Palmetto Passion: A Sweet Small Town Family Romance (The Bradford Brothers Book 1)

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Palmetto Passion: A Sweet Small Town Family Romance (The Bradford Brothers Book 1) Page 2

by Christina Benjamin


  My Jeep rolled to a creaking stop at the red light around the block from Mabel’s Flowers. The shop was truly adorable. But so was everything in Bradford Cove. It was hard to believe a place like this existed.

  I guess I could thank my Jeep for discovering this little gem of a town. Betty, my red tank of a vehicle, had brought me here. It was just supposed to be a pit stop, but somehow, I was still here, long after Betty had been patched up with duct tape and determination.

  Truthfully, I wasn’t sure why I was still calling Bradford Cove home. I wasn’t exactly a vital member of the community.

  I spent my days helping Mabel cobble together birthday bouquets and funeral arrangements and the occasional sweet anniversary present. It wasn’t a bad job. The shop was nice enough and when Mabel propped open the doors the fragrant aroma of roses and lavender tugged at something joyous inside me. But still, working there . . . it wasn’t what I wanted to do with the rest of my life.

  The trouble was, the longer I stayed, the harder it was becoming to figure out my path.

  I drummed my fingers against the steering wheel, peering out from behind dollar store pink sunglasses I’d already managed to chip. My foot kept twitching toward the gas pedal, ready to fly at a moment’s notice.

  Even though I lived only a few blocks from the flower shop where I was employed, every so often I liked to jump in Betty and take her for a whirl around the outskirts of town just to feel the wind whipping my hair around my head like a cyclone. It was the only place I could play my music as loud as I wanted. That’s why I’d jumped at the chance to take the delivery.

  The sleepy streets of Bradford Cove felt too quiet for me most days. Sometimes I was surprised I’d chosen to settle here—though I use the term ‘settle’ extremely lightly.

  Even though it’d been almost a year since I’d landed in the peaceful South Carolina town from the bustling streets of Chicago, all my belongings were still packed in the same cardboard boxes I’d hastily thrown together. I’d managed to slowly unpack a few necessary things to fill my little rental cottage, but for the most part, I still portrayed the part of someone moving out rather than moving in.

  Twenty-nine years old and living like an outlaw on the run. What would my mother say?

  She’d probably laugh that throaty, affectionate laugh of hers, wrap an arm around me, and tell me not to stop running until I found where I belonged.

  The problem was, I didn’t know if I’d ever find such a place. It wasn’t the law I was running from. It was heartache. Which in my opinion, was worse.

  My mother had raised me all by herself, letting me witness firsthand the grit and determination it took to survive on your own. She never sugarcoated anything. When we were pennies away from eviction, she’d thrown herself into her jobs and picked up all the extra shifts she could. She’d sacrificed sleep, food, and luxuries just to make sure I had the best life she could provide.

  I was grateful for those lessons because they were the only things helping me keep my head above water. Living paycheck-to-paycheck had tested my perseverance to the max.

  My Jeep squealed away from the red light when it finally turned green and I rolled a little too quickly back into the parking lot in front of Mabel’s Flowers. I could see Mabel and her husband Hal inside. I watched them both jump at the sound of my squealing brakes. My cheeks heated and I gave an embarrassed wave.

  Mabel and Hal were two of the kindest people I’d ever met, taking me in when I was desperate. They hooked me up with a place to rent, gave me a job, and let me work all the hours they could muster even though they weren’t exactly rolling in cash either.

  Even though I missed my mom like crazy, spending so much time with Mabel and Hal helped dull the pain significantly. They did their best to make me feel welcome in Bradford Cove. I loved working with them, but there was still that incessant itch at the bottom of my soul that told me that I craved more—that I needed more—than perhaps this place could ever offer.

  The whole reason I’d even stopped here was because Betty had broken down.

  Teary-eyed, I’d gotten on the highway in Chicago, my life clumsily crammed inside half a dozen cardboard boxes. I’d sworn up and down I was just going to drive until I couldn’t anymore. I’d flipped a coin for which direction to take and for thirteen hours I drove and drove.

