And the second I could, I laid a hand on the small of Tess’s back and nodded to Natalie.
She stood, smiling on the sidewalk, as the photographer snapped pictures of the front of the shop. When we approached, she offered a hand and a smile.
“Well, we didn’t quite expect all of this, but what a pleasant surprise,” she said, gesturing to the windows.
“I know just how you feel.” I glanced at the photographer. “I didn’t think you’d be shooting though.”
“It was too perfect not to. We haven’t filled the spot, so I was hoping we could still do the piece, if you’re interested. I know after the other day you might not want to—”
“We’ll do it,” I interrupted. “But this isn’t the installation you asked for.”
“It’s not, but this story is even better. The Bennet family comes together to save the family legacy. How Luke Bennet and Tess Monroe brought the failing flower shop back from the dead and found love somewhere along the way. I’d like to feature you, the two of you, as the center of the article. What do you think?”
I glanced down at Tess, deferring to her, sure she’d decline such a public exposure.
But to my utter shock, she smiled broadly and said, “I think it sounds brilliant.” She looked up at me, full of hope and love. “What do you think?”
“Tess, I want to tell the whole world how much I love you, and this seems as good a medium as any.”
And she laughed up at me as long as she could before I kissed her.
26
Make a Wish
TESS
The day was a whirlwind.
The Bennets rallied, taking care of the shop while the photographer followed Luke and me around as we toured a typical day in the life of Longbourne. Luke and I clipped flowers, buckets and armfuls. I made a few arrangements as the shutter clicked. We went to storage and pretended to work on things, which mostly consisted of Luke using power tools without purpose and the two of us fiddling with some of the old installations like they were new. While we stuffed our faces with pizza, the photographer shot the rest of the Bennets in their natural habitats—Mr. Bennet and Kash in the greenhouse, Mrs. Bennet in the front with Jett, Laney taking pictures with her phone and ribbing Marcus, who looked both wildly out of place and perfectly himself in a suit black as midnight.
Everyone seemed equally pleased and exhausted by the time we were finished in the early afternoon. Mrs. Bennet retired to rest, and the rest of the brood dispersed. I jumped into work with Ivy, and I thought Luke would leave to run deliveries. But he didn’t seem to want to be parted from me, and for that, I was ecstatic.
Four days without him had been too long.
We closed the shop at dusk, said goodbye to everyone, the last ones there, as we always were.
And when we were alone, it was as if no time had passed, as if nothing had changed. Except everything had, and in the best way.
I sighed blissfully as he locked the grate and the front door. The possession I felt for him ran bone deep as I measured the breadth of his back, marked the flashes of his jaw. The care he took, the love he gave to this shop, to his family, to me. In this man was a heart too big to contain, with patience and love beyond the bounds of comprehension. And he was mine.
Never had I felt so fortunate. Not in my entire life.
When he stood, he turned to me with that smile on his face, the one that had once infuriated me simply because I thought it could never be mine. The one that now lit me up like a pyre, dedicated to my love for him.
He took my hand and stepped into me. My chin rose so I could hold his eyes.
“I love you,” I said.
“Good, because I love you too.”
The brush of his lips against mine were too tender, too achingly adoring.
“Come on,” he said, towing me toward the back.
I chuckled, trotting to keep up. “We can go to my place, you know.”
“I know. But this … this is our place.”
The simplicity of the words didn’t undermine their weight. And I followed him through the moonlit greenhouse, carried on a cloud of perfume and hopes and starlight.
Storage was dark, but he knew the way. My hand was lost inside his, his free hand reaching for the outlet. When the golden fairy lights illuminated the space, it felt like we were standing in a dream. The dandelions he’d made surrounded us among the familiar furniture and frames, baskets and crates. And there in the middle was our hay pile, the home of my happiness and joy.
This. This was where I had fallen in love. This was where I’d learned to let go. This was where I’d found myself and where I’d found the man who changed my life.
When he kissed me again, it wasn’t a brush or a flutter. It was a claiming. He captured me with his arms, his lips. With his hands, so strong as he laid me down. With his hips, so insistent. It wasn’t slow, though it was deliberate—the way he undressed me, the way he touched me. The way he kissed me whispered a word to me, and my heart echoed another back.
Mine, his body said.
Yours, mine replied.
And he took the offering I gave with a declaration of heart, a promise of self, one I knew was forever.
Forever. I knew without knowing that he was my forever.
And I wouldn’t waste a minute.
Not one.
27
Imagine That
LUKE
Tess chuckled against my chest, and I pulled her a little closer, as close as we could get without tripping and eating sidewalk.
“Seriously, as much as I love the hay pile, can we please sleep at my place tonight?” she asked. “I’m going to be picking hay out of my hair for a week after sleeping there last night.”
“You say that like it’s something new.”
“I know, but now we actually have another option. My room is on the other side of the apartment, and Dad not only sleeps like a rock, but he has a white-noise machine. Please?” She was almost whining. “Just think—clean sheets and pillows and a nice, soft bed that doesn’t make us itchy.”
“You sure your dad is okay with that?”
“He says he is. I’m sure he’s not thinking about it in much detail.”
I laughed. “God, I hope not.”
“Honestly, I think he’s just so happy about the prospect of us and of me not ending up a spinster, he’d agree to just about anything.”
I kissed the top of her head. “All right, we’ll sleep at your place, but if I wake up with a rifle pointed at me, I’m out like disco.”
That earned me a laugh and a squeeze of her arms around my waist. “I’ll lock up his bullets at least.”
“Preciate’ that.”
We turned the corner toward the shop and my parents’ place where dinner with my family awaited. The last thirty-six hours, Tess and I had only been apart for a forty-five-minute stretch, so we could shower and deal with our families. Well, I’d dealt with mine and rushed off to her place as quick as I could.
Part of me worried it was all a trick of the mind, that I’d knock on her door and she’d be gone or we’d be kicked back to a few days ago when everything was suspended midair, when we were waiting to see what would happen when the chips fell. But she’d answered the door, flushed and smiling, hair damp and smelling of flowers.