After two more bites, Brooke sighed with pleasure. “A picnic in bed.... How fun.”
“I can see you missed out on a lot of spoiling,” Gage told her. He nodded to her glass. “Sip. You were thirsty, remember?”
She did and was finally awake enough to connect his nakedness with his intent to stay. As her heart did its increasingly familiar flutter, she asked, “So you locked up?”
“I did.”
“Thank you,” she murmured, glancing at him from beneath her lashes. “Um...with your truck still in the driveway, tongues are bound to be wagging by morning.”
Slowly nodding, Gage watched her, his expression surprisingly closed. “I thought we covered this ground already?”
“No, we agreed you should be here for breakfast. I guess...I must have thought you’d put your car in your driveway.”
“Would that make you feel better?”
Realizing what he was thinking, she leaned over to kiss him. “It doesn’t matter, as long as no one says something ugly to Aunt Marsha. I don’t want her upset, particularly while she’s recovering.”
“Do you think you can keep us a secret for that long?”
She knew what he was really asking, and he had a right to an answer. They both knew her aunt had been doing plenty of matchmaking and should be the last one surprised at her success. However, Aunt Marsha was from another generation. She wouldn’t take kindly to hearing about a blatant affair going on in her own house, not from her customers, let alone her church friends.
“No,” she admitted. “If I’d thought that far. All I knew tonight was that I needed to be with you.”
“And now?”
“I want you even more.”
Gage stroked the soft swell of her left breast, his expression relaxing into a smile. “Usually it’s guys who are so succinct and frank.”
“I’m being honest. I thought you would appreciate that.”
“Oh, I do.” He took another sip of his wine before setting down his glass. Then he set hers beside it. “It helps me gauge how to finish undermining your remaining defenses.”
Every inch of Brooke’s body tingled with anticipation. Even so, the cinnamon bread continued to play with her senses, and she gave into the urge to peek around him at the plate. “Does your strategy leave me with time to finish that?”
“Nope.” Gage brought her against his already aroused body. “You’re too irresistible for your own good.”
“Okay,” she sighed, slipping her arms around his neck. “So I’ll have it for dessert.”
“Angel, you are dessert.”
Chapter Eight
“How do you like it?”
Early on Monday, a little more than a week after her latest surgery, Marsha was transferred to continue her recuperation and therapy at the Sweet Springs Assisted Living and Nursing Facility. The relatively new business was a sprawling residence for people in better-than-average health who just couldn’t maintain their own homes any longer, as well as those who still needed therapy or other around-the-clock nursing care. Brooke thought the one-story dwelling, shaped like a six-pronged star, was clean and bright. So far, the staff she’d met were friendly and caring, too.
“It’s very nice, but can I afford it?” Marsha whispered as though afraid someone might be eavesdropping.
Since she had long been doing her aunt’s accounting, Brooke nodded with confidence. “Right now your Medicare and supplemental insurance are covering things fine. If you think you’d like to move in permanently into the livelier wing, we could sell your house, or your business, or both. There’s also the sale of the commercial property to consider, too.”
As expected, the older woman looked startled. Brooke knew she would be, but since Marsha had brought up the subject, it was as good a time as any to start some kind of dialogue.
“But all of that is your inheritance!” her aunt insisted. “I can’t take that away from you.”
Brooke sat down on the pretty floral upholstered couch and patted her hand as she rested in the wheelchair. “Do you think I want to see you scrimping when you deserve to be comfortable? While I appreciate your intent, Aunt Marsha, I’m young and stable financially. There’s plenty of time for me to make whatever I’ll need for the future.”
“But sell the house?” Her aunt seemed to have gotten stuck on that aspect. “I don’t suppose I’m surprised that you’d say that about the business, but the house? It’s part of your heritage.”
So was the other house that she’d grown up in, Brooke thought with some cynicism, and her father had had no problem selling it to move to Houston. Of course, she wasn’t about to repeat anything of that to her aunt. The poor dear was rattled enough.
“There’s the crib I used and your mother after me, before it was yours,” Marsha continued. “I’d hoped someday it would hold your children. Then there are quilts our mother made. I always thought you’d raise your family there and now hoped you’d bring them to visit me here...if I’m still around by then.”
“And I’d hoped we would live together while you recovered,” Brooke said gently. “But you heard what the doctor said. You’ll have a four-to six-month recuperation period with frequent doctor visits, as your heart adjusts. Then there’s the therapy for your hip, and the osteoporosis to deal with. Your heart doctor told you that you can’t lift anything heavier than your purse anymore, and stairs are out of the question. So returning to the house just isn’t an option.”
Her aunt’s eyes filled with tears. “Well, if we sell, where will you live before returning to Dallas? What about all that’s in the house? And what’s to come of dear Humphrey?”
Brooke knew it had only been a matter of time before they got to the matter of her four-legged companion. “Dallas is way off, if not off the table entirely, and Humphrey is one happy guy. He’ll come visit you soon, I promise. And if you behave and do what the therapist and nurses tell you, it might be safe for you to come home for Sunday brunch.”
Her aunt gave her a confused look. “What’s going on with you? Dallas off the table? You always have to have every i dotted and t crossed before you make any decision. You don’t like things left hanging.”
