Chapter 11: Chapter 10

Easing onto the stool behind the register, I laid the egg sandwich on the counter. Dog looked up at me with pleading eyes. I’d had him for a week, and he still didn’t have a name. Nothing quite seemed to fit, and he deserved the right one.

I’d been working on his training, though. I’d found one of those clickers Anson had mentioned at our local feed and pet store. Looking up the training methodology, I’d found loads of stuff. And even better, it worked.

Every now and then, I caught Anson watching our training sessions from afar. But he never came over. Never said a word to me. And if I ventured over into crew territory, he conveniently disappeared.

Seemed he’d been honest when he said he did dogs but not people.

I leaned down to scratch Dog’s head. He had quite the setup at Bloom. A dog bed behind the counter with a bowl of water, a handful of toys, and a cozy blanket. I was damn lucky I had a boss who let me bring my fosters to work.

Unwrapping the sandwich, I took a huge bite of the flaky biscuit, egg, and sharp cheddar and nearly moaned. Thank the food gods for our onsite café. I’d started earlier today because we’d received a delivery of new shrubs just as we closed last night.

My phone dinged, and I glanced down at the screen. Our sibling group chat had another new name. The 7 Deadly Sibs.

I snorted as I picked up the device.

COPE

Who sent the basket of peaches to the practice arena?

I bit my lip to keep from laughing.

ME

Want me to send you Nora’s cobbler recipe?

FALLON

I’ve got a jam recipe you could use.

COPE

You’re all assholes. I almost puked on the receptionist when she gave it to me.

KYE

Nothing like a little puke to charm the ladies. Didn’t you see the card?

COPE

You little shit. Payback is coming.

A second later, a photo appeared in the text chain. The stationery had the fruit embossed on the top. For our Little Peach. Don’t bruise too easy in tonight’s game.

I choked on my laugh as I set the phone back down. There was nothing like a little sibling shit-talking to make sure your ego stayed in check. And with all the attention Cope got, that wasn’t a bad thing.

I shook my head and arched my back, feeling a twinge in the muscles there. I might’ve overdone it just a bit. But it was nothing two ibuprofen and a long, hot bath wouldn’t cure.

A flicker of movement caught my attention as a familiar figure moved quietly through the rows of plants and toward the counter. Everything about the woman screamed Don’t look at me! Her clothes were all in neutrals—jeans and a beige T-shirt. Her hair, while thick and shiny, was usually pulled back into a braid to hide its luster. She moved quickly but silently as if practiced in making no sound at all.

I sent her a wide grin. “Morning, Thea.”

Her answering smile was more hesitant, a bit unsteady. Or maybe she was just rusty. “Morning.”

“What are you after today?” I asked.

She worried the corner of her lip and glanced over her shoulder. “I wondered if you had any peonies that might be hitting the sale aisle soon.”

An ache took root somewhere deep. Thea was a plant lover like me, but Bloom’s offerings were on the pricier side. Because we stocked quality. Duncan’s markup was fair. Just enough to guarantee a healthy bottom line but not enough to price gouge customers. But if you were watching your wallet, making constant purchases from our store would be hard.

I didn’t know much about Thea. She kept any chatting purely surface-level and centered on the plants. I sensed that I’d only send her running if I pushed too hard. But I knew she worked at our local bakery, The Mix Up, she lived somewhere outside of town, and she loved all plants, from the ones you ate to those that simply brightened your day.

Drumming my fingers on the counter, I nodded. “I think we’ve got a few that are about to tip over into sale territory. Let’s go take a look.”

It was a lie. Peonies were one of the few things that never landed in our sale rows unless they were on death’s door, but I’d just cover the difference. I slid off my stool, giving Dog a quick pat on the head. “Be good.”

His tongue lolled to one side.

Thea peered over the counter, and her face lit up. “New one?”

I nodded. “Still working on a name.”

Longing swept into her expression. “The right one will find him.”

“That’s what I keep saying, but my gran is giving me crap for not having something to call him.”

A soft smile tipped her lips. “As long as he’s loved, that’s what matters.”

“So true.” I glanced over at Thea. “What are you working on?” It was the one thing I could ask that wouldn’t get Thea’s back up.

Her smile widened. “The beds under my bedroom window. Thought it might be nice to look out and see a sea of peonies.”

“Sounds like heaven to me. Any colors in particular?”

“I’ll settle for whatever you have, but I was thinking that peachy pink if it’s available.”

“Let’s see.” I scanned the rows of blossoms until I settled on a section of that color just shy of full bloom. “Perfect! Duncan will be moving these over today or tomorrow. I can give you the sale discount now.”

Thea’s teeth tugged on the corner of her lip as she studied the flowers. “Are you sure? They still look pretty prime to me.”

“Not compared to the others,” I said, gesturing to the rest of the row. Most of them only had a flower or two blooming; the rest were still buds.

Thea was quiet for a moment before finally shaking her head. “It’s okay. I’ll just wait until they’re actually on sale.”

I almost let my curse slip free instead of just letting it loose in my head. “Really⁠—”

She cut me off with another shake. “It’s really kind of you, but I don’t want you to break the rules for me.”

