“A few years ago, but some days it seems like yesterday.”
He got that. Though he knew it would happen one day, he’d be lost without Gran. He was thankful every day she was still kicking. And she would be for many years to come if she’d just agree to sell the shop and let him take care of her.
“Um, August?”
“Yeah?”
“I think the aloe’s all rubbed in now.”
He glanced down to see himself holding Mo’s hand, no longer applying a medicinal salve but caressing her wrist with the pad of his thumb, rubbing back and forth the way one might do to comfort a lover. Embarrassed and horrified, he quickly snatched his hand back.
“Yeah, um.” He cleared his throat. “Well, I hope that made it feel better.”
“It did, thank you,” Mo said, her lips pressing together, a gleeful mirth filling her face.
At least one of them could find humor in their odd situation. August went back and forth between uncomfortable tension and reluctant acceptance on a daily basis.
Trying to diffuse the unintentional physical familiarity, he grabbed another cookie. “These really are amazing, thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” She winced slightly, nose wrinkling as she admitted, “And as I said, they’re apology cookies. I’m sorry I forced you out last night. Clearly my Mo-dar needs a little tweaking, so if you’re up for it, I’d like to take you out again and show you a part of the city I feel pretty sure you’re going to love.”
He grunted, finishing the cookie he shoved in his mouth and grabbing for another. Perfect, and now the thought of another Mo’s night on the town had him stress eating. “I doubt that’s possible.”
Mo grabbed the rack of cookies before August could snatch one.
“Hey.”
“No going out, no cookies.”
He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “I thought you said they were apology cookies?”
“They are.” Mo lifted one shoulder in a small shrug. “They’re also bribery cookies.”
Was she serious? He really didn’t want to go out again, but he also really wanted another cookie.
Knowing she wasn’t the type of person to take no for an answer—considering he tried that last night and look where it had gotten him—he pointed a finger. “No greasy food, no noisy bars, and no trying to hook me up with anyone.”
“Cross my heart.” She grinned, making a crossing motion with her finger over her heart. “We don’t have to eat out. It’s an outdoor venue that I think will be right up your alley. And trust me, no one there is looking to get laid.”
Now he was slightly intrigued. Slightly.
“Where are we going?”
“Naw uh.” She waved a finger at him. “It’s a surprise.”
“I hate surprises.”
“I love them.”
Of course she did.
“Now, here are your cookies. You go read your boring flower book and enjoy them while I clean up this mess.”
He would argue with her on the boring book thing, but her suggestion sounded pretty nice. Still, “You want help cleaning up?”
“No, thanks, I got it.”
“You sure?”
“Yes, August.” Her head tilted as she stared at him. “What are you afraid of? That I’m going to shove all the dishes in the dishwasher whether they’re dishwasher safe or not?”
Yes. That’s exactly what he was afraid of. They weren’t his dishes, but he hated to see any kitchen equipment ruined due to poor cleaning skills.
“Believe it or not, I have been cleaning this apartment for years before you came along.”
“I don’t,” he mumbled. Not judging by the state of this place the day he’d arrived.
Mo smacked him lightly on the shoulder with her good hand. “You. Eat. I will clean, and I promise this place will be so spotless when I’m done, you could eat off the floor.”
That was a bet he would never be taking, but then again, he also never would have bet on becoming friends with his whimsical roommate, and after tonight, it looked like that just might become a real possibility.
Chapter Eight
Three days later, August had Mo in the car because the silly man refused to let her drive. Again, her driving wasn’t that bad. He was following her directions, heading toward the surprise destination. She knew he’d like this outing because she thought long and hard about what August would like. He’d almost smiled at the farmers market, so she tried to think of what else in the city would coax that half smile out of him. Once she thought of it, the answer was so obvious she almost smacked herself upside the head.
Of course an introvert who preferred plants to people would hate going out on the town. Why had she ever thought he’d enjoy that? August needed something more mellow, something outdoorsy, like the farmers market. Even though they were in the heart of the city, this was still Colorado. Outdoorsy was a staple in the Centennial state. Denver had dozens of parks and dog runs, and even the Cherry Creek and South Platte rivers ran through town.
It was a perfect city for a person who enjoyed the great outdoors, and she planned to prove that to August today. And it started right now.
He pulled the car into the car park across the street from today’s venture.
“Denver Botanic Gardens,” August read the sign as they entered the garage.
Mo smiled at the surprise in his voice, keeping her eyes peeled for a spot. The Gardens were popular, and the garage wasn’t big enough to accommodate everyone. Luckily, she found a spot in the far back and pointed it out to him.
“Yup,” she said as he put the car in park and turned off the engine. “Surprised?”
“Pleasantly.”
She placed a hand over her heart dramatically. “Ow, your lack of faith in me cuts deep, Gus Gus.”
“No,” he stated, getting out of the car and heading toward the stairs.
Mo followed suit, hurrying after him. “Oh, come on, I dropped the ‘grumpy’ part.”
