Not the Marrying Kind
Page 2
Barry’s gaze went from the floating balloon to the bouquets Ash had prepared for walk-in customers. Then he paused on Brooke and looked at her as if he had never seen her before even though she’d worked for Ash since the previous summer. A deep groove formed between his brows as he took in Brooke’s nose ring, her kohl-rimmed eyes, and the edgy haircut, short except for a sweeping side bang that almost obscured her left eye.
Brooke met his gaze as if she didn’t care what he thought of her.
Ash couldn’t help admiring her. At Brooke’s age, all she had wanted was to fit in and avoid anything that could make her the subject of gossip again—and that hadn’t changed now that she was an adult.
Finally, Barry turned toward the walk-in cooler that took up most of one wall. In it, cut flowers were arranged in metal buckets. “A dozen red roses, please.”
Brooke rolled her eyes in that way only teenagers could.
Ash nudged her again. “Why don’t you go see if you can help Mrs. Mitchell?” When Brooke trudged away, Ash turned back to Barry. “Roses are always a great choice. I bet Heather will love them. Would you like them wrapped or in a vase?”
“Wrapped, please.” Barry watched while Ash pulled a rose from one of the buckets.
She formed a circle with her thumb and index finger and started slotting flowers into it at an angle, constantly rotating the bouquet as she added more roses and some baby’s breath. Finally, she created a frill around the bouquet with some leatherleaf fern and held her creation out to Barry for his approval.
He nodded. “Looks great. Thanks.”
Ash wrapped the stems with floral tape and trimmed them to an even length.
“Could you make up another bouquet and wrap them too?” Barry asked.
Flowers for his mother? How sweet. Ash smiled. “Sure. Roses too?”
Barry shrugged. “Anything will do. You pick.” He rifled through his wallet while he waited and put his credit card down on the counter. But then he paused and added a couple of bills. He glanced back over his shoulder at Brooke and Mrs. Mitchell. “Um, I’ll pay cash for the roses, if you don’t mind.”
Ash froze with her hand extended toward a bucket of peonies. Jesus. How much more obvious could he be? She schooled her face and tried to keep smiling, but it wasn’t easy.
God knew, she had thoroughly messed up her one and only relationship as an adult, but she had never, ever cheated.
Ash turned away from the peonies and picked yellow carnations and pink snapdragon instead. Heather probably wouldn’t know that the flowers in her bouquet symbolized disappointment and deception, but at least Ash could imagine that she was warning her in some way, saying through flowers what she would never dare voice.
A few minutes later, Barry left, cradling the two bouquets and holding the door open for Mrs. Mitchell and her potted hydrangea.
Brooke stared after him. “Did he just…?”
Ash sighed. “Yeah, I think so.”
“What an ass. Who do you think it is? The chick he’s hooking up with, I mean.”
“I don’t know, and I don’t want to know.” Ash really liked Fair Oaks and the people in this little town—well, most people, most of the time—but the one thing she despised was gossip.
“I bet it’s Cora. I’ve seen her head into the feed and grain a couple of times, and I don’t think she was there for the corn. She’s a postal worker, for fuck’s sake.”
“Poor Heather,” Ash said. “She probably has no idea that he’s giving her a bunch of ‘anything will do’ while sending red roses to another woman.”
“Oh, don’t worry. She’ll find out like this.” Brooke snapped her fingers. “This is Fair Oaks after all. Secrets don’t stay secret here for very long.”
A chill skittered down Ash’s spine, making the air in the flower shop appear even cooler. Her own secret had nearly come out a year and a half before, when Travis had told their former classmates about her car being parked in front of Holly’s house all night long. But that relationship had ended years ago, and everyone had probably dismissed Travis’s suspicions as his dirty little fantasies.
She was safe, especially since she had decided that another relationship wasn’t worth the risk. She’d stay far, far away from the women of Fair Oaks…which was easy to do since they were all straight.
