Page 78 of Saltwater Cowboy

The men chuckled, but Mr. Grady wasn’t backing down. “I remember just fine. And I’d be happy to refresh my skills if this lovely lady here would grant me the honor.” He held out a shaky hand, his grin full of mischief.

Rose played along, placing her fingers lightly over his. “I have a feeling you’ll put me to shame.”

Mr. James shook his head, looking to me. “Boy, you better hold onto this one. She’s got charm and a good sense of humor—rare qualities these days.”

Rose glanced at me, her cheeks slightly pink, but her smile was wide and genuine.

I smirked, shaking my head. “Y’all are gonna scare her off.”

“Oh, nonsense,” Mrs. Lillian said with a wave of her hand. “If she was scared, she wouldn’t be smiling like that.”

And she was. A real, unguarded smile that made something deep in my chest tighten.

Rose turned back to Mr. Grady. “You know, I think you just made my whole day.”

“Well, sweetheart,” he said, patting her hand, “you just made mine.”

She squeezed his hand gently before stepping back toward me. “I like them,” she murmured, her voice soft but sure.

I caught her gaze, and for the first time, I knew—she wasn’t just saying it to be polite.

I nudged the flower box toward her. “Then let’s go make some more people’s day, yeah?”

She grinned, linking her arm through mine just for a second before reaching for a bouquet.

At the far end of the room, an older couple sat side by side on a floral loveseat, their hands intertwined as if they’d been holding on for decades and had no intention of letting go.

“Now there’s my favorite lovebirds,” I said, grabbing a bouquet and walking over. “How are we today, Mr. and Mrs. Turner?”

Mrs. Turner, a petite woman with soft white curls, beamed up at me. “Oh, we’re just peachy, sweetheart. But I have to say, these afternoons are much more exciting when you visit.”

Mr. Turner gave a slow nod, a twinkle of humor in his eyes. “She went and fixed her hair when she saw your truck pull up.”

“Oh, hush, Harold,” Mrs. Turner swatted his arm, but her cheeks flushed pink. “You’re embarrassing me.”

Rose chuckled as she stepped beside me, her gaze drifting to their still-clasped hands. “How long have you been married?”

Mr. Turner straightened with pride. “Sixty-three years and counting.”

Rose’s eyes widened. “Sixty-three? That’s incredible. What’s your secret?”

Mrs. Turner smiled warmly. “Oh, darling, there’s no secret. Just choose someone you like as much as you love. Makes all the hard days a little easier.”

Mr. Turner leaned forward, his voice dropping to a playful whisper. “And make sure they let you have the last bite of dessert every once in a while.”

Mrs. Turner gasped. “Harold Turner, you rascal! I let you have the last bite all the time.”

He winked. “That’s why I married you, honey.”

Rose let out a soft laugh, and I could tell she was completely charmed.

I handed Mrs. Turner the bouquet, but she surprised me by taking Rose’s hand instead. “Now, sweetheart, you hold onto this one.” She tilted her head toward me. “Good men are hard to come by.”

Rose opened her mouth as if to respond, then shut it again, her fingers tightening just slightly in Mrs. Turner’s grasp before she pulled back with a small, hesitant smile. “Isn’t that the truth.”

Mrs. Turner’s sharp eyes studied her for a beat before she pursed her lips. “Those are the words of a woman with a broken heart.” She turned to me, arching a brow. “Now, what exactly did you do to this sweet girl?”

I held up my hands. “Don’t look at me. She was already mad when she got here.”