Series: Willow Winters
Total pages in book: 17
Estimated words: 15525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 78(@200wpm)___ 62(@250wpm)___ 52(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 15525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 78(@200wpm)___ 62(@250wpm)___ 52(@300wpm)
It's only been fifteen minutes, tops, but I'm so wound up about this date that I feel like I've been trapped in a chair for a day's worth of classes or meetings or anything that keeps me away from Aubrey.
The bells above the door chime as I go into the flower shop. It's crowded with plants in different arrangements. I make my way around them to the counter in the back, where Dale is waiting with his wife.
The guy looks way too casual. His glasses perch on his dark hair, and he peers down at the cash register with a careful look on his face, like he's trying to hide that my dad clearly talked to him about me. His wife stands at his side, beaming. She's not doing a damn thing to hide how excited she is. As I get closer, she nudges Dale with her elbow.
He does the fakest startle I've ever seen and clears his throat. "Bennet! What can I get for you?"
"Mind if I take a look at your bouquets?"
I'm already halfway around the counter, headed for the cold room where they keep the pre-made bouquets, expecting that Dale will wave me through.
"Bennet, wait."
I turn back, and his wife is standing there with a gorgeous bouquet in her hands. Peonies in pastel colors burst from the top. It's better than anything I could have picked out in the back, and it's clearly been made just for Aubrey.
"I just made this one," she says and before I can say anything the bell chimes again, taking my attention back to the front door.
A woman steps into the flower shop, pushing a lock of hair out of her face. She looks vaguely familiar, a bit older, but I'm not sure why I recognize her. Half of this town is like that. I can't place her so I look back at the flowers. Dale's wife has them all ready for me, tied with a ribbon.
“I think I’ll go ahead and take those off your hands,” I tell her.
I take a few steps forward and get my wallet out of my pocket, then hand over my card. Dale plucks it out of my hand and runs it, his wife still grinning about the flowers, and I can't wait to see Aubrey's face when I give them to her--even if my dad is a busybody, along with everybody else in this town.
I guess sometimes it pays off, though I'll never admit that to my dad.
Dale hands me my card back, and then his wife gives me the bouquet. It has a decent weight in my arm. The scent of peonies is perfect. Near the door, the woman has stopped doing whatever it was she was doing with her purse, and our eyes meet again when she's about halfway through the flower shop.
She stops dead, her eyes going wide, surprise transforming her face. "Bennet? Is that you?"
It takes me a moment to realize I do know her. “Mrs. Baker,” I lament as it hits me. She’s a teacher from my high school, looking just a bit older with slight wrinkles around her eyes.
“How are you doing?” she questions with a wide smile but before I can answer she says, “I heard you were back in town.”
My eyebrow shoots up, likely to my forehead, “You did, did you?” I’ve only been back a week and I’m barely moved in. “I’m still waiting on a few boxes but mostly back.”
“I heard you came back to town for a reason,” she peers down at the flowers in my hands and makes a little face like she’s in on the secret. “I’m so happy you’re doing well,” she tells me and then brightens, “you two have fun.”
Words escape me as I turn and watch Mrs. Baker, in all her glory, smug as can be, gather up a bunch of carnations and shoo me on.
I swear, this town’s memory is as long as the summer days.
AUBREY
My street has never been more captivating than when I'm waiting for Bennet to park in front of my house. Although for a Saturday, it’s uneventful apart from Miss Shaw gardening at the far end of the street.
I watch through the front window like the outdoors is a movie, watching the late-afternoon light come down on the street. It makes everything gold. The leaves rustling in the trees. A flag on the house across the street waving in the sun. Everything seems more beautiful, in deeper colors, and it's all because I can't wait for this date to start.
I shake out the nerves and check my reflection in the front room mirror when the minutes tick by.
Finally, a truck comes down the street and slows in front of my house. It's Steve's truck, which means Steve must have been really desperate...or else he really wanted Bennet to be able to take me out.