Well, all except for the two women who were now entering the shop to collect the bouquets they had ordered.
Holly was the first to step inside, while Leo hung back, her guarded pop star mask firmly in place.
Was she still angry with Ash? There had been a time when Ash could read her well, but that had been back in high school, when they had been best friends. They hadn’t exchanged more than a quick hello in the year and a half since Ash had tried to warn her away from Holly. It had been a stupid move, caused by hurt and jealousy; she could admit that now, at least to herself.
She was over it. Okay, mostly over it. She swallowed against the lump in her throat as she watched them walk toward her, hand in hand.
Seeing them together was always a little weird. The first girl she had ever kissed dating the first—and only—woman she’d ever been in a relationship with… It was mind-boggling.
But they looked good together, Ash had to admit. Happy.
Brooke watched them approach with a grin. “Let me guess. You want a dozen red roses?”
Ash sent her a warning glance. She really had to talk to Brooke. If Brooke wanted to keep working for her, she would have to learn to hold her tongue in front of customers.
“Um, no.” With her free hand that wasn’t holding on to Leo’s, Holly pointed at the bouquet Ash was still working on. “Actually, I think this one is for us.”
The light caught on a ring glistening on Holly’s left ring finger.
The ribbon Ash had been about to tie around the gerbera stems dropped to the worktable. A gasp escaped her, and she stared at Holly’s hand. As a nurse, Holly had never been one to wear any jewelry, especially not a tasteful but obviously expensive diamond ring. Her gaze darted to Leo’s hand, which sported a similar ring. “Oh my God! Is…is that…? Are you…?”
Holly curled her hand around the ring as if to protect it. A flush of joy colored her cheeks. “I know today is crazy for you. That’s why I didn’t want to say anything today. But if Brooke could hold down the fort for a minute, maybe we could go and talk in the back.”
“Okay,” was the only word Ash could get out.
Leo still hadn’t said a word as Ash led them around the counter and through the open door into the back room.
Casper, Ash’s golden retriever, jumped out of his doggie bed and rushed over to greet them.
Ash was grateful for the distraction so she could get herself together. The low buzz of the flower cooler compressor filled her ears—or maybe it was the chaotic thoughts tumbling through her mind.
Brooke had stared after them, but now she quickly busied herself rearranging the greeting cards next to the counter, affecting a look of sullen teenage disinterest.
Ash didn’t buy it for a second. She closed the curtain that separated the workroom from the front of the shop, which she rarely ever did. For once, she wished for a real door.
With trembling hands, she cleared the small, round table in the corner of bows, little packets of flower food, and floral picks with pink hearts and pushed two chairs and a stool over to it. “Please, sit.” She took the stool and sank onto it.
Casper settled down at her feet as if wanting to lend support.
Leo and Holly sat across from her without letting go of each other’s hand.
Again, Ash’s gaze was drawn to their rings. “You…you’re getting married?”
A joyous smile lit up Holly’s face. “Yes.”
“Wow, that’s…um…” Finally, Ash’s good manners kicked in, and she said, as if on autopilot, “Congratu
lations. I’m really happy for you.” And she was. But at the same time, so many conflicting thoughts and emotions were crashing down on her that she felt as if she were caught in a hailstorm.
“Thanks.” Holly beamed, and even Leo’s celebrity mask was replaced by a warm smile.
They radiated so much happiness that Ash had to look away. How could they be so happy with their sexual orientation, while Ash still struggled with hers? She couldn’t imagine ever getting to a point where she would want to celebrate her love for a woman with a big event that would probably include the entire town.
“We would both really like it if you would come to our wedding and also do our flowers,” Holly said.
Ash peered over at them from under half-lowered lashes. “Are you sure?”
“If you’d rather not do a wedding between two women because of what people—or your parents—might say…” Leo said.
