Chapter 15

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

NICHOLAS

While Blossom starts to fray at the edges, my arrangement with Clay looks more and more solid.

After two rounds of sweaty sex, I left his place satisfied and rejuvenated. We agreed on two to three hookups each week going forward, schedules depending.

The way he is, I really do trust him. Clay isn't trying to pretend to be anyone but himself. He's gruff but honest, and even though he's not chatty and quick to share, he has been opening himself up to me, which I appreciate.

Hooking up with Clay is the right move. It's like when I opened the flower shop in the first place. I choose to see the bright side in life, and sometimes, that means I recognize an opportunity and take a chance.

Emboldened, I double my resolve to face this Flower Hub situation head-on, too.

"It's time to go to the flower farms," I say cheerfully to Kavya, announcing this out of nowhere.

She puts her snippers down. "All of them?"

It's morning, and the shop isn't set to open for another hour. "It won't hurt to close the doors for a morning shift. We don't have any orders until later. And it will be fun! We both love the flower farms."

Kavya looks skeptical. "Why are you declaring a field trip out of nowhere?" she asks.

I run my fingers down today's work blazer, an old favorite in lilac purple. "The best way to protect my supplier relationships is to give them the quality time they deserve."

"Right. Because we need to protect ourselves against the flowers from corporate hell."

"We do," I tell her. "Don't worry. I recognize the threat. But I've built the business I wanted, and I'm going to stick to what works. That includes visiting our beloved suppliers and maintaining our personal touch."

Kavya drums her fingers on the work table. "We can drop off some of the old vases, pick up a few deliveries."

"At least as many fit in my limited car space."

"Sure, I'm in." She glances at me. "And we'll stop by Starlight Fields?" she asks. "I want to scope out the incoming stock."

"Definitely. You're an artist—you need to see your paints."

"Alright, fuck it. Let's go to the flower farms." She points to the front of the shop, where I see Clay outside the window. "Hey, what if we asked Clay to lend us his truck?"

"No. I couldn't impose like that."

Kavya shrugs. "He's fixing everything. Maybe he's really helpful. Like it's his thing."

"I don't know about that."

"I kind of like him. Nance keeps calling him a rapscallion. Sue seems like she likes him, though." Kavya looks at me. "How about you?"

"Me? Oh, I guess he's a pretty decent guy. It is nice to have all the repairs done."

And I catch myself salivating over the memory of his fingers in my ass. That's nice, too.

Kavya shrugs. "I guess we'll see if he screws us over in the end."

On that note, Clay walks inside. "Morning," he says.

"Morning," Kavya and I say in unison.

Clay nods gruffly, and I take him in. His scruff is growing heavier again. Today's outfit is cargo pants and a blue T-shirt, untucked. He shoves a hand into one pocket as he talks.

"Wanted to ask if the shop will be available tonight. I've got a list of things to get to."

"As a matter of fact, it's available all morning, too." I glance to Kavya. "We're going on a field trip to visit some of our suppliers at their local farms."

"Cool. Good day for it."

"Want to lend us your truck?" Kavya asks. "Nicholas's car is tiny."

"Kavya!" I say. "We can't just ask that."

Kavya doesn't betray any emotion on her face. "What? We're going to the country. We should have a truck." She looks at Clay. "You understand."

Clay huffs out a laugh. "No one else drives my truck. Can either of you even drive stick?"

"I'm going to pretend you didn't just ask that," Kavya says.

Clay holds both of his hands up. "Okay. Fine. But you're still not driving my vehicle." He considers us again. "I can drive you if you need a truck, though."

I blink, surprised. "I wouldn't want to interrupt your work."

"You're not," he says. "Just leave enough space in the back to fit a toilet. We'll stop at the resale store, and you can pick out a new shitter for the shop. I want to replace that old one and check out the pipework. I've got a little scrap to drop on the way, too."

I notice that this is actually Clay doing me two favors, depending on how you look at it, and I make a mental note to do something for him in return.

"Just throw in a couple of those cheese Danishes," he adds, "and we'll make it a deal."

Kavya snorts out a laugh, and I smile and stick out my hand.

"Sold. Let's load up the truck."

