Page 63 of Playing With The Mountain Man

“Yeah, good thing.”

“Wanna start again?” she offered.

“Can we?”

“Absolutely.” She took a breath and squared her shoulders before tightening the tie in her hair. “Good afternoon and welcome to A Burst of Color. How can I help you today?” She smiled politely, and I couldn’t help but grin. At least she was a good sport about it.

“I need some flowers. Something to say ‘Hi. I missed you. I love you,’” I explained, and her eyes widened at my words.

“Wow! These flowers need to say a lot,” she told me. “But don’t worry. I have just the thing. Can you give me ten minutes?”

“Sure.”

I watched as she moved around the store, pulling stems from various buckets. I couldn’t see how this was going to look like anything other than a mess, but I had to trust the process.

It wasn’t until she had a fistful of flowers that she turned back to me, and her jaw dropped. “Oh shoot. I should’ve asked before I got carried away.”

“What’s wrong?” I felt the panic seize me.

“I should’ve asked your budget before I assumed.” Her wide eyes were almost funny.

“You know what they say about people who assume?”

“Yep. Makes an ass out of you and me. Now, budget?” she pressed, laying the flowers on the counter.

“You’re all good. No budget,” I told her, putting her out of her misery.

“You sure?”

“Hundred percent.”

She smiled. “You’re my favorite type of customer. Won’t be long. Did you want a card?” she offered, pointing to the display.

While she snipped, trimmed, and wrapped, I scoured the cards looking for something that fit, but everything fell short. In the end, I nixed the idea. I paid for the bouquet, thanked her for her work, and carried them out to my truck.

The drive down Main Street, all five hundred feet of it, felt like it took forever. When I saw a car back out of a parking spot right at the door, I slowed up, giving them room to get out before slipping into the now vacant spot.

I sat in the car, killed the ignition, and watched through the window. The moment Tillie stepped out of the kitchen, hair falling in her face, and something splattered across her apron, my heart beat a little faster. Before I knew it my palms were sweating and I was nervous. Tillie Hooper made me nervous. I didn’t even get nervous staring down pitchers who were pegging a ball at my head at ninety miles an hour.

A lady with a stroller wobbled out the door, and Tillie waved her goodbye. Even from here, her smile was infectious.

I couldn’t wait a second longer.

I reached across the cab, grabbed the flowers, and leaped from my truck. In long strides, I was at the door and shoving my way inside. When the bells jingled, Tillie looked up. The moment her eyes locked with mine, I swear my heart stopped. Even exhausted, flustered, and rattled, she was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen, and the sooner I got to call her mine, the better.

“Cody,” she breathed my name, dropped the dirty dish rag, and came toward me.

It wasn’t until she was standing in front of me, toe to toe, that I managed to find my words. “Fuck I missed you,” I replied. I’ll admit it wasn’t the most eloquent hello, but it was the most honest.

I dropped the flowers on a table and wrapped my arms around her, hauling her against me.

“I’m all dirty,” Tillie complained.

“Don’t care. Need to hold you.” I grunted, tightening my grip.

“I smell,” she added.

“You smell like home,” I assured her.