Knowing she needed to be more careful, Brooke said, “That’s because this isn’t about me. This is about you and what you want and need. In the early days after you broke your hip, you told me that you weren’t looking forward to coming home to that big house and having all of the cleaning and caretaking to deal with.”
“Who knows what I said, they had me on so many medications. I might have managed...eventually.”
“You couldn’t. And your golden years shouldn’t be about cleaning. Naomi told me that just yesterday you two talked with some of your friends about taking some trips that the bank offered, not only what your church arranges.”
“Well, I’m going to call Naomi and tell her that she has a big mouth,” her aunt muttered. “She knows that I have responsibilities with the store even if it was to be put up for sale, which I’m not saying it will be.”
Sensing that things were about to get bogged down by one of her aunt’s occasional streaks of stubbornness, Brooke decided to throw her a little curve ball to get her focused again. “What if I buy your business?”
Her aunt all but gaped. “Brooke, you’re confusing me now. Why should you buy what I wanted to give you?”
“Because first of all, I don’t need that kind of generosity, and second, your health dictates that you can’t afford to just give it to me,” Brooke said gently. “You need the income from the sale. What’s more, I could use the purchase to offset some of my gains.”
Her aunt grew silent for a few moments as she thought about that. “Are you saying that, in a way, by selling to you, I would be helping you?”
“You would,” Brooke replied, hoping her aunt believe
d that and it would help her make up her mind.
Marsha touched a hand to her temple and pondered the matter. “Naomi did tell me there are a considerable number of changes at the store. You did more than just redo the front windows.”
Pursing her lips, Brooke replied, “Naomi is going to find herself fired.”
“You can’t fire her. She’s retired.”
“You know what I mean.” Shaking her head with exasperation, even though she’d known all along that Naomi’s devotion was to her aunt, she explained, “Yes, I’ve been having fun with Kiki, and we’re starting to see a new wave of customers. Teenage girls. Young professional women.”
“I never gave you permission to do all of that.”
“Maybe not, but if your health situation got even worse and you had to sell the place to a stranger, these things would draw more commercial attention, too.”
“Oh.” Her aunt fingered her light-knit pink cardigan and brushed away invisible lint from her dusty pink slacks. “You always did have a good head for business, Brooke. But what about your father? If you stay here much longer, he’s going to come and give me an earful for ruining your life.”
That was entirely possible, and she couldn’t deny it gave her some unease, but she stated firmly, “My decisions are mine to make.” Nevertheless, Marsha did know her father only too well. He would bust a vein if he had a clue as to what Brooke was contemplating doing. “Thankfully, he’s out of the country again.” And hopefully he would stay gone long enough so that, once he returned, there would be nothing he could do about any of it.
Although looking more relieved, Marsha still hadn’t run out of questions. “Where’s Gage been? I’d feel better if I knew what he had to say about all of this.”
Something about the way her aunt kept plucking away at that nonexistent lint told Brooke that Naomi had been talking about more than changes at the store. Since she and Gage had been together each night since her aunt’s surgery, Brooke knew it was time to be up front about things—but in her own way.
“Gage is very supportive about whatever I do.”
Her aunt slid her a disbelieving look. “So if you told him that you were moving back to Dallas, he would do handsprings at your going-away party?”
“Aunt Marsha...if you don’t tell Naomi to quit tattling, I will. Yes, we are seeing each other, but that’s all I’m saying. It’s our business.”
“Naomi didn’t tell me that,” her aunt replied with a dismissive wave. “Liz Hooper did.”
“Excuse me?”
“She was here visiting...I don’t know who. Anyway, she heard I was here, so she stopped by, happy to run her mouth. That one never has anything nice to say about anyone.” Marsha gave Brooke a bemused look. “Why don’t you just say that Gage has been staying at the house with you? I’m so glad. You’ve been looking far less stressed and lonely these days.”
Brooke couldn’t believe her ears. “You’re not upset with me?”
“You’re an adult, dear, and this is the twenty-first century. Besides, Gage is a wonderful man. I couldn’t be happier for you both.”
Brooke was afraid her aunt was reading too much into things and immediately demurred. “Really, Aunt Marsha, it’s too soon to even think what you’re thinking. You are my priority, as is keeping everything going smoothly to make your life as comfortable as possible.”
Looking far less unnerved than she had when they’d first wheeled her into her new quarters, Marsha sighed. “Don’t think I’m not grateful. The truth is that I don’t deserve you.”
“Yes, you do, and it’s my pleasure. When Mother died, life would have been far more difficult without you helping me. Reciprocating allows me to show you that.”
“You’re a dear girl, Brooke.” Marsha reached over and patted her hand. “I couldn’t be prouder of you than if you were my own daughter. As for the business and everything— Well, you know best. I’ll go along with whatever you decided. Just watch out for Liz Hooper. I think she might be the one person in town who isn’t happy you’re back.”
* * *
On the drive to the shop minutes later, Brooke felt as though she’d turned another corner—one that was going to renew her sense of empowerment. While she hadn’t expected her aunt to take the news about Gage as well as she had, she was delighted about that, as well. Everything seemed to getting on the right track again.