CLAY

Nicholas sits in the middle seat, chatting and laughing between me and Kavya.

He bumps into me as I bounce down a dirt road to the first farm, and I feel like all my senses are on high alert. It's so visceral to have him here.

Seeing him reminds me of everything we did together, everything we're going to do, but it's more than that. I never have anyone right next to me in the middle seat. Or the passenger seat, for that matter.

Still, I don't show anything on my face, my eyes like steel on the road.

Driving him today is like fixing his shelves all over again. I'm taking care of Nicholas, even though I'm not sure it's appropriate. I hope like hell he hasn't noticed.

We park at the first farm, an old white farmhouse surrounded by greenhouses and hoops of plastic. It's a warm morning, and only a few wispy clouds lazily pass in the sky as we step out of the car.

"It's a shame you won't be able to get a proper tour of the farms," Nicholas says. "You'll have to come back."

Kavya heaves a box from the back of the truck, which she places on a small bench. "This is the only one that's purely a flower farm," she says. "The other ones are farms that grow flowers."

"Right."

A woman in pajama pants, boots, and a T-shirt comes walking around a few shrubs. She's got a coffee mug in one hand, and in the other, she holds her dog's leash. The black-and-white mutt prances happily at her side.

"Zooey!" Kavya says, surprised.

"Oh gosh," Zooey says as she comes forward with the dog. Pausing, she points at the ground. "Buttercup, sit."

The dog sits.

Kavya holds her water bottle at a strange angle. "Hey. And hi, Buttercup," she adds.

Zooey looks down at herself. "I didn't expect to see anyone."

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.

"I just feel lucky to have my own shop," he says. "My parents lent me some money to supplement the business loan I took out with the bank, and Randy always gave me a fantastic deal on rent." He coughs lightly. "I'm not sure if you've noticed that yet."

I had, but it's not like I'm going to raise his rent when I'm about to sell the building anyway. I touched his asshole, for fuck's sake.

"It's fine," I say. "I'll respect his arrangement. And you're the one that made the business work. Give yourself that credit."

Nicholas nods. "It has taken a lot of sweat. And tight purse strings to pay the loans off. But I find you can come up with countless outfit combinations with only a small number of interchangeable blazers and T-shirts from the thrift store. And I happen to love noodles for dinner."

"Good that your folks could help you out, too."

"We've always been close. I go over for dinner once a week, and they stop by the shop sometimes. You'll meet them eventually, I'm sure. My mom, Luana, was a dental assistant. She just retired. Reymond, my dad, is a librarian here in Allentown. They're both active around the neighborhood, very civically minded, so most everyone knows them. It's nice."

Something twinges in me, glimpsing Nicholas's life beyond what I'll ever know of him. A kind of life I don't have myself. Not sure what to do with the feeling, I bury it down.

"Luana is a pretty name," I tell him.

"Isn't it? My grandma on that side is from Portugal," he says. "A lot of my dad's family is, too, although I sadly know only a little Portuguese."

"Yeah, I only speak English. I've picked up some Spanish, though, in high school."

"What about your family?" he asks gently. "You said you aren't close?"

I shake my head. "My mom's passed. Never knew my dad, Randy's son. And I've got no extended family to speak of. But when I was growing up, my mom and I got along fine enough. It was just the two of us, and we butted heads, but we made it work."

Nicholas touches my elbow lightly. "Being on your own is tough."

He says it with some sympathy in his voice, but without making me feel pitied. More like it's a hard fact worth acknowledging.

"I like to depend on myself," I tell him. "Make my own way without needing other people. But yeah. It would have been nice to have someone backing me up a few times."

Wind rustles through the trees, and when Nicholas turns, he clicks his tongue. "I spot Aurora."

I turn, too. "Where?"

He points. "The entire opposite end of the farm."

I snort. "Alright. Lead the way."

We take off down another path.

"I hope you don't mind me saying, but you really are Randy's grandson. He was a committed bachelor, too. And he hated depending on other people, although unlike you, he loved company."

"I guess I figured some of that out. Considering he had a carpenter like Sue as his friend and neighbor, but he still let his building fall into disrepair." I shove my hands in my pockets. "And I don't have a problem with other people. Just so long as they leave me alone."

