She laughs quietly. “It is. And you’re the best boss I’ve ever had.”
“Thanks.”
I grab a shirt and head to the living room. I glance around the house, knowing I may not even be welcome here, but it’s a chance I had to take. Noise from the kitchen has me investigating. Tag is up and is making coffee.
“Hey.”
He turns and lifts his chin. “Morning.”
“Any word from her?” I ask.
“She texted me late last night. I didn’t want to wake you. She stayed the night at Piper’s house in the city.”
I breathe a sigh of relief. Neither of us were sure if she was even coming back here after she failed to show up yesterday. Three days is the longest it should take anyone to make the drive from Texas to New York. Unless they weren’t in any hurry to get home. Unless they didn’t want to come home at all.
Josie, Sophie, and I arrived yesterday. When I couldn’t get a hold of Amber on Tuesday, I called Tag. He knew she left Texas. And he knew why. What he didn’t know was that I still had Josie, and I had every intention of having Amber too. After filling him in, we devised a plan. I’d fly up here and try and get her back.
Telling her over the phone that I kept Josie wasn’t something I wanted to do. That’s a conversation two people need to have in person. But after having days to think about it, I wonder if I did the wrong thing. What if she only takes me back because of Josie? What if she doesn’t want me at all—just her?
If Amber doesn’t want to be with me, though, I wouldn’t change my mind about having a daughter. Wow. Even hearing myself think the word daughter is wild. But for two days now, it’s exactly what she’s been. And I’m her dad. In the airport, people complimented me on how beautiful my daughter was. The flight attendant asked if there was anything she could do to make the flight more pleasant for my daughter. And the woman across the aisle told me I was a good father after she saw me with Josie on the long flight. Sophie helped, of course. I still can’t believe she agreed to come up here with me. But the last thing I wanted for Josie was to have a new stranger helping care for her.
So here we all are, in Amber’s house—thanks to Tag and his spare key—waiting to see how or if our lives are going to change. Last night after we arrived, Tag and I moved Amber’s things into the main bedroom. It wasn’t that hard since Ben’s stuff had been cleared out before the funeral. I want her to feel at home here. I want her to have happy memories of the past. And I hope it’s a place where we can build a future.
“Did she say when she’d be back?” I ask.
He taps out a text. “Asking now.” He puts his phone down. “Coffee?”
“Please.” I open a cabinet, remembering where she keeps the mugs. He pours me a cup and we sit at the kitchen table. “How do you think this is going to go down? Be honest.”
“Amber hates surprises. Always has. She’ll be pissed at me for being a part of this. She’ll feel set up. Blindsided.”
“Jeez—don’t hold back.”
“Let me finish. She’s also one of the smartest people I know. And when she gets over herself, she’ll realize how much she wants this.”
“This?” I glance to the bedroom where Josie is still sleeping. “Or me?”
“Well, you come as a package deal, I presume.”
“But do you think she’ll want me as part of the package?”
“Quinn, I’ve known Amber forever. I’ve never heard her talk about another guy the way she talks about you. Never seen her look at a man the way she looks at you. But you know as well as I do that she thinks you’ll leave. Or get cancer or Alzheimer’s. Or hell, get hit by a bus. She’s got deep wounds that aren’t going to heal the minute she sees you. Being a strong independent woman is a façade. She’s really just a fragile little girl trying to find her place in the world.”
“Well, she’s found it. I’m her place.”
“I hope so, man. I hope so.” His phone pings. “It’s her. She’ll be here in two hours.”
I stand and wash out my cup. “I’m taking a shower. Is there someplace you can take Josie and Sophie so I can talk to Amber alone?”
“My place is only a few minutes away. You can text me if you want us to come back over.”
An hour later, the three of them leave. I pace the living room, nervous as hell. I can’t just sit here and wait. I walk out the front door and look down the street. Amber’s house is close to a shopping area. I specifically remember a flower shop from when Piper was talking about it for Ben’s funeral. I shut the front door and walk in that direction.
The bells over the door chime when I enter. A little girl runs out from the back. She can’t be more than four or five. “Hi,” she says. “You want flowers?”
“I do. But aren’t you a little young to be running things around here?”
“I’m a ’prentice,” she says.
A woman comes around the corner, carrying a huge armload of flowers. “You mean apprentice, Gigi.”
I trot over when she looks like she might lose her grip. “Let me help.” We put the flowers on the counter.
“Thanks.” She extends her arm. “I’m Maddie. And this is Gigi.” Her long sleeve rides up, revealing a bad scar that looks like a burn. She quickly pulls the sleeve down to cover it.
I avert my eyes from her arm and glance at her daughter. “Ah, so she’s the Gigi in ‘Gigi’s Flower Shop’?”
“Sort of. Not really. Long story.”
“Well, it’s nice to meet you both. I’m Quinn.”
She appraises me. “You’re not from around here.”
“No, ma’am. I’m from Texas.”
Her mouth closes, then opens, then closes again. “So you’re the cowboy who was the buzz of the town a few months ago.”
“Ma’am?”
“Quit with the ma’am stuff. I’m only twenty-six. You can call me ma’am when I turn sixty.”
I laugh. “Okay, Maddie. You were saying?”
“You’re Amber’s friend. The one who came for the funeral and who she disappeared with for the past two months.”
“I guess I am.”
“Shame about Ben. Amber’s father was a good man. He’ll be missed. Are you here for good?”
“I’m about to find that out.”
She smiles. “Ahh, and you need flowers to go with the ring.”
“What? No. No ring.”
She shrugs. “Darn. A lot of people around here think it’s about time Amber found herself a man and settled down.”
“Is that so?”
She leans in and whispers, “Broke up more than a few marriages, that one.”
“Did she now?”
“In her defense, the three bastards never told her they were married.”
Gigi skips over. “What’s a bastard?”
“Nothing, sweetie. How about we help this nice man find some flowers?”
Gigi appraises me, her index finger tapping her lip like she’s thirty-four, not four. “Are they love flowers?” she asks. “Or did you do something bad?”