a low bun. When she sees me, her face lights up.

Then her eyes drop to Bree, and the smile turns wicked.

"Oh my God," June says, abandoning whatever she was doing and walking straight toward us. "Angel. Is that your cut?"

Fuck.

"June," I say evenly.

"It is your cut." She's grinning now, full-on delighted. "Margaret, come look at this."

Margaret glances up from her arrangement, and when she sees Bree wearing my prospect patch, her eyebrows shoot up. "Well now. Isn't that interesting."

"I know, right?" June crosses her arms and leans against the counter, looking between me and Bree like this is the best entertainment she's had all week. "How long have you been prospecting, Angel? Six weeks?"

"About that."

"And you've already given your cut to a girl." She shakes her head, still grinning. "Diesel is going to lose his mind when I tell him."

"June…"

"What's your name, honey?" June asks, turning to Bree with genuine warmth despite the teasing.

Bree steps forward, and I see her straighten her shoulders despite the nerves in her eyes. "I'm Bree. It's nice to meet you."

"June Brannigan," June says, shaking her hand. "And that's Margaret Collins. She owns this place."

Margaret walks over, studying Bree with the kind of assessment only a woman who's run a business for three decades can pull off. "You must be something special if Angel's already claiming you."

Bree's cheeks turn pink. "I… He just loaned it to me because I was cold."

June and Margaret exchange a look that clearly says *sure he did*.

"Uh-huh," June says. "And I'm sure that's the only reason he walked you in here personally instead of just telling you where the shop was."

I clear my throat. "Bree's looking for work. Thought you might need help."

"Oh, we definitely need help," Margaret says, but she's still looking at Bree with amusement. "The question is whether she can handle working here while Angel stands outside looking through the window like a lost puppy."

"I won’t." I start.

"You absolutely will," June says, cutting me off. "I've seen the way the other brothers look at their women. You've got the same face right now."

Bree is trying very hard not to smile, I can tell. She's biting her bottom lip and staring at the floor like that'll somehow hide it.