Nicholas laughs. "You're an introvert, I get it. But you and Randy still would have liked each other," Nicholas says. "Do you enjoy hearing about him?"

I consider it, my mind wandering to the journal and picture. I've only flipped through, still hesitating to dive deep. And I'm not sure if Nicholas will think it's weird that I'm reading it, violating Randy's privacy or something, like maybe I don't have the right. I decide not to mention it now.

"Yeah, I think I do like learning about him. The more time I spend here, the more I feel like I should know the guy."

We walk by some sprinklers, spraying water in a circle. Now is the time to ask more, if I'm ever going to.

"Randy never said anything about my father? Or any family?"

"There were a few things Randy refused to talk about. Those included his family, any serious ex-boyfriends, the condition of his health, and Cher after one horrible concert experience during her first farewell tour."

I chuckle and consider how reluctant I am to talk about serious shit like that, too. Although I do talk a little bit with Nicholas. Makes me uncomfortable, but I guess he already knows some of my secrets.

"Sometimes, when there's nothing you can do about your problems, it's easier to just not talk about it," I say.

"Maybe. I like sharing my problems and receiving support, same as I like supporting the people I care about and hearing what's on their minds."

I grunt. "Sounds awkward."

Nicholas laughs. "Sometimes. But I get it. You're the only one who knows what's right for you."

I do like helping, feeling like I've contributed something. It's just the sharing my problems part that I struggle with.

"Randy was a difficult man, wasn't he?" I ask, wondering in the back of my mind if Nicholas sees me that way, too.

"In his way. But he was fun. And funny. He was always busy with living. Even though he grouched around and cussed at everyone, he was out in the world every day, hurrying up and down the street, just being Randy. His philosophy was to do what made you happy, and everyone else can fuck off."

"Now that's a philosophy I can get behind."

"What do you do to make yourself happy?"

"Work."

He laughs. "Okay. But what else?"

"I don't need much. I like to drink a beer at the lake. Kick back with a movie. Just chill out. You know," I half-joke, "so I can work more."

We walk up a slight incline, and a woman with silver hair and a watering hose appears before us.

"Nicholas," she says. "I thought I spotted your car."

Nicholas introduces us, and a moment later, he excuses himself to talk to Aurora. I lean against a tree, catching some shade, and watch bees and butterflies float among the flowers.

It take a lot of guts to launch a business like his, even with family support. And the way Nicholas talks about his craft is sexy to me. He's skilled. And he's done the hard work to refine his talent into something impressive.

If I were ever going to date someone, a person like him would make sense. Someone who understands the value of making something, building with your own sweat. But a person who doesn't give in to the grit of it. Someone who lightens me up, reminds me I can enjoy myself, too.

Not that I'd ever consider a relationship.

Nicholas seems like the kind of guy I could trust, but that's the problem. Because eventually he'd remember what he really wants, someone else sweet and kind to sweep him off his feet. Someone for candlelit dinners and marriage proposals. Someone with friends and family like his.

Not me.

When Nicholas returns, he has a folder under one arm, and he looks frazzled.

"Everything okay?"

"It's fine," he says, although not convincingly. "The corporate store wants to place a huge order, but she's being generous and allowing me to reserve my flowers first. There are a couple flowers they want to buy her out of entirely going forward, but those are all common, and I can source them elsewhere."

I furrow my brow. "But you're not happy with that." Somehow, I'm able to read him. "You're like me. You don't want your business to run on favors and goodwill."

Nicholas rubs his hand over his face. "I like patronizing Starlight!" he says. "They benefit from my business, and I benefit from theirs. That's the whole happy relationship. And if that's changing, beyond how it makes me feel, I need to consider the implications. If the suppliers start getting better offers, I can't expect them to turn the business down."

"Yeah. I can understand why you'd feel that way."

Casually, Nicholas links his arm with mine. He doesn't make anything of it, but my pulse jumps as we start back down the path.

True to form, he doesn't let the bad news shake him for long. Instead, he takes a deep breath, turns his face to the sun, and leads us back down the path.

"I'm grateful for Aurora, regardless. And we'll see what the other farms have to say. Now let's find Kavya. We can't lose her to the ranunculus."