Love Redone in Hidden Harbor (Island County Book 2) (13 page)

“I’d almost say it was a misunderstanding.”

“What are you talking about? You don’t accidentally propose to someone.”

“Well, since you asked.” She grinned mischievously. “They’d been dating for six months.”

“Six months?” My eyes widened. I’d given him years and still wound up without him.

“Yes, it gets worse or better, depending on how you look at it.”

I gestured for her to continue.

“They were out to dinner with her family and she began to announce that she was moving in with Cole, and her parents misunderstood. The next thing Cole knew, the parents were congratulating Cole and Cynthia on their engagement and the rest is history.” Sophie nodded as if that explained everything.

“And how long ago was that?” I asked.

“Nine months ago.”

“So why wouldn’t he just break it off? He’s always been someone who did what he wanted. He wouldn’t accidentally get married unless he liked her.”

“Want my opinion?” she asked.

I nodded and glanced around the bowling alley, still hoping I felt his gaze on me.

I didn’t. I probably never did.

“All he’s ever wanted is you and since he can’t have you, he resigned himself to a life he didn’t care about.”

“No man would do that.”

“They do it all the time.” Sophie threw her hands at me. “What are you talking about?”

“Not Cole. I think you’ve been dipping into my reading selection. There’s no hidden Cole waiting in the wings for me, quietly plotting how to get the girl of his dreams back.”

The Cole I knew was full of passion and direction. He’d never settle. He always got what he wanted, which was why his decision to leave was even more painful. I wasn’t what he wanted. No matter how he remembered it.

“He doesn’t love Cynthia.”

“Well, that’s unfortunate for him. A lifetime is a long time to be attached to someone you don’t like.”

“I honestly don’t think the wedding is happening.”

“Who knows, but you have to promise me that we won’t talk about it anymore. No more Cole talk. It’s done. It’s over. Again. Besides, I haven’t heard a thing from him since he left Fireweed,” I confessed. “I didn’t really think I would, but there was a small part of me that hoped I would maybe get an email or…”

She reached over and squeezed my hand.

“I knew what to expect. It wasn’t like the engagement got called off,” I added.

Sophie glanced over my shoulder and smiled. I twisted in the booth and looked behind me, but I didn’t see anyone.

“Let’s get back before they boot us out of the game.” I took comfort in my beer as I waited for Sophie to stand up and adjust her shirt before we walked back.

“We’ve already gone for you twice. What in the world have you two been up to?” Lily asked, sliding next to Tori. She’d recently married Ayden, Mason’s twin brother.

“Girl talk,” Sophie informed her. “We’re trying to figure out the mystery of love.”

Brandy chuckled and leaned her head against Aaron. “When you figure it out, let us all know.”

“Huh?” I asked, perplexed. “Aren’t you two?”

“Oh, most definitely. But it didn’t necessarily come easy,” Brandy said, grinning at Aaron.

“What good thing does?” Aaron asked. “I almost lost her because I made some very poor decisions, and time managed to slip away while I figured it out.”

“But sometimes the timing just isn’t right,” I said.

“You make the timing right.” Aaron eyed me.

“I agree with Aaron, but if the other person doesn’t make the effort…” Brandy said, twisting her lips into a thin line. “Then what’s the point?”

“Exactly how I feel.” I put my arms in the air. “Don’t you think that if someone really wants you, they’ll find a way to make it happen? They wouldn’t let eight years go by and then show up to confuse things.” The second beer had hit.

“Are we talking about Cole?” Brandy furrowed her brows. Tori had filled her in with a brief summary, and I could see Brandy trying to put the pieces together.

I smiled and grinned. “I still can’t believe I’m giving him the time of day. To think, I almost wound up doing wedding flowers for my high school—”

“And college,” Sophie interrupted.

“Boyfriend.”

“Fiancé,” Sophie mumbled, correcting me again.

“That’s brutal,” Aaron said.

“It wasn’t the highlight of my year. But I’m actually glad I got to see him again. Before he left, we chatted, and I felt closer to him than I ever did.”

“Therein lies the problem,” Sophie added. “And his fiancée is horrible. She cheats.”

“And he’s still getting married?” Aaron asked.

I shrugged my shoulders. “Not sure. But I haven’t heard otherwise. Anyways, nothing like talking about something so romantic with a couple that’s about to walk down the aisle themselves.”

Brandy giggled. “I actually find relationships fascinating.”

She made me feel completely at ease, and I vowed to put Cole out of my mind for the rest of the evening.

“Are you getting married on the island?” I asked. They didn’t live here, but a lot of couples flocked to Fireweed and the surrounding islands to get married. The islands dotting the Puget Sound were unlike anything in the world. Their rugged beauty provided an amazing backdrop and the tranquility calmed even the most agitated of brides.

“Actually, no, but we were hoping you’d be able to travel to our site.”

“Absolutely. Where are you thinking?”

“We’re still rolling around a few places.”

“That’s so sweet of you to think of me to do your flowers. It really means a lot.”

Aaron wrapped his arm around Brandy and squeezed, placing a soft kiss on her forehead, and I swore I felt the love from three feet away.

“I wouldn’t want anyone else. Gabby is making my cake. It makes me feel better if people I know are part of our happy day.” She squeezed Aaron’s hand, and I knew I’d love getting to work with them. “I’ll send over an email with details, and maybe we can set up an appointment?”

“Sounds perfect. I’m so excited. I’d feel absolutely honored to hear your ideas.”

Brandy bent over and whispered. “Our love wasn’t always easy or perfect, but it’s been worth every single second.”

“Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind when I run into Mr. Right.” I grinned and glanced over to the bar, wishing I saw a certain someone.

But I didn’t and I wouldn’t.

It was time I moved on.

For real.

I meant it this time.

I really did.

