That was it.
It’s so confusing. He says he isn’t relationship material, and then he goes and texts me “Good night.”
I jab the rose into the bouquet I’m assembling and tell myself to get a grip. It doesn’t matter whether he wants a relationship or not. I’m not into him like that. There’s absolutely no feelings stirring up in me. Anything I feel so far is just attraction. I mean who wouldn’t be attracted to Will Griffin? It’s got to be a law of nature or something. Nothing to worry about—but I definitely need to keep my head on straight and remind myself that all the kissing and cuddling and texting is just a part of the process of my transformation.
He’s Fred and I’m Audrey. But in our movie, the credits will roll after my transformation is complete and I’ve found the wholeness I’ve been looking for. Romance subplot, removed. Admittedly, it would be easier to picture this analogy if Will weren’t so freaking hot. I need to draw some wrinkles on his face and strap him in tap shoes and high-wasted trousers. That’ll cure my attraction.
My attention goes to the shop door when the bell rings and a nice-looking man steps inside.
“Hi! Let me know if I can help you with anything,” I say while continuing to mess with the bouquet. I try not to crowd shoppers because no one likes a hovering sales associate.
“Thanks,” says the man and immediately I take note of his voice. It’s a nice voice. And because it caught my attention, I try to discreetly assess him as he wanders around the shop.
Nice light brown hair cropped close to his head but with enough play on the top to style it
A well-groomed beard
Button-down casual dress shirt
Nice jeans
Clearly works out
No wedding ring
He looks up and catches me looking, so I’m forced to say something. “Um, those premade bouquets are half-price.”
“Great,” he says with an easy smile. “Thanks.”
The arrangement I’m working on is missing something. It looks nice and all, but I think it’s lacking a standout element. Something that grabs me and doesn’t let me look away. Something exciting. It’s missing a dangerous black rim around its irises…and wait, I’m not thinking about flowers anymore, am I?
I barely refrain from groaning into my hands. Of course I would be thinking about Will while a handsome (possibly single) man is roaming around my flower shop.
“Hey, could I get your advice on something?” the man asks, approaching me at the worktable.
“Of course! I’d be happy to help.”
He frowns, looking around the shop. “What sort of bouquet is appropriate to buy for a woman who just had a baby?”
Oh.
He’s a dad.
Well, that’s that.
“Actually, for a sister-in-law who just had a baby,” he amends like maybe he saw my face and wanted to clarify.
Things are looking up again.
I walk around the worktable and go to the far corner, where I have a few freshly assembled, colorful flowers. “I think any of these would be perfect. They’re beautiful but not over-the-top.”
“Great.” He leans in and selects one—treating me to a sniff of his cologne. And it is cologne. He definitely owns a fancy bottle of something cinnamonlike and spritzes it once—maybe twice—before he leaves the house.
I think I like it. Or I could like it.
It doesn’t smell anything like…
No! Not finishing that absurd thought. Now is my chance to use a little bit of the newfound confidence I’ve been practicing.
“So are you from around here or just in for a visit?” I say, wondering if this has been an appropriate amount of eye contact.
“I’ve actually just moved to town. Or the town over, to be exact. My family lives around here, and I felt ready to settle down. So I moved my clinic here and bought a house.”
This is starting to feel like a lot of eye contact. Too much. Oh gosh, I need to look away. And please tell me why I never have this issue with Will? With him I never want to look away.
I take his bouquet to the counter to ring it up. “Oh, are you a doctor?”
“Veterinarian,” he says, and that earns another ding, ding, ding sound in my brain because I love animals. Even better—a man who loves animals too. And he’s apparently a family man who is looking to put down roots! My sisters would definitely be giving me a thumbs-up right now and telling me to go for it.
“That’s great news!” I say a little over the top.
“Oh yeah? Do you have any animals?”
“Well…no, but it’s great news for everyone else who does.” He laughs and hands me his credit card. “Brandon Larsdale,” I say, shamelessly reading the name on his credit card out loud.
“No fair. I don’t get to scan your credit card to learn your name.”
I smile up at him, feeling my cheeks turn pink in a way that I really wish they wouldn’t. I think he’s flirting with me now too—and the familiar discomfort of talking to a new guy is settling over me. Must push through. “I’m Annie Walker.”
“Nice to meet you, Annie.” He pauses only briefly as he picks up his bouquet from the counter. “Listen, I realize this is really forward of me, but…you don’t happen to be single, are you?”
My heart trips. Is he about to ask me out? Is this really happening? Do I want it to happen?
Also, what constitutes “single”? If you ask anyone in the town, they would say I’m dating a dangerous-looking bodyguard. But that’s not real, Annie.
“I am single,” I say and then realize my chin is lifted. I promptly level it.
Brandon smiles. “Well, then, would you be interested in going out sometime? I know we just met, and this could come across as super creepy, so no pressure. Also, I’m on Instagram if you want to look me up to make sure I’m legit.”
I should say yes. Say yes, Annie! He’s ticking all the boxes so far, and if I want to get married, I have to go on a date again. But I don’t want to end up on a date with someone who’s only looking to hook up at the end of the night, because no matter how amazing making out with Will has been lately, I’m realizing I’ll never be the first date hookup kind of person. And maybe that’s okay?
Honestly, this could be perfect. I wanted to pursue both paths (one, being dating, and the other, giving in to self-indulgence) in hopes of figuring out which one brings me the peace I’ve been looking for—and it looks like one of those paths is currently illuminated with a blinking sign above it reading Walk This Way.
I decide to throw out the truth to see if this man will be a waste of my time or not.
“I need to be up front with you, Brandon. I’m not looking for anything casual.”
His smile grows. “Me neither, actually.” Brandon reaches into his back pocket to fish out his wallet. “Here,” he says, and then takes out a very official-looking business card with his veterinary clinic’s logo and information on it. “Do you have a pen?”
I hand him one, and he quickly jots down a number on the back. “This is my cell. Text me if you think you’d like to go out. Or if you just want to talk and get to know each other.”
“Okay, I will. Thank you,” I say taking his card and giving him one more smile before he turns, telling me to have a nice day and he hopes we see each other again.
The second he’s out the door, I drop the card on the counter like it’s a poisonous leaf.
“Well,” I say, rubbing the back of my neck as I stare down at the little rectangular card. “This is unexpected.”