Brooke had another idea gelling, too, but it had been too early to share it with Aunt Martha. She didn’t even tell Kiki when she arrived at the shop; however, seeing that they were alone, she did update the young woman, whom she was beginning to see as her protégée, on her plans to purchase the business from her aunt.
“I have a lot of plans for us, so first and foremost, it’s time to start thinking about hiring someone to do arrangements full-time,” she announced. “By chance do you know anyone who might be interested and qualified?”
“Funny you should mention that,” Kiki replied, after enthusiastically applauding Brooke’s news. “There was a young girl here a few days ago—goodness, it might have been when Marsha’s surgery was going on—and she inquired about a job doing exactly what you’re talking about. If memory serves, her husband is a radiologist at the hospital. She seemed sweet, and I took her name and number, but I was so busy, I think I just added it to everything else that I’ve been piling up on the desk. Let me look.” She fretted under her breath as she sifted through junk mail, old catalogs and phone messages from salespeople that weren’t emergencies. “I hope I didn’t lose it.”
“Well, at least you know where her husband works,” Brooke replied. “Maybe we can get him to pass on a message to her.” Brooke thought the girl sounded exactly like who they were needing. “Did she seem as though she was legit and serious about the business?”
“She was more than that. She had a little photo album. Nice stuff.” Kiki gave Brooke a confused look. “I thought Naomi was back to almost full-time?”
“No, Naomi is definitely retired now.” Effective immediately, Brooke thought, although she did not blame the older woman for her devotion to Aunt Marsha. But she wanted to be able to know she had her own loyalty among employees. “She and my aunt intend to travel. She was only filling in as a favor to Aunt Marsha.”
“Then all the more reason to hope I can find— Here it is!” From nearly the bottom of the stack of papers, Kiki drew out a slip of yellow notepad paper. “Hoshi Burns. I knew her first name was unusual. Do you know anyone with that surname in the area?”
“I don’t. They’re apparently transplants due to her husband’s work. I wonder what Hoshi means?” Brooke said.
“Star,” Kiki told her. “I was curious, too, and asked. She’s my age. Is that a problem?”
“Not if she’s half as talented as you are,” Brooke assured her.
Beaming, Kiki handed Brooke the phone. “Then you’d better call. Chances are she’s already found herself a position.”
It turned out that Hoshi had been turned down at the other shops in town, so she was more than grateful to get Brooke’s call. They arranged for her to come down in the next hour, and Brooke put the two orders that had come in while she was at the assisted living facility on the table. Her plan was to ask Hoshi to complete the two arrangements, and if they were satisfactory, she would offer her the job.
In less than fifteen minutes, a petite young woman with an ear-length gleaming black bob and wearing a pressed white blouse and black slacks with ballet-slipper-type flats came in, looking nervous but eager.
“Mrs. Bellamy, I am Hoshi Burns. Thank you kindly to invite me.”
Brooke liked her on sight—they were the same size, and there was a quiet dignity underscoring Hoshi’s professional demeanor that she hoped spoke to some pride in her skills. “Call me Brooke, please. And I’m not married.” She led her to the table and showed her the
two orders. “I see you brought your photos of your work. I’m looking forward to looking at them while I give you a chance to show me what you can do. These two orders that came in a little while ago are selections from the florist association’s fairly precise styles. Do you think you could duplicate them?”
The girl looked at the catalog photos, then inspected the glass cooler in front. “Oh, yes, thank you. I worked in Seattle before we came here, and I know this catalog. I can do this.”
As she set to work, Brooke watched, enjoying the young woman’s sure but graceful movements. “If you don’t mind my asking, what made you move from the North Pacific down here?”
“My husband, Sam, was not happy in the city, and the weather was so gray. We like it very much here and will save to buy a home and land for a garden, and to start a family.”
“In that order?” Brooke teased gently.
Hoshi lowered her eyes, but her smile was sweet. “Maybe it is not possible to wait.” But on the heels of that, she looked anxious. “It would not affect my work, Ms. Brooke.”
“I’m not worried,” Brooke replied, getting increasingly good vibes from the girl.
Hoshi worked with speed and deftness, and in what would have taken Brooke an hour and Naomi nearly that, she had perfected the arrangement so it looked exactly like the photo in the FTD catalog. To Brooke’s increased pleasure, she was equally successful with the other arrangement.
“Well, we would be proud if you could join us,” Brooke said, having already perused her photos. Explaining what the position offered in salary, she asked, “So now the question is how is your schedule?”
“Whatever hours you can give me. When you called, I was about to take a job cleaning motel rooms,” Hoshi said.
Brooke thought of those delicate hands being brutalized by harsh cleansers, even if she did wear gloves, and said, “I think we can spare you that. You can stay and finish today if you’re free, or if not, maybe you can stay long enough for Kiki to start showing you around and explaining all that we offer. She handles the front of the store, but I’m a firm believer in understanding all parts of what makes a business operate. If you already have other plans, maybe you can start at eight tomorrow?” While they had been talking, Kiki had taken another two orders over the phone, and Brooke all but held her breath hoping.
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