That concern had crossed Ash’s mind. Her parents and some of her more conservative customers wouldn’t be too happy about her being involved in a same-sex wedding, but that wasn’t why she hesitated. “No, that’s not it.” She lowered her gaze to the table. “I mean, after what I said about Holly, I would completely understand if you’d rather use a florist in Kansas City.”
For several seconds, no one answered.
Casper let out a low whine as if sensing the rising tension.
Ash looked up. Oh shit. Unlike Ash, Holly had never been one to hide her emotions, and now it was written all over her face that she hadn’t known about Ash’s careless words.
Both Ash and Leo opened their mouths, but before either of them could say anything, Holly lifted her hand. “I don’t want to know. It doesn’t matter.”
“Of course it matters,” Leo said, heat in her eyes.
“Leo, after everything that happened—your father dying, you firing your manager, and me finally understanding that I can have a happy relationship despite being asexual—I thought we agreed that we don’t want to hang on to any bitter feelings from the past. That’s part of why we want to get married, right? To have a new beginning—and that includes a new beginning for you and Ash too.”
Tears burned in Ash’s eyes. She hadn’t expected that Holly of all people would defend her to Leo. It made her feel even worse about the words she’d spoken in anger. “I know I owe you an apology. Both of you.” She glanced from Leo to Holly and back. “I was hurt and bitter, blaming everyone else for the way my life turned out. But I made my peace with it, and I’d really like to make peace with you too.”
“I’d really like that too,” Holly said softly. “I always regretted losing our friendship, and I’d like to work on getting it back.”
Ash was speechless. She hadn’t expected to be invited back into Holly’s life. Maybe she should have known better. Holly had always possessed the biggest heart of anyone she knew.
Holly squeezed Leo’s hand. “What do you think, honey?”
Leo looked down at her hand that was joined with Holly’s, and when she gazed back up, her tense features had relaxed. “I think you’re right.” She exhaled and looked Ash in the eyes. “You were once an important person in my life. In both of our lives. I won’t lie. It’ll take a lot of work to get that friendship back, but we have to start somewhere. Would you be a part of our wedding and also do the flowers?”
Snippets of what her parents and the more conservative people in town would say echoed through Ash’s head. She shook off those thoughts. If she wanted to earn back Holly’s and Leo’s friendship, she had to do something to deserve it. “I would be honored.”
Chapter 2
By the time Ash had checked her orders for the next day, cleaned up the shop, and prepped the leftover roses to donate to the local retirement home, it had long since gotten dark outside. Her hands were sore and covered in little nicks, her feet and her back were killing her, and except for the two cupcakes, she hadn’t eaten all day. All she wanted was to crash on the couch with a cheese pizza from Casey’s.
But before she could pass out from Valentine’s Day-induced exhaustion, she needed to walk Casper. The poor boy hadn’t even gotten his usual lunch break walk today. Ash’s dad had merely taken him outside in between delivery runs.
At least the sleet—part rain, part snow—that had fallen all day had stopped, and she could drop off the money bags in the bank’s night deposit box on her way to the park.
Fair Oaks lay in silence as they strolled through town. Casper’s softly jingling dog tags produced the only sound around. All of the stores had closed hours ago. Streetlamps threw warm pools of yellow light onto the pockmarked asphalt of Main Street and the cracked sidewalks. Her breath condensed in front of her face, adding to the feeling of being in her own little bubble.
Being out alone at this hour was magical. By the time she reached the bank, Ash could already feel some of the stress leaving her.
A tall figure lurked in front of the night deposit box. A thick coat and a woolen hat made it impossible to even guess the stranger’s gender, but the imposing height made Ash’s pulse quicken.
She clutched the strap of her purse, where she had stuck the bank bags, with one hand while white-knuckling Casper’s leash with the other. God, she was glad she had the dog with her. If push came to shove, she was pretty sure he would defend her.
But Casper didn’t growl. He let out an excited woof and bounded forward to greet the stranger—or rather the tiny dog at the person’s feet.
