Page 39 of Pining for Pierce

“Yes… thanks, Harley.”

With that, he steps away, walking around the other side of my desk and straight out the door. I watch it close behind him, tears filling my eyes yet again, because he’s clearly serious this time. He wouldn’t have said all of that if he wasn’t. The thought of him settling down with another woman makes me sick to my stomach, and I regret that grilled cheese and ham sandwich now, raising my hand to my mouth just as Doctor Singleton comes through the door.

“Don’t just stand there,” he says. “Come into my office. My first patient is due any minute, and I’m nowhere near ready.”

I’m not sure why that’s my fault, but I follow him anyway, relieved to have something to take my mind off of how sick I feel, and the thought of Pierce and the woman of his dreams… whoever she might be.

Chapter Ten

Pierce

Harley told me to send flowers, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do. I’d have done it anyway, but hearing her say no-one had ever sent her flowers before made me even more determined to be the first.

Naturally, part of me hoped she might have advised me to kiss the woman of my dreams, or that she might even have guessed I was talking about her. If she’d done either of those things, I’d have taken her in my arms, I’d have kissed her, and asked her to be mine. Then I’d have told her that even though I want forever, I know it won’t be long enough. We need more than that.

It would be nice to have made all that happen, and to still be there, holding her close and gazing into her eyes. But thinking about it, being the first guy to send her flowers is quite important, and what I’ve got in mind is going to make it so much better. Even if there is an element of delayed gratification about it.

Why? Because there are things to be said, and although I could pick up the flowers and take them back to Harley’s office with me, I think I’d rather we spoke in private, away from prying eyes. If that means waiting a while, then so be it… because I have to get this right. Failure isn’t an option.

I push open the door to the flower shop and step inside, the sweet scent hitting me the moment I walk in.

“Hi, there.” I glance up, to be faced with a beautiful brunette, standing on the other side of the counter, although she doesn’t stay there for long. She comes out to join me, revealing a slender figure, which is partially hidden by a pale pink apron, with the store’s logo in the center. She must be new, because I know the woman who used to work here. When I say I ‘know’ her, I don’t mean that in any literal sense. She’s not from Hart’s Creek, and over the years, I don’t think we’ve done more than nod to each other on the street. But I recall her name was Stella. At least, I think it was. I know for sure she’s married to Dylan Moore… and he was born and raised here. He was a couple of years above Ben and me at school, and his dad owned the electronics store that used to be opposite here, until Mitch Bradshaw bought it and turned it into a gym. Anyway, Stella had a baby a while back, and I guess she’s decided to be a stay-at-home mom, because I haven’t seen her in here for a while… although I’m not the most regular of customers.

“Can I help?” the woman says, snagging my attention, and I nod my head.

“Can you send some flowers for me?”

She nods her head, giving me another smile. It might have had a different effect a few days ago, but now I’m immune, and I just glance around at the flowers, which are displayed down one side of the store, wishing she’d get on with it.

“What would you like?”

“Roses. Red ones.”

Her smile widens. “How many?”

“I don’t know. How many do people usually buy?”

“With red roses, it’s customary to buy them by the dozen.”

“Oh. In that case, I’ll have two dozen.”

Her eyes widen slightly, and I wonder if that’s too many… or not enough.

“Okay,” she says, going back behind the counter. “Can you give me the name and address of the recipient?”

“Sure. Her name is Harley Riggs.” She writes that down, adding Harley’s address when I give it to her.

“When would you like them delivered?” she asks, looking up at me. Her smile seems less intense now, and I don’t think that’s my imagination. I think she’s realized she’s wasting her time… which she is, of course.

“Tomorrow afternoon, as close to four as possible.” That should give me time to close up the store and get over to Harley’s place not long afterwards.

She frowns slightly, writing my instructions. “Okay,” she says. “Would you like to add a message?”

“Yes, please.”

She hands me a small card and a pen, and I take a moment, smiling to myself as I write the shortest message in the world, and then I swallow hard when she tells me how much this is all gonna cost, making me realize why she reacted the way she did when I asked for so many roses.

My credit card positively groans, but I don’t care. Harley’s worth it.

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