The bell dinged again. She tore her gaze from the flowers and took in the long, tall cowboy walking toward her without his signature good-natured smile.
Tate stuffed his hands in his jeans pockets. “I’d have gotten you those pony flowers you like.”
“Peony,” she corrected, but had to smile at his folly, though she suspected he knew the name of the flowers she liked and purposefully used pony to make her laugh. It worked. With Tate, it all worked. Except for the one thing she wanted with him: their friendship with sex.
“And these are lovely.”
Tate’s gaze took in the huge bouquet. “That’s a pretty big apology for him acting like a jackass last night.”
“Imagine if we were dating and you had to make up for being a jackass for the last six weeks,” she shot back.
Tate sighed and hung his head.
Damnit, she hated when he looked all adorably apologetic. She usually let him off the hook without a second thought. But not this time. Not when he’d ignored her for weeks and didn’t even notice her absence.
It hurt. Deeply. He owed her an explanation and a real apology.
Tate’s gaze came up and met hers. “Lizard—” He shut up the second she glared at that stupid nickname. “Liz. Please. Give me a chance to . . .”
She waited ten seconds for him to finish that statement.
In the end, nothing came out of his mouth. He just stared at her.
One of their best customers and her friend Emmy came out of the back room. “Mrs. Bendle is finished with her facial and mani-pedi.” Emmy touched Mrs. Bendle’s shoulder in goodbye, then focused on Tate. “Sweet of you to bring Liz flowers.”
Tate’s lips tilted in a lopsided frown. “They’re not from me.”
“Too bad.” Emmy gave her an I’m-not-a-Clint-fan look, a tilt of her head in Tate’s direction, silently telling her to stick with him, then headed back to her work area. They’d had a couple conversations over the last few weeks about her budding relationship with Clint. Emmy thought her lack of enthusiasm meant she should stick with the man who made her heart race.
What good was having all the feelings when she was the only one feeling them?
Mrs. Bendle handed over her credit card. “I didn’t think men sent flowers anymore unless it’s one of those silly picture things they text. That’s not real. It lacks emotion. Flowers say something. He took the time.”
Liz handed over the receipt for Mrs. Bendle’s signature. “That was my thought, too.”
Tate glared at her.
Mrs. Bendle took her copy of the receipt and turned to Tate. “Looks like you’ve got some competition.” She walked out, leaving those words hanging between her and Tate.
She didn’t like the intense look in his eyes that she couldn’t read when usually she could practically speak every thought in Tate’s head. “You were saying?”
He checked his watch. “It’s time for your break. Can I buy you lunch? I’d like to talk.”
“Do you actually have something to say to me?”
“Yes. Starting with, I don’t want to lose you.”
Shocked, she gasped and braced her hands on the counter. “Tate—” The rest of what she wanted to say evaporated and her mouth snapped shut as Clint walked in the door, surprising her even more than Tate’s blunt words.
“Hey baby.” Clint walked right past Tate without a word or look and came around the counter, took her face in his hands, and kissed her softly. “I missed you today. Thought we could have lunch together.”
She stared up at him completely at a loss.
“Did you like the flowers?”
“Uh . . . They’re beautiful.”
“Like you.” He brushed his nose against hers and his smile lit up his face and eyes.
She had to admit, underneath her stunned surprise, her heart actually melted a little at his unexpected arrival, the sweet kiss, and his desire to see her.
He didn’t stop with the flowers, he showed up.
And it kind of made up for last night.
Clint released her and turned to Tate. “Did I interrupt something?”
Tate looked at her and cocked an eyebrow, expecting her to say something.
“He came by to ask me to lunch, too.”
Clint smiled down at her, then looked back at Tate. “I guess we both behaved badly last night.” Clint slipped his arm around her back. “I thought about it and you’ve been her friend long before I came along. It’s natural you’d look out for her and want only her happiness. I plan to keep making her happy, so I don’t see why we’d have a problem with each other.”
Tate’s gaze bored into Clint’s. “I hope your night ended better than it started.”
Clint shrugged with a mock frown. “Dancing with Liz made my night.” He looked down at her. “I only wish we’d stayed together last night. Instead, I let my jealousy get the better of me. I upset you. I’m sorry.”
She pressed her hand to his chest. “I wasn’t at my best last night either. Let’s just forget it.” All that fretting over what happened last night seemed silly given Clint’s apology and change in attitude toward Tate.
“Great. Let me take you for a burger at that place you love down the street. You can have one of those thick chocolate shakes.”
“She likes vanilla shakes,” Tate pointed out.
Clint kept the smile on his face and didn’t even blink. “Vanilla, it is.”
She’d rather go over to Almost Homemade and get one of Trinity’s yummy Cobb salads, but how could she refuse Clint after the flowers and coming to her workplace in person to invite her to lunch.
She glanced at Tate, who immediately read her mind. “We’ll hook up later.”
That got an eyebrow raise from Clint, but he held his tongue, taking Tate’s veiled taunt in stride.
“Come by the cabin tonight,” Tate implored. He’d never spoken to her with such a need in his voice. “Please, Liz. We can’t leave things like this.”
“We’re seeing that rom-com movie tonight at seven thirty.”
She didn’t know anything about a date tonight. Clint had rolled his eyes when she mentioned she wanted to see that movie rather than whatever robot, blow-up-the-world thing he wanted to see. Again, he was trying to be nice and do what she wanted to do. Even if he hadn’t exactly asked her.
The frustration in Tate’s eyes and voice made her sympathy spike. Tate’s unusually serious gaze held hers. “We will talk about this. I’m not giving up twenty-five years of friendship or you.”
Startled he’d specifically say that last part, she cautioned herself against reading too much into it. Again.
Tate shot Clint a deadly glare and walked out the door.
Her stomach knotted watching him leave and not knowing if they’d ever get back to being what they used to be. Or to at least a more balanced friendship.
“Ready to go to lunch?”
Emmy walked out of the back to take over the front desk for her right on time. She stopped short at seeing Clint instead of Tate, gave Liz a confused look, then took a seat behind the counter and pretended not to pay attention to her and Clint.
“Let me just grab my purse from the office.”