He stopped in his tracks, turning to scowl at her. “What ‘grumpy’ part?”
Oops! She pasted an innocent expression on her face, smiling up at him. “Huh?”
He stared for another minute before sighing and rolling his eyes upward. She let out a breath of relief. It wouldn’t be good to start their Redo Roomie Friendship Day off on the wrong foot.
They headed out of the parking garage and crossed the street to enter the guest services/gift shop building. The vast and beautifully manicured gardens lay beyond. She really hoped August liked them. Their last adventure had been such a disaster, and truthfully, Mo was disappointed in herself for showing August such a bad time. Hopefully, today made up for it.
“Two adult admissions, please.” She smiled at the friendly woman working the ticket counter, handing over her credit card when the total was announced.
“I can pay for myself, Moira.”
The cashier sighed, as if she was used to people fighting over covering the entrance cost.
“No need. It’s my treat. As a welcome to the city present.”
He shifted his feet, clearly uncomfortable with her buying his ticket. Was it the idea of someone paying for him or her specifically? Didn’t matter. The card had been swiped and the deed was done.
“You can grab us dinner if that will make you feel better,” she offered. Mo was never one to turn down a free meal. Although she might not enjoy dinner as much if she let August pick the restaurant. He’d probably go for some salad place that didn’t even know what cheese was.
August accepted, allowing her generosity only—she suspected—because she offered a return situation. Guy doesn’t like people taking care of him. Noted. She was learning more about him by the minute. See, this day was already a success.
They stepped out of the building into the open-air
gardens, and Mo heard August suck in a sharp breath. She snuck a glance at him and got the shock of her life. August Porter, Grumpy Gus Gus, was staring in awe at the vast array of plants, flowers, and vegetation before him. But that wasn’t what shocked her. She knew he’d like it, hoped he’d be a bit blown away. What knocked her on her figurative ass was the huge smile curling his lips.
Holy cow!
The man was hot, even when he scowled. Broody some might call it. Sexy if you went for that kind of thing, which Mo did not. But when he smiled, actually full on smiled like a kid on their birthday spotting all their presents, the way August was doing now, the man transformed into a redheaded, panty-melting sex god she would gladly worship with every inch of her body.
And there she went having inappropriate sexual thoughts about her roomie again. She really needed to stop that. But who could blame her when the man smiled like that? He even had…was she seeing this right? Did August have dimples? Oh hell, he did. Dimples. Her downfall. Maybe it was a good thing he was always so grumpy. If he brought out those cheek indents more often, she might throw her better judgment to the wind and jump him.
“I don’t believe it! Is that an actual smile on your face?” she teased.
August immediately frowned. She laughed, relieved and secretly disappointed to lose the view of that magnificent smile.
“There’s five different garden zones and a conservatory that holds tropical plants,” Mo said, reading from the map the customer service woman had given her. “And right now, the marigolds are in bloom, so we should definitely check that out, too.”
“This place is huge.” August shook his head, eyes still wide, taking everything in with a childlike wonder.
“Twenty-four acres of western and internationally inspired plant life right in the heart of the city.” She bobbed her eyebrows. “Can you believe it?”
He ignored her teasing and headed down the path toward the marigolds. Their pungent, musky, but oddly pleasant smell wrapped itself around her before they’d even gotten close to the flowers. She’d been to the gardens a few times before. Mostly for weddings. It was pricy to get married here, but Mile High Happiness had a few bigger clients over the years who’d picked the beauty of the Botanic Gardens for their nuptials.
Honestly, it’s where Mo would choose to get married if she had the option. The beauty of the flowers, the water gardens, the trees lining the walls made the whole place feel like a magical fairy kingdom in the middle of the city. She could see herself wearing a flowing gown, a flower crown in her hair as she walked toward…
The groom part was the only part she couldn’t picture.
Mo firmly believed that everyone had a soul mate. Someone to share in their happily ever after. But she had yet to find that person. Not for lack of trying. She liked to date. Meeting and learning about new people was always fun, but she hadn’t felt that…spark with anyone yet. Sexual chemistry, sure. There’d been a few she really hit it off with, but after a while, chemistry faded without anything solid to back it up.
Love.
Love had to back it up, and Mo had never been in love. But she believed down to the very bottom of her soul that she’d find it one day. She just had to keep looking.
They wandered through the gardens, enjoying the beautiful day. August stopped at every plant. He explained to her what each flora and fauna meant, giving her a much more in-depth explanation than any of the posted signs ever had. He’d hate her for saying it, but it was adorable how excited the man was about flowers. He appeared absolutely giddy every new garden section they entered.
“Okay, I have to give it to you, Moira.” August smiled at her. “This was a great idea. I can’t believe they can cultivate so many different species in one place. Especially in the city.”
She silently patted herself on the back, loving the way his face lit up like a kid on Christmas with each new path they took.