  I couldn’t even say exactly where I was headed. Maybe Florida, where the ocean called to me. Maybe Texas, where I’d get my fill of wide open spaces. Mostly, I just wanted to get as far from Chicago as possible. My mom had passed away, and then everything else had fallen apart . . . there was no reason to stay. Not after what I’d been through. There was nothing good about that city anymore, and I needed out.

  Around that thirteen-hour mark, my Jeep started making funny noises. It’d always been kind of squeaky and loud, but when smoke started billowing from under the hood and I got off at the nearest exit and found myself in Bradford Cove.

  A tow truck took me to the nearest mechanic and that’s where I met Hal.

  He’d been getting the oil changed in his delivery van when I’d rolled in with my smoking Jeep.

  I could tell by the look on the mechanic’s face that he wasn’t going to have good news for me after looking under the hood. I told him flat-out that I had about four dollars in my account thanks to all the gas Betty guzzled to make it this far.

  To my shock, the mechanic told me not to worry about the cost, he’d fix up the Jeep the best he could. That lifted my spirits and had me thinking that maybe my luck was changing. But by the time he finished pinpointing all the issues with Betty, he told me she was likely totaled.

  Crushed, I begged him to try and keep her going. I’d lost too much in the past few months. I couldn’t lose my Jeep too. Sadly, Betty was all I had left in the world.

  The mechanic promised to do his best and I practically burst into tears, swearing up and down that I’d find a way to pay him back. That’s when Hal stepped in with a proposition.

  He’d rightly guessed that I was headed nowhere fast and said I should move into the little rental cottage he and his wife had in town while my Jeep got repaired. He also said it sounded like I needed a job, and he and his wife could use some young vigor around their flower shop.

  I’d accepted right away. What choice did I have? I’d been looking for a place to rest my feet for a while and I doubted I’d find a better offer anywhere.

  So the mechanic fixed my Jeep and I started working for Hal and Mabel.

  But that was nearly a year ago. I’d long since paid back the mechanic, but money was still tight and it’s not like I had anywhere better to be.

  Bradford Cove might not have been the destination I had in mind, but at least my Jeep had survived the trip. I couldn’t stand to lose her too. We’d been through a lot together. Even though she was a little rough around the edges, she kept on ticking. We were alike in that way. Maybe that was what made her so hard to part with. I saw a lot of myself in the battered old vehicle—broken, but not beyond repair.

  With a sigh, I hurled open the driver’s side door and stepped down onto the warm pavement. It was a glorious day in Bradford Cove. The sky was the perfect shade of sapphire blue, not a single cloud on the horizon. The breeze that floated by was balmy and scented with wildflowers growing in clusters against the sidewalk. If you inhaled deep enough, the briny taste of the distant ocean spray could be detected.

  This really could be a wonderful place to settle down. But I’d never been a settler.

  Even before I went careening down the highway looking for a new life, I was always the type who needed to stay busy. I didn’t like to sit still for too long, which was part of what made me feel so out of place here.

  The people of Bradford Cove were kind enough, but they all seemed to move in slow motion, more interested in sweet tea and gossip than making something of themselves. That wasn’t me. I’d always had a bustling, buzzing energy inside me that I didn’t know how to harness. I was more comfortable w
ith a coffee in my hand and my nose to the grindstone. I was a bit of a workaholic and I wasn’t sure anyone here knew what to do with me.

  But at least Mabel and Hal tried.

  I headed into the flower shop, holding the door open for a customer just leaving.

  “There you are, sugar!” Mabel greeted in her sweet southern drawl. “I was wondering if you’d got lost.”

  With a start, I checked my watch. The delivery had taken me less than an hour. With the way Hal drove it would’ve taken him two! When I looked back at Mabel she burst into laughter. “I'm sorry, Tess. You drive that tank like a bat outta hell. I had to bust your chops a little.”

  I frowned, wondering if Bradford Cove was starting to wear me down. If I stayed here any longer would I be sipping sweet tea in a rocking chair too?

