Chapter Four

SAMI

I glanced up as I stood in front of the espresso machine when the door of the Cuddle Cup opened. It was still early, not quite 6:30 am, and the café was relatively quiet before the morning rush that usually began around 7 am.

A man’s large frame loomed in the open doorway, a huge bouquet of summer flowers obscuring his face. The arrangement was show-stopping— consisting of peach roses and carnations, white chrysanthemums, dusty miller, and huckleberry.

“Wow,” said a man from a nearby table, pausing his typing on the laptop in front of him and pushing his thick glasses up his nose with his index finger.

“Ow!” I yelped, having been so distracted I’d forgotten to stop pressing the button on the machine. Boiling coffee spilled over the edges of the paper cup, and I quickly set it onto the counter, reflexively licking my burned finger.

The bearded delivery man peered out from behind the flowers as he entered the café.

“Sorry, Sami,” he said with an apologetic smile. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

Turning on the tap at the sink, I ran my finger under the stream of cool water and instantly felt relief.

“No worries, Mr. Miller,” I said, recognizing Gus Miller from Pamela’s Petals, the floral shop he owned with his wife. “That’s a beautiful bouquet.”

“Absolutely gorgeous,” the woman standing at the counter agreed. Her gray hair was pulled back into a tight bun, and she clutched a green knitted bag to her side that was nearly as big as she was.

“Thank you,” said the florist, traversing the small eating area to join us. “And Sami, I appreciate your good Southern manners, but it’s high time that you call me by my first name. Even though Pamela and I have known you ever since you were just a wee thing, you’re a grown woman now. We still miss your grandmother, by the way, but know she’s watching over you from up there behind the pearly gates.”

“That’s very kind of you to say,” I replied. “And I will try to remember.”

“Pamela will be pleased to hear this bouquet is such a hit,” Gus continued. “Our 13-year-old grandniece on her side, Mary Kate, helped design this arrangement.’” He gazed at it, smiling fondly.

“Aw, how nice that you have family in the area,” remarked my customer with a sigh as I reached for another cup to restart her order. “My kids moved away years ago, and now I only get to see my grandchildren a few times year.”

“Sorry to hear that, Ma’am,” Gus replied. “Living near family is indeed a rare blessing these days.”

“Who are the flowers for?” I asked, eyeing Monica, the college student who worked at the cafe part-time as one of our baristas, who stood at the other end of the coffee bar taking orders. The pretty young redhead must have plenty of admirers.

“See for yourself,” Gus said, placing the tall crystal vase with the arrangement on the countertop and pointing to the name written in cursive on the tiny envelope tucked in between the stems.

Sami.

My heart did a little flip-flop, and I felt my cheeks flush with heat.

I passed the tall Cappuccino to my customer with a shaking hand.

“I can ring you out over here,” Monica said, beckoning to her with a glance toward me.

“Thank you,” I mouthed as the woman secured a plastic lid over her cup and smiled.

“Enjoy your flowers, dear,” she said. “Someone loves you.”

“I’m afraid I’ve got to run, Sami,” said Gus, retreating to the door with a wave. “We’re expecting a big delivery of tulips at the shop.”

“No problem,” I replied. “Say hi to Mrs. Miller…I mean Pamela…for me.”

“Will do, hon,” The florist said as he pushed the door open and walked outside.

I turned to the bouquet and removed the tiny card from its holder.

Lifting the flap, I slid the interior slip of paper out and read the neat handwriting:

To Sami. Missed you last night. I remember your fondness for the color peach.

Enjoy, Cord

A phone number was printed at the bottom.

I stared at the words, trying to sort the tumble of emotions washing over me.

“Oh. My. God.”

Leann entered the café from the kitchen, a tray of lemon poppyseed muffins in her hands. She set them on top of the display case and came over to me with her hands on her hips.

“Don’t tell me. They’re from Cord.”

I nodded.

She stomped her foot. “How dare he! After I told him to stay away from you!”

“You did?” I asked, surprised.

