Page 97 of Some Things Never Change

Andy snorted. “Maybe you just like watching me arrange flowers instead.”

I leaned over the table to watch him closely. He looked how he often looked when he put his building blocks projects together—concentrated and confident—as if he had done this over a million times. It was such a sexy look on him.

“Maybe I do.”

He turned to me with a raised, curious brow. He scoffed as a smile tugged at the curve of his lips. “Are you admitting that you’re just making me do all the work here?”

“That’s not what you said when you made me those beautiful bouquets for Valentine’s Day.”

He chuckled, grabbing a white rose to add to my bouquet. “True, but I was trying to send you a message that you clearly didn’t seem to get for a very long time.”

“That’s not true! My heart was racing all over the place when I saw it in my room.”

“Was that why you looked like you wanted to kiss me? You kept staring at my lips after you saw the bouquets in your room.”

His eyes sparkled with excitement, and his lips cocked into an arrogant smile. He continued to add another white rose. My face began burning red hot.

“So? W-What about it?”

Andy laughed. He puckered his lips toward me, and I rolled my eyes at him.

“You should’ve just kissed me. I wanted you to kiss me so much I even had a dream about it.”

“You did?”

“I’ve dreamed about you every night since you started living here.” His words came out so easily, as if he had told me this many times before.

“Really?”

He laughed again. “Yeah.”

My brows furrowed. “Why didn’t you tell me about it until now?”

Andy didn’t respond to my question as he finished adjusting my bouquet and held it up for inspection. “There, that looks much better.”

He leaned in closer to me to show me his work as I took in his usual clean scent. “Thank you, Andy, but you didn’t answer my question. Why didn’t you tell me about your dreams until now?”

He glanced at me as he tied up the bouquet he helped fix. He shrugged. “They’re just dreams, and I doubt it would have made you comfortable, knowing I dreamed that often about you.”

“What are they about?”

Our floral arrangement night was slowly becoming a night of my one thousand questions while sexy florist Andy did all the hard work. He picked up the mixed bouquet he was putting together for his mom. I waited for him to answer me, but all he did was turn away. Was he avoiding my questions? Then I noticed how red the back of his neck became.

“Sweetheart, are you being shy again?” I couldn’t help teasing him.

That must have ticked him off, because he immediately faced me with a flustered look. His face was bright red. “I’m not being shy! Those dreams were just of us, being together and living our everyday lives. Alright? A-And, sometimes there were kids—our kids—in my dreams.”

I looked back, stunned. Kids in his dreams? I felt my own face begin to flush as I thought of Andy making me a bouquet one day with our nonexistent kids. My flush seemed to have made his face burn even hotter and brighter, but his tender gaze on mine never faltered.

"I know it sounds stupid, but I’ve always known what I wanted if I could be with you. Then, when you showed up in Santa Mariana, I wanted it even more. When I said I want it all with you, I really do.”

My heart fluttered at his words as I reached out to hold his hand. "What was I like in these dreams?"

He blinked slowly as a smile crossed his lips. "You were happy. And you made me happy, too. We were happy together."

I felt a warmth spread through me at his words, and I couldn't deny the way my heart swelled with affection for him. We were happy together.

"Andy, why didn't you tell me about your dreams?"

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