  I’d learned quickly enough that it was nearly impossible for Mabel and Hal to be on time for anything. That was why they’d let me take over the deliveries lately. But maybe my ambitious attitude would never fit in at a laid back place like Bradford Cove.

  Sensing my distress, Mabel clucked her tongue. “I’m just teasing ya, sweetie pie.”

  I gave a soft laugh so she wouldn’t think she’d hurt my feelings and quickly donned my apron just as Hal wandered in from the back room.

  His face brightened when he saw me. “About time!” he greeted, joining in with the playful teasing.

  I rolled my eyes and laughed for real this time. It was hard not to love Hal and Mabel, even when they teased me. Walking over to the counter, I perched myself on the stool beside Mabel. Our earlier card game had been cleaned up, but she wore a carnation tucked behind her ear. I knew that meant she’d won. Hal always gave her a flower after we played. It was kind of sweet. Carnation for victory, lily for loss.

  The bright pink carnation made Mabel’s rosy cheeks glow. When she smiled at me like she was now, she almost reminded me of my mom. My heart gave a sudden pang. Work. I needed to work. I needed something to focus on other than everything I’d lost.

  “What’ve we got on the schedule for the rest of the day?” I asked, trying to look at the calendar that Mabel was working on.

  She cleared her throat, shooting a look at Hal as she tried to hide the papers under a stack of flower inventory forms, but I leaned over and tugged it free. There were only three more deliveries today, all late in the afternoon. That meant I’d be stuck in the flower shop wandering between lilies and daisies and trying to entertain myself for the rest of the day.

  “Sometimes we get last-minute orders,” Mabel offered hopefully, sensing my need to appease my roaming heart.

  “Maybe.” I sighed, working up a smile for the kind couple.

  I knew they did their best to keep me occupied and involved in their business, which was not something they were obligated to do.

  “Hal, I could help you prune?” I offered, perking up a little at the thought of doing something useful.

  His face drained slightly of color and he cleared his throat. “Ah, that won’t be necessary, Tess, but thank you kindly,” he replied hastily, all but tripping over his words. “You’re much better up front here dealing with the customers.”

  Ouch. You forget you’re holding shears one time and whip them around while you’re talking and suddenly you’re banned from ever holding the sharp tool again.

  I sighed and slid off the stool to inspect the flowers in the front of the shop. They were beautiful; each little blossom plump and happy. I brushed my fingers over their delicate petals and inhaled the sweet fragrance. There really was something relaxing about being amongst the plants. They were almost like people with their individual traits and needs. Some liked more water, some liked less, and some you had to give a little extra attention every now and then.

  I looked up to find Mabel watching me, her eyes warm. I returned to the counter, hoping to find some paperwork I could at least help with but there was nothing. I resigned myself to organizing the messy countertop. After a few minutes I had the place the way I liked it—orderly.

  “You done with this?” I asked Mabel, picking up the half unfurled newspaper in front of her.

  “I haven’t gotten a chance to look yet, sugar,” she answered.

  I smoothed it out in front of me, for no other reason than to have something to do. It wasn’t like anything interesting ever happened in Bradford Cove. At least not interesting enough to warrant me reading the paper. But I had to admit, the stunning couple on the front page caught my eye.

  “Someone’s getting married,” I murmured, one eyebrow twitching upward.

  A wedding announcement on the front page? That was a little ridiculous.

  “Who’s Ivy Bradford?” I asked, setting down the paper just in time to see Mabel gasp in surprise.

  She snatched the paper and skimmed over the announcement before giving a shriek of joy. “Hal! Ivy Bradford is getting hitched! And at the Bradford Estate to boot!” Mabel turned to me, her eyes glittering with excitement. “This is going to be the biggest wedding this town has seen since . . . since . . .”

  “Since Eleanor and William Bradford’s wedding,” Hal answered, eyes gleaming as if lost in a memory. “That sure was a sight.”