“You bet I did,” Leann replied. “You’re my cousin, and I’m going to do everything I can to make sure that man doesn’t break your heart again.”

I shook my head. “Don’t worry about me, Leann. I can handle Cord. And trust me, after what he did, I’ve got so many walls around my heart that it’s immune to Cord Romero’s charms.”

“Is that right?” A deep baritone asked from the café’s entrance.

Cord.

My hands flew to my cheeks.

“Do you like the flowers?” he grinned, pointing to the bouquet. “I asked them to put every single peach-colored flower they had in stock into the arrangement.”

He was even more handsome than when he left after graduation. Not that I’d had any doubt he would be. His once lanky form had filled out in the years he’d been gone, adding pounds of lean muscle to his legs and torso. His face was more chiseled, and his mocha-brown eyes contained a depth that wasn’t there before. It was clear that Cord Romero wasn’t a boy anymore – he was a full-fledged man. And the feelings I’d had for him ever since he picked up the math book I dropped while we were walking down the busy 7th grade hallway came rushing back. As we spent more and more time together during the rest of middle school and high school, I’d fallen completely in love with him. After he left town, I’d been too busy raising Camden and working at the café to even think of dating again, even though both Leann and our friend Heather had tried to set me up a number of times with single men they knew, and a couple of them had even asked me out themselves.

Now, gazing at the only man I’d ever loved and never thought I’d see again, who’d broken my heart beyond repair when he left me pregnant with his child to pursue his dream of fame and fortune, a tide of rage rose in the center of my chest, and I clenched my fists to keep from screaming.

“The Prodigal Son returns,” I spat through gritted teeth.

Cord turned his palms upward. “I thought it was time for a visit. What can I say?”

“Nothing, that’s what,” I said, untying my apron as I walked around from the coffee bar and headed towards the supply room that doubled as our break area. “I’m going on break.”

Leann nodded, moving around me to take my position behind the counter. “Good idea,” she said. “Take your time.”

Cord quickly strode forward and stepped front of me, barring my path.

“Wait,” he said. “Please. I want to talk to you. Can we go somewhere? Outside? Go sit in the park, or maybe down by the lake like we used to?”

I sucked in my breath, hot tears pricking the backs of my eyes.

“No,” I said, my voice cracking. “Those days are over. I want nothing to do with you, Cord. Go back where you came from. I never want to lay eyes on you again.”

He took a step backward, looking like he’d just gotten punched in the gut.

“You can’t be serious!” he exclaimed. “I’m here now, why won’t you talk to me? Just give me a few minutes! I’m sure we can talk things out.”

Tears began to roll down my cheeks and I flung the back of my hand across them, whirling around. Customers couldn’t see me like this. I had to get out of here, now. I hurried towards the front entrance with my heart in my throat, but Cord grabbed my elbow.

“Sami!” he pleaded.

“Take your hands off her!” Leann yelled, her smartphone in her hand. “I’m calling the police!”

“Are you freaking serious?” Cord asked, his face turning red with fury. “I always thought you were a little unstable, Leann, but now you’re really off your rocker. Remember I’m friends with the chief of police here, Jake Walker, as well as the mayor! I just want to talk to Sami, that’s all!”

“Yeah, well, she’s already said she doesn’t want to talk to you, hasn’t she?” Leann retorted, lifting the phone to her ear. “And as for who your friends are, we’ll see about that, won’t we? Yes, I’m calling to report an emergency,” she said loudly into the speaker.

“Let me go,” I whispered to Cord, “please.” Tears were now streaming down my face.

He met my gaze and his defensiveness dropped at once like a popped balloon.

“All right,” he said softly, releasing my arm. “As you wish.”

The phrase from the cult classic movie The Princess Bride that we’d watched together more times than I could remember pierced by heart like an arrow.

Turning, I ran from the café and darted into an alley and behind a dumpster, where I finally collapsed onto my hands and knees, my body racked with all the sobs it had stored up since the day I learned he was gone.