The longing and quiet envy I felt struck me in the softest of places.
So I put on my work smile to cover it. “We’ll have a grand old time.”
“Plus,” he started with that cavalier smile of his, “this way, you can follow me around and tell me what to do. I know how much you like that.”
My eyes gave a turn, but I was still smiling. “Don’t pretend you don’t enjoy it.”
That smile climbed as he stepped toward me, then into me as he passed, my space and senses invaded. “Wouldn’t dream of it, Priss.”
And then, he passed, leaving me in a whirl of his scent, musky and sweet.
“Come on,” he said over his shoulder. “I’ll show you what we’ve got in the cooler.”
And blinking, I followed, straightening my thoughts as I straightened my skirt, pretending my wits were in perfect order too.
Into the workroom we went, Ivy and Tess chatting idly over their arrangements as Kash showed me the other flowers. We leaned into the open door of the cooler, shoulder to shoulder, close enough to smell mint on his breath and feel the heat of his body against the chill of the cooler.
“They’re exactly what I asked for,” I said.
“Can I get that in writing?”
I bumped him with my shoulder before we backed out. Ivy and Tess looked up from their arrangements with strange expressions on their faces. I felt bald and exposed under their gazes, and so, I offered Tess my absolute best smile and strode toward them.
“Tess, the garland is out of this world.”
She flushed prettily, her brown eyes soft. “Thank you.”
“I mean it. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“She’s got a knack for that,” Kash said, offering her a fond smile.
“It’s a certain kind of magic she possesses,” Ivy added. “Sometimes she walks into the greenhouse and stands there like a savant, staring at the flowers, calculating her creation. We sell out of market bouquets every day, and I swear she’s never quite done the same thing twice.”
“Cut it out,” Tess said on a flustered laugh, reaching into a bucket of mauve hydrangeas.
“It’s okay. I don’t take compliments well either,” I admitted.
“It’s true,” my sister added. “Last time I complimented her hair, she went on for ten minutes about how it was all thanks to her hair products and did her best to convert me to using them. She forgets I work as a florist and not a hot-shot wedding planner and can’t afford Sephora anything.”
“Assistant coordinator,” I corrected. “And I told you, you could use mine.”
“And get addicted to something I can’t afford? I have enough vices, thank you very much.”
“Are you about ready?” I asked, looking over her arrangement to see if I could determine that answer myself.
“Just about. You and Kash get everything approved?” she asked.
“We did,” I said with a glance in his direction, catching him watching me.
He didn’t look away, boldly locking eyes. They were a deeper, darker shade than the other Bennets, shot with a burst of blue so light, it shone silver around his pupil like an eclipse.
“Can we get that in writing?” Ivy joked.
“That’s what I said.” Kash’s lips were tilted, wide and inviting.
God, what was it about that sideways smile? I’d always found smirks to be lewd and a little salacious, but he made the expression feel intimate, like a secret we shared. Except I didn’t know what the secret was.
That smile promised to tell me everything and then some.
A wave of heat brushed my skin at the notion.
Mercifully, Ivy stood. Well, it was more of a cautious slide off the stool, then a waddle to her bag.
“See you guys tomorrow,” she said in parting.
“Don’t have that baby yet,” Tess warned.
A snort from Ivy. “If she decides to show up, I’m not arguing.” At Tess’s frown, she added, “Don’t worry, you’ll all survive without me. In fact, I’m betting you’ll get more work done without me here to distract you.”
“Fat chance,” Tess answered.
Ivy pressed a hand to her belly. “Watch it with the fat talk, Tess Monroe.”
With a laugh, Tess and Ivy embraced, and I watched with a smile and a sigh, thankful Ivy had her little family here. Another stroke of envy brushed my heart—I had no friends like this, no family away from family. Our parents had moved to Phoenix when they retired but came when they could. New York was my home, but while Ivy had always had the Bennets and the shop and now Dean, I only had her. I’d had no real time for friends, not with the demands of my job, and while I’d adopted Brock’s friends—a collection of doctors, lawyers, and otherwise accomplished professionals—they were proximity friends, nothing more. They weren’t the people you texted in the middle of the night or watched old movies with in your pajamas. They were the sort who showed up to dinner and performed, hiding their true nature with predatory skill.
Maybe that was where I’d sharpened my own mask. Maybe it was just the nature of Brock’s circle or the circle of the wealthy. But I longed for something genuine, longed for it in a way I never had before. Not until I’d lost the man I thought I wanted, not realizing how wrong I’d been about what was and wasn’t good for me.
I caught a glimpse of it then, a whole other life, like the fluttering of a curtain behind which another world existed. One where my smiles were effortless, where there was no pretense. Only the simple honesty of connection.
It was alien, that world.
It was a dream, that world.
And then the curtain stilled, shutting off the vision, leaving me only with myself and the ghostly glimmer of what I’d seen.
Ivy hooked her arm in mine. “I’m gonna use so much garlic salt, no one will come within five feet of me for a week.”
With a laugh, I leaned into her, waving at Tess, then Kash, all dark hair and uncomplicated smiles. And I smiled back, that glimmer flickering again like a shard of glass in the sun.
Ivy tugged me toward the front, chattering about pizza with enough gusto that by the time we reached the door to the shop, my stomach growled like a wild animal. I pressed a hand to it, chuckling.
“God, don’t you eat?” she said, pulling her coat as tight as she could around her belly. The seams didn’t come close to touching.
“Of course I eat.”
“It’s just that you’re so skinny.”
“You just say that because you’re so not skinny.”
“Hey!” She pinched my arm, eliciting a yelp. “That’s two fat jokes in five minutes. Not cool.”
“Well, you skinny shamed me, so we’re even.”
She rolled her eyes.
“By the way, I forgot to thank you for telling Kash all my business. What the hell, Ivy?”
She flushed, lips set. “Well, I was trying to explain to Tess, and she kept defending Brock for not giving you orgasms. I needed a tiebreaker, and Kash always gives the best advice.”
I skidded to a halt, pulling her backward with an oof. “You told him about the orgasms?”
“Well, yeah. Isn’t that what he said?”
“You think Kash talked to me about orgasms in the greenhouse? Jesus, Ivy! He told me he was sorry about Brock!”