Then Comes Love (Blue Harbor Book 6)

by Olivia Miles

  “That sounds very petty,” Gabby said flatly, and then, thinking back to her recent conversations with her cousin felt herself twitch. She pursed her mouth and sat up straighter. “I hardly believe that people end their marriages over…nuisances.”

  “Not directly, but it all has to reach a tipping point at some point. There’s a reason why the percentage of couples who can’t make it ’til death do they part is so high.”

  “I like to think that there’s someone out there for everyone,” she said, refusing to be pulled down by his cynicism.

  “So you said.” His look again told her that he wasn’t buying into it.

  “Obviously for every couple that doesn’t make it, another does.” She clung to the thought of her family members, who had weathered the tough times, laughed through the good ones. “You just have to be sure that you’re marrying the right person.”

  “And is that why you’re still single?” he countered.

  She sniffed, refusing to take it personally. “I am holding out for the right person, yes.”

  He raised an eyebrow but said nothing as he took a sip of his coffee. The silence that stretched between them made her grind back on her teeth.

  “I get the impression that you think otherwise?”

  He set his coffee mug down on the table. “I just think that most people believe they are marrying Mr. or Mrs. Right on their wedding day, when in fact, they are very sorely wrong.”

  He waved some papers in the air and he let that soak in, which she had to admit, she couldn’t find a rebuttal for, but she would in time, oh, she most definitely would.

  “And this is where I come into play. Prenuptial agreement. Every single person should have one before they say those two magic words. I do.” He grinned, and she felt her eyes narrow.

  “Tell me, what is it that has you so against the idea of everlasting love?”

  “Easy,” he said with a shrug. “It’s a fantasy.” He tapped on her book cover, which she pulled back defensively, holding it to her chest. So it might have a prince on the cover. The heroine was a commoner! “People like the fairy tale. Make an entire business out of it. The gown. The shoes. The shows. The books.” He picked up his mug again and paused. “The flowers.”

  Well, that did it. “And does this theory of yours come from personal experience or just your professional experience?”

  “Both,” he said, surprising her.

  She blinked at him, wondering what he even meant by that, and then deciding that it didn’t matter. The man was an anti-hero, no grand gestures here, no sweeping overtures, certainly no simple, thoughtful acts as small and sweet as giving a flower. And she wasn’t going to waste another minute of her precious time on him.

  The world was full of men, better looking than him, too. Those deep-set eyes? Eh. Okay, yes, appealing, but really, overrated. Yes, quite overrated, along with that devilish grin he was now giving her.

  She realized with a newfound fury that he was enjoying this!

  Composing herself as best she could, she calmly placed—well, shoved—her book into her bag, set her napkin over her brownie, and wrapped it up quickly. “I just realized that I have an appointment, so the table is all yours.”

  “Shame,” he said. “I was starting to enjoy the company.”

  She set the wrapped brownie on top of her book and looped the handles of her bag over her shoulder. “The company or the banter?”

  “Was that what it was? Either way, it was like old times.”

  There was that phrase again.

  “Yes, well, old times are often better left in the past.” She stood, eager to leave, but found herself off-kilter, not knowing exactly what to say before she finally departed from the table once and for all.

  Across the room she saw Maddie watching her over the table, giving her one of those wide-eyed stares that made it clear she was growing quickly exasperated by Gabby’s refusal to just fall in love and marry whichever random Joe came along or commented on the weather!

  No, this little debate had confirmed it. There were the right guys and there were the wrong guys, and Maddie happened to have just found a good one on her first try.

  “I’d tell you to have a nice day, but given the direction of our conversation, I assume you’ll just tell me that it’s going to be terrible, so why bother trying to enjoy it.” She sighed down at him, and after a moment of silence, he erupted into laughter. Long and loud enough for several other patrons to stop their conversations or look up from their books and turn and stare.

  Gabby caught Maddie’s eye and shook her head as she clutched her handbag and headed to the door, the sounds of Doug’s laughter still roaring in her ears.

