Gus disappeared into the front of the shop. I was distantly aware of him talking on the phone but tried to block him out as my mind whirred in a desperate attempt to recreate my butchered bouquets. My knees trembled, and my heart pounded, but all I could see was a bride rocking up to her dream wedding with empty hands. And that was without considering the fact that the van I could barely afford in the first place had been smashed to bits.
I gathered together everything of any use from the fridge and ventured to the front of the shop. Gus was standing in the window, feet spread wide, arms folded, looking every inch a burly bouncer.
“The police are coming,” he said. “Might be a while though, it’s not considered an emergency.”
I opened my mouth to agree but thought better of it and laid the flowers out on the counter. “Damn it.”
“What?” Gus spun around. “What is it?”
“I threw my planning sheet out. It’s in the bin outside.”
“I’ll get it. Lock the door behind me.”
“Gus, the bin is twenty feet away.”
“Just do it.”
Sighing, I did as I was told, locking the door behind him, then unlocking it when he knocked ten seconds later.
Except it wasn’t him on my doorstep.
It was Luke.
I blinked, inexplicably blindsided. “What are you doing here?”
He leaned on the door frame, expression, as ever, unreadable. “Gus called me. I came to help.”
“With what?”
“Whatever you need, Mia.”
There were so many things I needed from him right now, but the words to voice them wouldn’t come.
Lacking any better ideas, I stepped aside and waved him in, ignoring the internal flinch when he hesitated, despite him being the one on my doorstep.
I drifted back to my work, assuming Luke would seek Gus out, but he followed me and peered over my shoulder.
“What are you doing?”
“Remaking the bouquets that were wrecked.”
“The ones in the van?”
“Yes. Gus told me not to touch anything, so I don’t know if anything is salvageable.”
“Are you okay?”
“Really? We’re doing this again?”
“Doing what?”
I slammed my hand down on the counter. “You know what! This ridiculous game that carries us round in circles every time one of us has a fucking crisis. We’re either in each other’s lives, or we’re not. I can’t handle this constant back and forth.”
Silence. For a protracted moment, I feared he’d sigh and walk away like he always did.
Then he closed his hand around my shoulder. “Mia, I’m here. And after this is sorted, I want to talk...for real this time.”
What did that even mean? My stress-addled mind had no idea until I recalled the words I’d screamed at him the last time I’d seen him. When I’d told him his heartrending letter would never be good enough. “I don’t know when this will be sorted.”
“I’ll wait.”
Gus burst into the shop. “I told you to lock—” He stopped when he saw Luke. His eyes darted to Luke’s hand on my shoulder. “Doesn’t matter. Did you get your tyres changed?”
“Not yet.” Luke reclaimed his hand. “The bloke can’t come out till Monday morning, so you can have a half day if you want. I’ll pay you.”
Gus slugged Luke’s arm, then beckoned him forward. “Come outside. See if the way Mia’s van’s been done is the same as yours.”
I didn’t want him that far away from me. My brother would’ve died for me, but Luke... God, I felt safe with him close.
Biting my lip, I turned back to my work as they went outside. My fingers fumbled with ribbon and glue, but somehow I managed to form the basis of a workable bouquet. It wouldn’t be what I’d planned, or close to what the bride had asked for, but I was hoping my early morning phone call would get lost in Big Day excitement. Become an anecdote for the speeches. Lord knew I wasn’t in the mood for a bridezilla showdown right now.
I pulled my remaining roses together and padded them out with calla lilies and some petunias I’d been saving for my market day window display. The result was beautiful, perhaps better than the original, but I felt nothing as I stared at it, and the disassociation should’ve frightened me.
But somehow it didn’t.
I set the bouquet aside and reached for the daisies I just about had enough of to create more flower girl crowns. I’d run out of wire, though. A quick dash to the back room took longer than I thought. When I got back, the knocking at the front door was loud enough to let me know whoever it was had been waiting.
An hour ago, I’d have opened it without a second thought, but without Gus and Luke at my back, my bravado faded like it had never been there at all. I crept to the door, nerves strained tight enough to snap, until I saw the fluorescent yellow of a policewoman’s jacket.
Relief crashed through me, and I opened the door with a bone-sagging sigh. “Come in. Thank you for coming.”
The policewoman stepped into the shop, her gaze darting around as she clearly took stock of her surroundings and matched them with what she already knew. “You’ve had a break-in?”
“Not exactly. My delivery van was, uh, vandalised.”
“But you’ve had a break-in recently?”
“Yes.”
The policewoman made a note and directed me outside to my van. Luke and Gus were still there, glowering at the mess, but I couldn’t look at the mutilated flowers without gagging, so I stood to one side and let Gus do the talking.
Zoning out in a crisis was a skill I’d perfected over the years. I heard all the words, absorbed them, but their impact was lost as I catalogued the cracks in the tarmac, and the consequences of the latest twist in my fucked up life seemed to belong to someone else. It all did, because this couldn’t be happening. I’d signed the papers, damn it. What more did Laurent want from me?
And that was going on the assumption that this bullshit was down to him. What if it was someone else—some loon I didn’t even know? What if—
Warm hands slid over my hips from behind, and a solid body pressed against me, moulding to my spine like we’d been made to fit together.
“Relax,” Luke whispered, his lips brushing my ear. “You’re safe.”
I’d always been safe with his arms around me, but what happened when he was gone again? When he went back to his life and I went back to mine? And what about him? His tyres had been slashed too, and as much as my brain wanted to argue the case of coincidence, logic said it was connected to whatever nonsense I’d brought home from France.