Chapter Four

I carried the bouquet to my shop, grabbed the vase holding the tropical blooms Cicek had given me the week before, and carried both into the back room to switch out the old for the new. No matter how often I protested that he did not need to offer me anything in return for the food I brought him, he always had a reason. Oh, these were about to wilt, or those had been ordered and paid for and not picked up. Perhaps a vendor had given him some extras for no particular reason. And though all those things might be true, I believed he felt like he needed to give me something in return for what I brought to him.

A small part of me wanted to hope he just wanted to give me something, but his reserved demeanor did not suggest an interest in me beyond that of a friendly neighbor. It would be easier to ignore him if he didn't smell so amazing, a floral/herbal note unlike anything in his shop or any garden I'd ever visited. When he first arrived, I'd thought it was something in there, but on a couple of occasions when I'd watched the till for him for a little bit, I'd noticed the strangest thing. When Cicek left the premises, so did the scent. It was 100 percent him, and the most enticing thing I'd ever had the pleasure to breathe in.

Although I protested that he did not need to give me the flowers, I really liked them, and this was a particularly lovely bunch of daisies and roses, a happy bouquet. I dumped out the old arrangement in the waste basket and rinsed out the vase. I trimmed the stems and settled the new flowers in fresh water then carried it to the front counter.

I set to work putting the boards together for Camila who was due back before long. Because of the nature of her event, charcuterie's informality did not seem completely appropriate, but I had some very pretty nearly black boards and laid out the meats and cheeses and everything else in more formal fashion. I was very pleased with the results and hoped my customer and her wife would be as well.

The bell above the door rang, and I glanced up from setting the small bowl of almonds in place. "Oh, Camila, just in time. I only need to wrap these up, but would you like a peek first?"

"Yes, please." She approached the counter and stopped in front of the vase. "How pretty." She buried her nose in a lush bloom. "Oh, and the roses smell so nice. A lot of times when I've bought them, they have no smell at all."

"These are from Bloom, next door. The place I told you about?"

She clapped a hand over her mouth. "I was going to stop by there, wasn't I?"

I showed her the boards and asked if there was anything else she'd like to add, but her squee told me I'd hit the right notes for her event. "All right. Let me wrap these. I just need a couple of minutes."

She reached up and stroked one of the rose petals. "I think while you do that, I'll pop next door and get some flowers. If that's all right?"

"More than."

Camila left, and I carried the boards over to the mounted industrial roll of wrap and pulled out a long swath. It would not only keep everything from drying out but keep it in place until Camila served it all to her mate's coworkers. And her boss. It really did feel like a sitcom from the 1960s. If the wife failed in her cocktail party planning, her spouse might lose their job!

Hopefully that would not be the case.

I set the wrapped boards in the white cardboard boxes.

"I'm back." She beamed. "He's putting together something for me, so as soon as I get these loaded in the car, I'll head back and grab it. Would you believe I'm starting to get excited? And I have you to thank."

"I hope you'll tell your friends and recommend the shop to them."

"Absolutely." She took the boxes and headed for the door. "I'll be posting on social media and tag the shop."

She struck me as the type who would have a strong influence there, and while I had a steady stream of business, I could always use more.

After Camila left, my dessert case caught my eye. Maybe my neighbor would like a little dessert. He had a sweet tooth for sure, and I had some things he'd enjoyed in the past. What could it hurt to just take them over?

Feed our mate.

My bear was insistent it was just that simple. Feed him and he'd be ours. I wish I was as sure.