The stranger turned, and the light of the streetlamp next to the bank illuminated Sasha Peterson’s strong features. Her thick, brown braid stuck out from beneath her woolen hat and hung down in front of one broad shoulder. A sprinkling of flour dusted its tip. Apparently, she was on her way home from work too.
While the dogs began their butt-sniffing ritual, Sasha and Ash stared at each other.
“Jeez,” Sasha said. “I didn’t hear you walk up. You scared the crap out of me.”
“Out of you?” Ash eyed Sasha’s muscular six-foot frame. She didn’t look as if she had much to fear.
Sasha shrugged. “I do cupcakes, not kung fu.” She reached down to pet Casper, who sniffed her and then tried to lick her hands.
“Casper, no.” Ash pulled him back.
“Are you dropping off today’s cash too?” Sasha asked.
When Ash nodded, she pulled out the handle for her so Ash could drop her bank bag into the deposit box.
“Thanks.” With the money safely dropped off, Ash headed toward the park, and Sasha followed.
Ash glanced at the fawn-colored French bulldog scampering after Casper on much shorter legs. “I didn’t know you had a dog. Did you just get him or her?”
“Um, yeah, kind of. Snickerdoodle is my aunt’s.”
“Snickerdoodle?” Ash laughed.
The sound of Sasha’s chuckle, deep and full of mirth, filled the night. “Well, my aunt wanted to name her Snatch because she’s always snatching up anything edible, but I managed to talk her out of it.”
“Sna—” Ash bit back a laugh. “Um, Snickerdoodle is not such a bad name after all. Although it’s a mouthful for such a small dog.” She watched them out of the corner of her eye. The sight of the tall, solidly built woman walking her aunt’s tiny French bulldog with its pink sweater made Ash grin.
“What?” Sasha patted her coat as if believing she had clumps of dough stuck to her clothes.
Ash hid her grin. “Oh, nothing.”
They walked along the creek, silence falling between them. Since the creek was frozen, not even its gentle murmur filled the air.
Even though they had mutual friends, Ash had never talked to Sasha, at least not about anything important, so now she didn’t know what to say. She had a feeling Sasha would be easy to talk to, but—truth be told—Ash had avoided her for years.
Except for Holly and Leo, Sasha was probably the only p
erson in town who knew that Ash was gay—at least the only person who knew for sure. Not that she and Holly had ever talked about it, but Ash assumed that Holly had told her closest friend about them back when they had first gotten together.
Even worse, Sasha likely knew all the ugly details about their breakup too.
Ash wasn’t proud of the way she had handled their problems back then, and she hated that another person knew about it. It made her feel exposed, as if she were strolling through town stark naked.
She shivered and drew her coat more tightly around herself. For a second, she considered telling Sasha that she would prefer some peace and quiet after her busy day and wanted to walk her dog alone, but that would have been rude, so she continued on without saying anything.
Thankfully, Sasha either didn’t know what to say to her, or she didn’t feel the need to talk.
When they neared the bridge leading to the part of town where Ash lived, Sasha cleared her throat. “So, good day?”
Ash nodded. “Long day too.”
“I hear you. I’ve been baking since three a.m. I think I’m going to need a few days to get my stamina back before we get together.”
Stamina? Get together? What on earth…? Ash’s foot slid out from under her on a wet patch of grass.
“Whoa!” Sasha caught her before she could fall. “Careful.”
Sasha’s scent—cinnamon and something else, something spicier—engulfed her. Ash was much too aware of the strong fingers wrapped around her elbow. Annoyed with herself for even noticing Sasha’s scent or the way her hand felt on her arm, she pulled away. “W-what do you mean?”
“It’s dark, and the grass is wet, so you’d better stay on the path, or you’ll—”
Ash waved her hand. “Not that.” Then the potential meaning of Sasha’s words hit home, and a blush warmed Ash’s face. “Oh. You’re talking about getting together with the gang on Saturday, right?” Duh, what else did you think she was talking about? A date?