I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from arguing with her. Beautiful flowers were such a simple pleasure. The kind of thing everyone deserved. And it bothered me that Thea wouldn’t have them. I studied her for a moment. “Are you full time at the bakery?”

Confusion swept across her face. “No, still part time, but I get decent hours, and Sutton’s hoping to expand soon.”

I didn’t know much about the new bakery owner other than she had a huge smile for everyone and the most adorable son I’d ever seen. But from all the changes I’d seen her implement, it was clear she had a sharp business mind and good instincts.

My fingers tapped against the side of my thigh. “Would you ever want to work part time here, too? I know it doesn’t give you the kind of benefits you would get from being full time somewhere, but we always bring on a few extra hands for the summer. And you’d get the employee discount on everything we have here.”

Thea’s lips parted on a silent inhale. “You guys are really hiring?”

“Check the local paper. I think Duncan’s ad runs on Wednesday. But I can give you an application now.”

She rolled to the balls of her feet, almost bouncing. It was the most excitement I’d seen from Thea since I’d met her nearly two years ago. “Do you know what the pay is?”

I nodded with a smile. “Starts at twenty an hour plus overtime. And the discount is forty percent.”

This time, Thea’s jaw went slack. “Forty percent off everything?”

I grinned. “Pretty sweet, huh? Duncan likes his staff to be knowledgeable about what they’re selling. The discount is his way of encouraging that.”

Thea’s eyes went a little glassy. “I’d work for free for that discount.”

I chuckled. “Well, you don’t have to. Come on. I’ll get you the application.”

She followed me into the greenhouse and toward the counter. As we got closer, my steps faltered. Something about the counter was different.

“You didn’t,” I muttered.

“What’s wrong?” Thea asked, concerned.

I instantly hurried around the counter to find my egg sandwich wrapper on the ground and a pup licking his lips. “Dog!”

He instantly laid his head down between his paws.

“Don’t look all ashamed and make me feel bad for you. You ate my breakfast.”

A soft giggle sounded behind me as Thea surveyed the scene. “Maybe you should name him Biscuit. He’s obviously got a taste for them.”

Dog’s head lifted at that, ears twitching.

I couldn’t help my laugh. “I think he likes it. You want to be called Biscuit?”

He barked in answer.

“Either that or he wants another one,” Thea said.

I shook my head. “He’s probably going to be sick as it is.”

She winced. “Not a fun cleanup.”

“No kidding.” I pulled open the filing cabinet drawer and found the folder for our applications. Grabbing one and a pen, I handed them to Thea. It was only a single sheet with some basic information and a section for experience and why you wanted to work at Bloom, but Thea scrutinized it as if it were the SATs.

She swallowed hard as she rolled the pen between her fingers. “Do you think…I mean, would it be possible for Duncan to pay me in cash?”

I studied Thea for a long moment. It wasn’t that we never got the request, but it was usually because someone didn’t have a green card. As long as the person was a hard worker, Duncan found his way around those cases, paying them out of the till each week. But I didn’t think that was the case for Thea. So, why did she need things done that way? She didn’t seem the type to try for tax evasion.

“Duncan’s usually pretty good about working with those kinds of requests,” I said finally.

Thea’s grip on the pen loosened a fraction, and she began scrawling her information across the page. “Great. Thank you.”

In less than five minutes, she was done and handing it back. I quickly scanned the sheet. Her phone number, email, and address were blank. Between that and the cash request, my stomach started to twist.

“We just need a phone number or email so we can contact you about an interview,” I said softly.

Thea licked her lips. “I don’t have either. Not really a tech person. But I can check in tomorrow or the next day and see if Duncan’s interested.”

No phone or email. I didn’t know anyone without both. Even Lolli, who was always going on and on about the evils of technology, had a cell phone and email—even if she only used that email for ordering diamond art supplies and weed.

“Sure,” I told Thea. “That’s not a problem at all.”

“Thanks, Rho.” Her cheeks flushed. “You’re a really good person.”

I opened my mouth to say something, anything, but Thea was already turning to leave. I watched her thread her way through rows of plants until she slipped out the door. But even after she disappeared, I couldn’t stop wondering what the heck she was hiding from.

As I slowed to a stop at the last traffic light in town, I rolled my shoulders, trying to relieve some of the tension there. Duncan and I had spent hours rotating displays this afternoon. Between that and doing heavy lifting first thing, my body was paying for it. I really needed that hot bath and some ibuprofen.

The light changed from red to green, and I eased off the brake. I stole a quick glance at the newly painted sign for The Mix Up and wished like hell they were still open. I would’ve done bad things for their spinach and artichoke grilled cheese right about now.

Biscuit stuck his head over the hammock, resting it on my shoulder. Everything inside me twisted at the simple action. He was coming out of his shell more and more.

I scratched the side of his jaw as I guided my SUV toward home. “We’ll just have to settle for my grilled cheese creation and kibble for you.”

I swore I could see Biscuit glaring at me in the rearview mirror.

“Don’t give me that look. You already had one sandwich today. We’re lucky you didn’t have the Hershey squirts all over the nursery. Dunc never would’ve let you back in after that.”