  Yep, she thought, just like old times. And just like their high school days, she wasn’t about to back down easily. Doug Monroe had met his match!

  Chapter Five

  Saturdays meant weddings, and this one was just as lovely as the last, Gabby thought. If not more so, because it was set right on the sandy beachfront, evoking a perfectly summery, casual vibe that made Gabby want to kick off her shoes and wiggle her toes—if she didn’t have work to do.

  The bride had asked for simple bouquets, and Gabby was always happy to accept that challenge. Sure, it was easy to get swept away and let the flowers be not only the center of the tables, but the center of attention as well, with grand arrangements in large scales, or covering every square inch of surface. She’d seen plenty of this in the magazines she subscribed to each month, and she’d also followed through on several bride’s wishes for just such thing. But there was so much to be said for letting the natural beauty of the flowers’ colors and textures speak for themselves.

  Now, as Gabby took her seat at the singles table, sighing deeply after a long day on her feet, she was quite pleased to see that the mixed arrangement felt fresh and light and added a boost of color to the otherwise all-white décor.

  She swept her eyes over the rest of the tables, smiling at the way everything had come together, from the warm day to the soft lake breeze, to the quintessential feeling of summer in Blue Harbor, but her smile immediately slipped when she saw Doug Monroe standing near the bar that had been set up near the band, a glass of red wine in one hand, looking about as lost as she currently felt.

  What was Doug doing here? Her mind swam as she considered her options, her eyes darting to the place cards on either side of her, happy to see that the names were of men she’d never heard of before, probably cousins or friends from out of town. Single men. Eligible men. She sat up a little straighter and smoothed a palm over her low ponytail, wondering if she could discreetly add some gloss to her lips without anyone noticing.

  Too late. She watched in growing dismay as Doug’s eyebrows shot up and, with dread, he began walking in her direction.

  “We meet again,” he said, dropping into the seat beside her. “Let me guess. All these flowers were your doing?”

  She pursed her lips. “My creation, yes.”

  “You must go to a lot of weddings,” he observed.

  “I do,” she said, nodding. “And I suppose you go to a lot of hearings.”

  “When business is booming,” he said, taking a sip of wine.

  “You mean when people’s lives are unraveling?” She tsked. “It doesn’t tire you to benefit from the misfortune of others?”

  “I consider myself to be a helping hand. Someone to support them and their interests when they need it the most.” His mouth tipped into a grin. “You could say we help each other out. You help people get married. And I help them get…unmarried.”

  The hood of her eyes drooped. “I think I need a glass of wine,” she said, standing. Only hers would be white wine because red wine at weddings made her twitch. Already she spotted a stain on the tablecloth at the next table over. “And just so you know, there’s no sense in trying to claim that seat as your own or switching the name cards. I know who is supposed to be seated to my left and my right.”

  “You know them then?”
He shuffled some cards around. Gabby noted that he was now seated beside his brother.

  She couldn’t completely fight off her hopeful smile. “Not yet. But…I’m looking forward to knowing them.”

  He nodded sagely. “Of course. I suppose if you believe in love and happy endings and all that stuff, then you are also optimistic enough to think that every single eligible person you meet could be the one.”

  “Not every single person,” she said pointedly. “But yes, I do believe in all that…stuff.”

  With that, she turned and made her way to the bar, cursing under her breath as she did so, wishing that at least one of her sisters or friends from school had been invited, but the bride and groom were a fair bit younger, and the bride was relatively unknown to anyone but her, seeing as the groom had been the one to grow up in town.

  And down the street from the Monroe family, she thought, rolling her eyes skyward. She should have known better.

  Sure enough, Carol waved to her eagerly from across the crowd. The poor woman; she had pinned her sights on the wrong woman, and Gabby hated the thought of letting her down. She took her time at the bar, sipping her crisp white wine and waiting for the crowd to thin and most guests to take their seats before she made her way back to the table, hope swelling in her chest when she saw her empty chair and the backs of two male heads on either side, one fair, one medium brown.