“Is that an aquilegia chrysantha? I’ve never seen them bloom this late in the season before.” He bent down close to the yellow flower, his grin a mile wide as he inspected the plant. “These little beauties do great in arid climates, but we never grew them on the farm because they’re not that popular in arrangements. Shame, really. Beautiful flower.”
She laughed, following him over to another section of the gardens. Mo listened with rapt attention as August explained not only the biology of the flowers and plants, but the meaning behind them as well.
“Oh, look.” He pointed to a cluster type looking flower with tiny white bunches of petals. “Achillea millefolium.”
She wrinkled her nose at the name. “Whaty what what?”
Gracing her with one of his devastatingly dimpled smiles, he explained, “Colorado yarrow. It was named after Achilles who used the genus of these plants to help staunch the wounds of his fellow soldiers at the siege of Troy.”
“You sure know a lot about flowers.” It was pretty darn adorable.
They made their way to the back of the massive acreage, walking along the curve of the Monet pool in the water gardens. Various types of lily pads and water lilies floated atop of the glassy surface of the manmade pond. According to August, the lilies were dormant right now, but Mo thought they were beautiful as is.
“Gran gave me my first book about flowers when I was ten, and I’ve been fascinated with them ever since.”
“Did you go to college? Wait.” She paused, tilting her head. “Do they have college degrees in plants?”
August chuckled, coming to a stop by her side. “They do. It’s called horticulture or floriculture if you want to study flowers specifically, but no, I didn’t go to college. When I graduated high school, I started working at the local flower farms. Mostly seasonal stuff, until I worked my way up to manager of the second biggest flower farm near Telluride.”
“Wow, impressive.”
“Thanks.” His gaze roamed over the gardens, a determined glint in his eyes. “I plan to grow my own flowers someday. Get a plot of land and start my own farm.”
Ambitious. She knew firsthand how hard it was to start a business. The first two years of Mile High Happiness had been very lean for her and her friends. They scraped by, working to the bone to build the steady and thriving business they had today. She had no doubts August had the same grit and gusto to make his dream a reality.
“So,” she said, taking a seat on the bench by the water. “Are you looking for a spot of land in the city? Because I know some real estate agents who are aces at finding exactly what people need.”
“I’m not staying in Denver.”
“What?” She popped up. “What do you mean you’re not staying in Denver?”
August looked at her like she was two cans short of a six-pack. “You can’t grow flowers in the city, Moira.”
She spread an arm wide around them. “Clearly you can.”
“This is different. It’s a tourist spot.”
“It’s a nonprofit,” she argued.
He sighed, the way one did when dealing with a very difficult toddler. She didn’t appreciate the correlation.
“I thought you came here to help Agatha run the shop.” And pay half of her rent for the next six months, hopefully longer. Finding a good roommate was tricky, and though he was a big ol’ grump, August was a pretty good roommate. She didn’t want to scour the Internet for non-creepos just to afford her place. She liked her place. She didn’t want to move into a tiny studio apartment.
And what if some tap dancers moved into the apartment? It was right above their office. They couldn’t have client meetings to the thunderous sounds of Lord of the Dance!
Okay, she might be exaggerating a little, but there was still some truth to her worry. The great thing about living above the Mile High Happiness office was the guarantee of silence during the work day. And the great commute. As a night owl, Mo hated the mornings. She needed that one flight of
stairs commute so she could sleep in.
“I came here to help Gran sell the shop.”
Distress hit her like an icy cold blast straight to the chest. “Agatha’s selling?”
“No. Not yet. But it’s for the best.”
His best, maybe, but not his grandmother’s. Agatha loved her shop; she loved brightening people’s days with her beautiful flower arrangements.
“What will she do if she doesn’t have her shop?” She couldn’t imagine Agatha sitting in a rocking chair all day staring at the TV. The woman might be in her seventies, but she was still very active. Though lately she had been slowing down. Which was why Mo had been happy she was finally getting help at the shop, but she had no idea August planned to convince Agatha to sell.
“I’m buying a spot of land for the flower farm, and once she sells, Gran can come live by me. Enjoy her golden years without having to worry about getting up at six in the morning to arrange flowers for bridezillas and men who forgot their anniversaries.”
He wanted Agatha to move away with him? Mo struggled to catch her breath at the revelation. She loved having the old woman a cab ride away in case she needed a good laugh, a wise ear to talk to, or just a comforting hug. Agatha couldn’t leave her. It’d be like losing Nonna all over again. He couldn’t do this to her. He couldn’t take away Agatha.
“But…but…Agatha loves her shop. She loves making beautiful flowers to brighten people’s day. Have you talked to her about this?”
He shifted on his feet. “I have.”
From his tense jaw, Mo knew, just knew, Agatha didn’t like her grandson’s plan. Plus, the old woman would have told her about something so huge and life changing. Right?
“So she’s…”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “She’s considering it, but she would rather I stay and take over the shop.”
She let out a breath of relief. “That would be nice, and you could still have a small flower farm in the city, too.”
A nice compromise. It worked in everyone’s favor, and Agatha didn’t have to move.
The Roommate Problem Page 7