Biscuit let out a huff of air, and I couldn’t help but laugh.

In a matter of minutes, I was turning onto my drive. My drive. To my house. It was all still a little surreal. That familiar twitchiness came over me—the feeling of my skin being too tight for my body, making it itchy.

I forced myself to take a deep breath.

In. Two. Three.

I took in the stunning view as I inhaled. The rock formations. The mountains. The place my family had loved.

Out. Two. Three.

I tried to release the edge of panic as I exhaled. Some part of me worried that if I ever truly put down roots again, something awful would happen to take it all away. But I couldn’t let that ugly fear win. It would mean the fire had won. And I wasn’t about to let that happen.

I slowed my SUV as I reached the makeshift parking area in front of the Victorian. Owen was chugging a bottle of water, and Silas and Carlos were shoving gear into the backs of their trucks. I rolled down my window, sending them a grin. “Working hard or hardly workin’?”

Silas shot me a wide smile. “Just calling off for the day. You want to hit the bar with me?”

A chuckle slipped free as I shook my head. “Hitting the bar with you means dealing with death glares from your many adoring fans.”

Silas mimed a dagger to the heart. “Killing me. You know I’d send ‘em all packing for you, dream girl.”

Carlos snorted, smacking him on the back of the head. “You want Shep to tan your hide?”

Silas just laughed. “Gotta shoot your shot.”

Owen sent Silas a glare. “Or you could try something new and leave her the fuck alone.”

Oh, hell. I didn’t know what it was that made Owen think he needed to play the protective brother role when I had four of them already. Maybe it was because we’d been classmates since I moved to Sparrow Falls, and he’d worked for Shep since getting out of high school.

Only it was hardly necessary when it came to Silas’s antics. We’d been running this back-and-forth forever. But it seemed to get on Owen’s nerves more and more lately.

It wasn’t like any of this was new. Silas had been a player since puberty, moving from one girl to the next in rapid-fire succession. He wasn’t the type that promised more, but still somehow managed to leave a trail of broken hearts in his wake.

Owen had his share of romantic partners, but not nearly as many. He struggled to commit to anything. He came and went from Shep’s crew with a frequency that made me dizzy. And his temper was one of legend.

Carlos was the only one of the three of them to settle down. He had a wife and an adorable baby girl named Gabby now. Maybe he’d rub off on the other two someday. And from the look he flashed them both right now, he’d be giving them an earful later.

“Chill, dude,” Silas said, frowning at Owen.

Owen laughed, but the sound didn’t quite ring true. “Just givin’ you shit.”

Silas didn’t join him in laughing.

Carlos broke the awkward silence by moving toward my truck and tapping the open window. “Good day in the plant biz?” Before I could answer, Biscuit let out a low growl, and Carlos stepped back. “You sure that one’s safe to have at your place?”

I scratched under Biscuit’s chin, easing his snarls. “Just not partial to people of the male variety.”

Carlos snorted. “My wife would say he’s smart.”

“You said it, not me. Have a good night, guys,” I said with a wave as I eased off the brake. I kept the window down as I headed for the guest cottage. Shep’s truck was gone, and the only other one by the Victorian was a familiar black one. I couldn’t help but stare at it a little too long.

Anson had felt like a ghost this week. I rarely saw him, but I felt his presence. It was as if the air moved differently when he was around.

I tore my gaze away from the truck and focused on the drive that curved around the main house and toward the cottage. Pulling to a stop in front of my temporary home, I cut the engine. Biscuit let out a deep woof.

I reached back and scratched under his chin. “You happy to be home? You had to do a lot of peopling today.”

And Biscuit had done remarkably well until just now. He’d let out a low growl or two at men who’d come to check out, but having the counter between him and them had allowed Biscuit to feel safe while getting used to the gender.

Hopping out of my SUV, I moved to the back door. I opened it and quickly hooked on Biscuit’s leash. When he jumped down, I shut the door behind him and led him toward the cottage.

My muscles ached as I walked. Maybe I needed a bath before food. My stomach rumbled in protest. Apparently, that was a no.

I trudged up the steps to the front porch, slowing as I spotted something lying on my welcome mat. I squinted as I crouched down.

The moment I caught sight of the image, it was as if all the air had been knocked out of me. The photograph was charred around the edges, the image itself a bit warped from the heat. But I could still make out what it was.

My family. Happy. Carefree as we sat having a picnic at the creek not far from here. My eyes were shining in the photo, my mouth open in a half laugh, half yell as my dad tickled my side. Mom’s arms were around Emilia, squeezing her tightly and making her grin.

I hadn’t wanted to take the photo. It was why Dad was tickling me, trying to get me to smile. Why had I been such a brat that day? Why hadn’t I appreciated what was right in front of me? Why hadn’t I soaked up every minute I had with them?

My breaths came faster and faster, each one tripping over the previous in an effort to get out. My lungs burned like they had that night as I breathed pure smoke. The sensation, so embedded in my brain, only spurred the panic on.

Biscuit let out a whine as I struggled to get even a shred of oxygen into my system. Black dots danced in front of my vision, and I knew I was going down.