  Doug caught her eye from across the table as she approached, seeming to hide a smile she couldn’t quite make sense of, until she slowly pulled out her chair, and found herself sitting next to a teenage boy.

  Well, maybe he was more like twelve.

  “Hi!” He grinned to reveal a mouth of metal braces, complete with food wedged in a few brackets.

  She swallowed hard. Managed a nod. “Hello.”

  She licked her bottom lip, refusing to make eye contact with Doug, and oh so subtly glanced to her right, her heart skipping a beat when she caught the handsome profile of a man of the appropriate age. Nut-brown hair, strong jaw, and a lovely, warm smile when he turned to introduce himself.

  “Guess we’re stuck with each other for the night,” he said, and oh, those dark eyes positively twinkled as he extended a hand. “Jeremy Smith.”

  She felt herself melt into the warmth of his skin. “Gabrielle Conway.”

  She could have sworn she heard a snort from across the table, but she decided to ignore it. She had better things to focus on just now.

  “And what do you do, Gabrielle?”

  Oh, her name just rolled off his lips. Smooth and deep, she could get used to a voice like that.

  “I own a flower shop here in town,” she said, feeling her spirits rise as they did every time she mentioned her business. “Sweet Stems?”

  “Oh, now, don’t be humble, Gabby!” Doug’s voice seemed to boom across the table.

  She narrowed her eyes at him, even though the smile never left her lips. Was he really going to taunt her, now, when she finally had an eligible man giving her a little attention? Last she checked, they weren’t in high school anymore, even if he was determined to act as if they were.

  Ignoring her glare, he said to Jeremy. “Gabby did all the flowers for this wedding.”

  Jeremy raised an eyebrow. “Really? This is very impressive. I’ve always marveled at anyone with a creative mind. It’s a talent I’m afraid I’ve never had.”

  She resisted the urge to slant a glance at Doug, but she did lift her chin a notch. “Thank you,” she said warmly. “And what do you do?”

  “Pediatric oncology,” he said flatly.

  She managed not to gasp. Handsome, noble, and smart? Every box on that mental checklist was being ticked. This was turning out to be the perfect night—that was if Doug wasn’t continuing to watch their exchange as if he had a front-row seat to the latest Hollywood blockbuster.

  The waiters came around with their first course—a summer salad made with locally grown tomatoes and herbs—but Gabby had more important things on her mind than food.

  She had never seen this man before, and this was a wedding. She couldn’t rule out the possibility that he lived far away, nixing her hopes. With a silent prayer, she decided to confront the only obstacle that might eliminate the chances of this being the man of her dreams. Her soulmate. Her perfect match.

  “I haven’t seen you around Blue Harbor before,” she said conversationally. When he met her eyes with a slow grin, she somehow managed not to bat her eyelashes. “Are you in town just for the wedding?”

  Here it came. She almost couldn’t breathe, so great was her anticipation.

  “The hospital is about two hours from here, but we have a weekend place in Pine Falls.”

  Pine Falls was the next town over, but this didn’t bring any relief to Gabby. We? What exactly did he mean by that? With her last thread of hope, she wondered if he was referring to his parents—a family vacation home perhaps, but she knew she was grasping. She scanned his face, wondering what she had missed.

  “I’m afraid my wife is on bed rest so she couldn’t make it tonight.”

  Now there was a coughing sound from across the table, followed by wheezing. No doubt Doug was trying to smother his laughter.

  “I was telling the table here before you arrived.” Jeremy smiled until his eyes crinkled. “We just found out we’re having twins.”

  Twins. Somehow, she managed a thin smile and a grunt of congratulations before reaching for her wineglass and taking a long sip. Over the rim, she caught Doug’s grin flashing wickedly and narrowed her gaze. She could nearly hear a “told ya so” coming on. No doubt he’d find a way to slip it into a conversation before the night was through.

