“Oh.” The hand not holding her coffee flew to her mouth.
There in front of her shop, right across the lower portion of the window, stretched a window box overflowing with flowers: daisies—white and painted—gerberas, baby’s breath, low-growing zinnias, marigolds, petunias, nasturtiums, portulaca. The riotous circus of color lit up the entire front of the building.
“Oh . . . ,” she exclaimed. “Oh . . .”
“You might want to move out of the way before someone mows you down,” a voice behind her called. She turned to see Tuck leaning out the driver’s side window of his truck.
“Did you do this?” She gestured to the front of her shop. “All this?”
“Guilty as charged.” He eased to the curb and parked. “I got to thinking about how that long, low window box we talked about might look, and it kept nagging me.” He got out of the cab and walked toward her. “So I nailed a few boards together, slapped some paint on them, and brought the whole thing down here last night.”
“But the flowers . . . where . . . ?” She pointed but was still having a problem getting the words out. The front of her shop was glorious and looked so perfect she could barely believe it was hers.
“Oh, those. Well, you know Kathleen over at the nursery?” He joined her in the street, then took her elbow and guided her to the sidewalk. “I checked in with her on Saturday to see what flowers she had left. Since it’s the end of the season, I wasn’t sure she’d have anything, but as you can see, she had a bunch. When I told her what I was doing, she loaded me up with what she had. Said it was her grand opening gift to you. So if anyone asks you where the flowers came from, you be sure to direct them to Kathleen.”
“I will. And I’ll call her.” Liddy nodded, still stunned at the sight of all that unexpected glory gracing the front of her shop. For one long moment, she was tempted to throw her arms around Tuck’s neck, but good sense cautioned it wouldn’t be a good idea for her to be seen hugging the man right there in the middle of town, gossips being what and who they were.
“Oh, the hell with it,” she muttered.
If Tuck was surprised by having Liddy’s arms wrap around him and hug him so tightly, he gave no sign. He hugged her back, so she figured he must have welcomed the gesture. His body felt solid and strong, and he smelled faintly of pine and WD-40, which brought a smile to her face. Jim had always worn a musky-scented aftershave he insisted was “manly.” After he left her, the first time she caught a whiff of it on someone in the coffee shop, she’d almost thrown up. Pine and WD-40 were different but nice in their way, and infinitely better.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you. This just may be the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.” Liddy was so happy she had to stop herself from dancing right there. “It’s all so beautiful. And look how gorgeous those flowers are with those tall urns on either side with the vines trailing down. Oh, the flowers are glorious, Tuck, and that sign! It’s gorgeous! Perfect. I don’t know how to thank you.”
His dark eyes—pirate’s eyes—stared into hers for what seemed to be a long time. “I could think of something.”
Heat flushed her cheeks—Was she actually blushing?—and she slowly disengaged herself from his embrace and laughed uncertainly. “What do you have in mind?”
“Well, I remember all those times I was at your house, working on the carriage house or the back deck, and sometimes I’d check in with you before I left for the day.” The corners of his mouth curved up just ever so much. “And sometimes I’d walk into your kitchen, and there you’d be cooking dinner, and wow, I’d be knocked out.”
Liddy blinked. The sight of her cooking dinner had knocked him out? What kind of chauvinistic comment was that? Or maybe she’d looked better back then than she remembered, and he’d liked the way she looked.
“I swear I never smelled anything better than your beef stew.”
“Beef stew?” It hadn’t been her curves or her smile or her charm that had dazzled him? Disappointment washed through her.
He nodded. “Yup. Fantasized about it for years. So if you really want to thank me for this . . .” He gestured at the flower box. “You could invite me for dinner and make beef stew.”
“Ah . . . well, sure. I could do that.” She tried to cover up the fact she felt let down. “Maybe Sunday? I’ll be here at the shop every night this week—first week, I need to be here, you know. But maybe Sunday I could get Grace to close for me.”
“Sunday would be perfect.”
“Great.” She nodded. “I’ll check with Gracie and let you know.”
“I’ll wait to hear from you.”
“Okay, then. I should go inside and get ready to open.”
“Wait. Stand over there next to the urn close to the door.” Tuck directed her to the spot, then took his phone from his pocket. “We need to commemorate your big day.” He took several pictures, then held out the phone for her to check the images. “Approve? Thumbs-up? Or down?”
“Definitely up for the first two—delete that third one, please. I look angry. Four is good. Five is perfect.”
“I’ll send them to your phone, and you can do what you want with them.”
“Tuck, thanks for everything this morning. For just a few minutes, I forgot to be on edge.”
“What do you have to be nervous about? Everyone in town has been talking about this for weeks.”
“They have?”
Tuck nodded. “Sure have. Liddy, you have a lot of friends in this town. You’ve lived here all your life. Everyone knows you. And everyone remembers how you’ve supported every other business in Wyndham Beach and wants to return that support. Besides, we’ve been four, five months without a bookstore, so everyone’s excited.”
“Thank you. God, I hope you’re right.” She opened the door, and they went inside.
“Of course I’m right. Now, didn’t I see a big ‘Grand Opening’ flag behind the counter?” Without waiting for her to answer, Tuck nudged her with his shoulder and said, “Let’s put it out here for everyone to see. You want all those parents who are dropping off their kids today to know you are open for business.”
The flag was flying over the newly painted red front door when the shop opened at ten, and by ten fifteen, there were more than a dozen shoppers. The carafes of coffee brought across the street from Ground Me were empty by noon, and the new-release table was almost sold out. For most of the morning and early afternoon, the checkout line stretched from the cash register in the front of the shop almost to the children’s section at the very back. Emma had stopped in to lend moral support but quickly volunteered to do the bagging as Liddy rang up purchases. The lunch hour brought in more local residents, and later in the afternoon, there’d been an influx of well-dressed shoppers who’d stopped in because they’d seen the foot traffic, and they’d stayed to pick up a book or two. Jessie’s framed posters drew a lot of interest, and Grace never failed to direct attention to the greeting cards, most of which were sold.
“How are you holding up?” Emma whispered to Liddy as she stuffed yet another bag with purchased books.