  Mabel’s hand flew to her heart. “Oh, Hal, remember that beautiful parade they had afterward?” She turned to me again, her eyes all misty with pride. “You shoulda seen it, Tess. Everyone in town came out for it, all dressed in their Sunday best. And the shops outdid themselves with flowers and fanfare.”

  “I'm going to go ahead and assume that these Bradfords are the Bradfords of Bradford Cove,” I interjected flatly, frankly unimpressed that they would flaunt their wedding in such an ostentatious way.

  I mean, they’d already named the town after themselves. Was that not enough?

  I’d heard the surname occasionally over the last year that I’d lived here, but I’d never connected the dots until now that their wealth was being all but rubbed in the town’s face.

  Bradford Bank, Bradford Realty, Bradford Books, Bradford Antiques . . . the list went on and on. Who were these people?

  I’d lived here for quite a long time to have never met the people behind the name.

  I looked to Mabel and Hal for answers, but they were still lost in their own little world daydreaming about all things Bradford.

  “Can you imagine what kind of flowers that sweet girl is going to have?” Mabel sighed distantly. “I bet they’ll be out of this world. I hope we’ll get to see pictures. You think they’ll run the photos in the paper afterward?”

  “Of course they will!” Hal said with a chuckle. “Don’t you remember the last Bradford wedding? They ran stories about all the details for a week straight.”

  Instantly, I perked up. “Why settle for photos when we could do their flowers?”

  My suggestion instantly earned frowns from the shop owners.

  “Oh, sugar, weddings aren’t really our thing,” Mabel replied. “And Ivy Bradford’s wedding?” She paused to fan herself with the newspaper. “It would be such a big job. It’s sure to be an elaborate event. We’re not used to doing things like that.”

  “But we could!” I argued, growing more excited. “Why not try?”

  I'd been dying for something to keep me busy. A huge gig like this would be perfect for me, not to mention the shop.

  Hal searched my face and then gently nudged his wife, giving a small nod. Mabel looked at him for a long moment and then nodded as well before looking back at me.

  “Do you really think you can do this?” Mabel asked.

  I nodded enthusiastically. “I know I can.”

  Mabel grinned. “Alright, sugar. I’ll call and set up the appointment, but it’ll be up to you to sell our services.”

  I grinned back at her, eager enthusiasm flaring in my veins. This was the sign I’d been waiting for; something to keep my hands busy and my mind off the road. “I won’t let you down,” I promised, already starting to get to my feet. “I’ll have them begging for our flowe
rs.”

  Chapter 3

  Rowan

  “Good morning, son,” my father greeted as I entered the dining room for breakfast.

  I glanced at him about to return his greeting, but noticed he was engrossed in his newspaper as usual. William Bradford was a creature of habit and a man of few words. His greeting was as automatic as his untouched plate of fruit and large mug of steaming coffee that always sat before him.

  It wasn’t that he was a cold man, but he and I had never had the easiest of times connecting. Especially after I’d shattered his dreams by turning down his offer to take over running the family business.

  Most parents would be happy to have a son who wanted to pursue medicine, but William Bradford wasn’t most people. He’d given me about a week after returning home to lick my wounds before starting in on me again. ‘I’m not getting any younger. I need someone to take the reins. Bradford Cove should be run by a Bradford. You need something to do.’

  He wouldn’t give it a rest. I should’ve expected it. I was the only one of his children who’d returned home. That made me the only available candidate to take over running not only the Bradford Estate, but the entire town’s operations—from real estate to legislation. All things I knew nothing about.

  Put me in a hospital and I come to life, but property taxes and township zoning boards? I had no business managing such things. And no desire to learn. I pretty much had no desire, period. Some days it was still a struggle just to get out of bed.

  Today was one of those days.

  I took a deep breath, preparing for my daily breakfast sparring match with my father and eased down into a chair across the table from him.

  The table was an antique, just like everything else in the house. Our family founded the town of Bradford Cove generations ago and the large estate we lived in had been passed down amongst the bloodline ever since.

  My great, great, great grandparents ate at this very table and wandered these very halls. I didn’t like to think about how many people called my room their own before it became mine. I was haunted by enough ghosts as it was.

 

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