No more tugging on the dreams of my childhood. I needed to create a future open to the possibilities of love with someone other than Cole Hill.

 

 

 

It was the week of Valentine’s Day, and orders were flooding in left and right. Valentine’s Day was on a Friday this year, which always led to more orders, and today was Wednesday so my time was limited. Walled in by thousands (yes, thousands) of red roses, I felt right at home. Pink roses, yellow roses, and white roses also speckled the shop, but most orders were for long-stemmed, red roses, and who was I to buck tradition?

Weeks had gone by since the Cole debacle, and I had rebounded much better this time than way back in college. The first week was rocky, but I eventually stopped hearing imaginary voices, and I took that as a positive. Every so often, I’d think about what he must have gone through as a boy and my heart ached. I couldn’t picture that kind of cruelty, but I knew it existed in our world. Cole and his brother were the sweetest kids, and I would know. I was there from first grade onward. I took comfort in Cole revealing something so personal to me, but I didn’t allow myself to read anything into it. After all, I hadn’t heard from him since.

I stopped incessantly checking my email for a message from Cole, and Pickles even warmed up to me this week. Maybe she realized she could have been stuck with Cynthia, and no one wanted that.

Not even Pickles.

I switched music channels on my laptop and electronica filled the shop, making Pickles run and hide inside a cardboard box. She’d survive. Pickles enjoyed classical and…well, that was about it. But I needed something that turned my brain off and put me in a trance. I had a lot of work left. Sophie would be here in thirty minutes, and I was looking forward to the company, but for her to help most efficiently, I had to get everything organized. Every holiday, Sophie always lent a hand. It was a great way for her to earn some extra cash, and she helped me so much.

I cut the bands off a bunch of red roses and untangled the leaves of the first stem. Grabbing the rose stripper off the counter, I slid it down to remove the thorns. Normally, I just used my knife, but with the quantity I had stacked up, this tool saved the tips of my fingers. I quickly dethorned twenty-four roses and made two arrangements. Another order slid into my email with a ping, and I groaned.

It was good to be busy, and I was grateful for each and every order on this tiny island, but I hoped I wouldn’t run out of flowers.

I had completed forty-five arrangements since early morning, and it was time for me to put them in the cooler. I’d completely run out of counter space. I rolled the cart that was a foot taller than me over to the table where all the arrangements were, and I began organizing the crystal vases on each level.

The door chimed, and I stood on my tiptoes to see if Sophie came early, but I didn’t see her or anyone. My heart rate climbed as footsteps fell onto the tile floor.

Again, my imagination was out of control.

“Hello?” I called out tentatively, glancing out the window to see if maybe someone just opened the door and didn’t come inside, but I didn’t see anyone on the sidewalk either.

Pickles peeked out of her box, and I watched where her gaze went.

“Is there something I can help you with?” I asked to no one in particular, as my pulse quickened.

I bent down and followed Pickle’s gaze to see the waist of a man.

My heart sputtered, even though I knew I was just gearing up for disappointment.

“I’ll be right over,” I hollered into the air, wiping my hands on my apron and tightening my ponytail.

Still no response.

I scooted past the cart and took in a deep breath, unsure of who I might find. I took a few steps forward, and my eyes landed on the person I least expected to see but shouldn’t have been surprised about.

It wasn’t Cole Hill.

Why would it be?

It was the wonderfully kind and generous Mr. Harten. Our town’s pharmacist who happened to like to do all his business in person with cash. He came every holiday.

I should have known because he also was a tad hard of hearing, and the ease of interacting always hinged on whether or not he turned up his hearing aid. Turned out, today he’d forgotten to turn it up.

“Natalie, I was hoping you weren’t out to lunch. It’s so quiet in here.” His gaze caught mine, and I waved, quickly turning down the music that apparently only I could hear and made my way over to him.

“How are you doing?” I gave him a quick hug and worked my way behind the counter.

“I’m doing mighty fine. Taking Ruth to the cabin tomorrow so I need an arrangement early.” He grinned from ear to ear and my heart filled with joy. Seeing the love he had for his wife gave me hope.

“What are you thinking?” Every year, he changed it up. Ruth loved flowers, and he loved buying them for her. Actually, he loved picking them out, each and every stem.

His thin-skinned hand pushed into his back pocket as he searched for something. He pulled out a crinkled photo and slapped it on the counter.

“This was our first Valentine’s Day, fifty-five years ago. I’d like to replicate that arrangement.”

I picked up the photo and squinted at the image, hoping to bring the flowers into focus better.

“It looks like there are white roses, tiger lilies, and baby’s breath surrounded by leather leaf ferns.”

“Sounds about right. Can I see what you’ve got?” His eyes glinted with excitement and I led him to the cooler.

“Careful. It’s a little tight in here.” I opened up the door and stepped inside with Mr. Harten right behind me. I slid over the buckets filled with tiger lilies and baby’s breath. He bent over slowly and began selecting the flowers for Ruth’s arrangement. My eyes filled with tears as I watched him examine each stem. I turned away quickly and pretended to be doing something with a bucket of long stemmed pink roses when he cleared his throat.

“You doin’ okay?” he asked, straightening up and handing me his flower selections.

“I’m doing great. It’s just nice to see a love like you have. My parents have it too.”

His smile deepened and he nodded slowly. “I don’t think it’s as easy as it used to be to find the one. Let’s get out of here before I freeze to death.”

I followed him out of the cooler and pondered what he said as I laid the stems on the counter to examine. Was that true? Had things become more difficult or had we just turned away from love?

Mr. Harten picked out a vase, and I filled it up with water and flower food before slicing the ends of the stems and arranging them into a replica of his first Valentine’s Day with Ruth. It was impossible to be a florist and be cynical. The two didn’t go hand in hand.

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