  With a heavy heart, Gabby picked up her outermost fork and listlessly poked at her salad, hating the tears that had started to burn the back of her eyes and hoping that they would clear before she was forced to look up again. She positioned herself in her chair so she was slightly facing the boy instead, but he just gave her a hopeful look and then went all red in the face. Good grief. She sensed a shuffling beside her, a murmured conversation. Maybe the handsome doctor needed to take a call. She’d do almost anything for him to be gone when she looked up.

  Finally, when she’d composed herself, she dared to check, startled to see that her wish had come true. Technically. Gone was Mr. Right and in his place was…Mr. Wrong.

  “What are you doing here?” She glanced at Doug and then to his former place across the table, where the hot yet married man was already engaged in a conversation with the bride’s younger cousin about name ideas for his twins. Two boys. Imagine that.

  “Saving you,” Doug said simply.

  More like coming to gloat! She pinched her mouth together from saying that very thing, reminding herself that she was technically still the florist, the bride was a client, and she would be best to keep her temper under control.

  Doug just sniffed as if nothing was amiss, averting eye contact as he placed a crusty sourdough roll on his plate and proffered the basket to her with an extremely wide grin that seemed close to eruption. “Bread?”

  Her eyes blazed when she thought of the audacity, the nerve, the presumption! Thinking that she needed saving! “I…I…” She couldn’t even think, so great was her anger at the merriment in his eyes, at the way this entire evening was turning out. She’d dared to hope. Dared to believe. And now she was left sharing another Saturday night with Doug, who knew exactly which buttons to push to tap into her innermost insecurities. “Oh, fine.”

  She grabbed a roll from the basket and then, because carbs were so comforting, another.

  She didn’t have to ask before Doug slid her the butter dish, and she furiously added pad after pad to her roll, because what did it matter if she put on a pound or two or ten? No men loved her, and all the good ones were taken.

  And for the second weekend in a row, she was sitting next to her nemesis, because no matter what she did, she just couldn’t seem to be able to shake him.

  Doug watched a
s Gabby polished off one sourdough roll, then another, and then, after checking the breadbasket and noticing it was nearly empty, he caught her eye.

  “Go on,” he encouraged.

  “Thanks,” she muttered, helping herself to the last of it.

  He considered himself to be an astute observer of human behavior, though perhaps he had overestimated his skill set. Considering that he was just as thrown by Lisa cutting off their engagement as he was baffled by Gabby’s funk right now, he might still have a lot of learning to do.

  Curious, he finished his first course and waited until the main course had been served before turning to Gabby. “I don’t think frowns are good luck at a wedding.”

  It was meant to be banter, but she didn’t even bother to argue. He took a sip of his wine, realizing that something must seriously be wrong.

  “Is this because of that guy?” he asked in a low enough voice that he knew they couldn’t be overheard. The conversation was lively, and voices were rising as drinks were flowing.

  “This guy, that guy, all guys.” Gabby narrowed her eyes as she tore into the last roll with her teeth. She chewed angrily and then picked up her fork, making short work of the potatoes.

  He watched in amusement as she ate her way through the plate, finishing it clean before he was barely halfway done with his fish.

  “Well, I think you’re giving this guy far too much credit, if you ask me,” he said, glancing at her sidelong. When she didn’t argue he pointed out, “I mean, yeah, so he’s tall and has dark hair and money and saves kids’ lives. If you’re into that kind of thing.”

  Now he got a smile out of her, wan though it may be, and he grinned in return, happy to see a glimmer of the old Gabby returning and realizing that he had missed the spark in her that seemed to have gone away, however briefly.

  “Sometimes it wears on me,” she said. “Going to these weddings, helping to plan the flowers, making every other woman’s day special. Is it too much to ask for a special day like that for me?”

  “Oh, all my clients once had their day,” Doug replied. “Remember that. They’re probably more miserable than you are right now; in fact, for most of them, I’m sure of it. Besides, I’d like to think that it’s better to be alone than with the wrong person.”