Page 156 of Just Let Go

It was the first time Quinn had actually gotten a good look at her mother’s face since childhood, and while she’d aged, of course, there was still a hint of the same woman Quinn had known and loved all those years ago.

Jacie began talking about one of the other contestants, explaining why her design was chosen as a finalist.

What was she going to say about Quinn?

Next came commentary about the man standing to Quinn’s right, whose work was “edgy and moody.”

Quinn watched the screen in the back that faced the stage, doing her best to connect with a woman who wasn’t really there, listening as she gave her opinion about her estranged daughter’s work.

“In January, I had the pleasure of visiting Harbor Pointe for their Winter Carnival, where Quinn Collins’s Secret Garden display absolutely took my breath away. It was inventive and whimsical, and its magic captured my imagination the moment I stepped through the door. I wasn’t the only one smitten with Miss Collins’s work, as many of the guests I talked to were enamored with the beauty on display. Miss Collins shows great promise and creativity as a floral designer, definitely one to watch. If you’re looking for beautiful craftsmanship mixed with incomparable artistry, make your way to her Forget-Me-Not Flower Shop today.”

The screen went dark, but Quinn still stared at it, as if she could will her mother to come back. To say one personal word to her. To send her some kind of signal, some kind of hint that she still cared.

But she was gone. And there was nothing. Only a crisp professionalism that still kept her, after all this time, at a distance.

Quinn glanced up and found her father’s eyes. They were drilling her, as if to ask how she was doing. Down the line, she saw face after face with the same concerned expression.

She was so loved. Her life was so good. Maybe staying away was the best gift her mother could have given her.

And as they called her name as the second-place winner, and she stood on that podium staring out at all their shining, cheerful faces, it occurred to her that there was only one glaring exception.

And it wasn’t the one she’d been chasing her whole life.

News of her second-place achievement spread across Harbor Pointe like butter on a warm pancake. It seemed it didn’t matter if you won the Olympic gold or took home second place in a floral design competition—the people of this town were going to celebrate.

The shop had gone from busy to bustling with news of her success, and she had brides calling to book her for weddings thatweren’t scheduled for months. In anticipation of a very busy year, she’d hired two part-time employees.

After her realization at the Expo, she’d decided she’d been stubborn long enough. Grady might’ve told her he wanted her to leave, but that television interview had given her reason to think maybe he’d reconsidered.

She needed to find out for sure. In person. The thought sent a jolt of panic down her back.

Now that she’d been on a plane once before, she had all the courage she needed to book another ticket. But facing him, putting herself on the line again—that took an entirely different kind of courage, one she wasn’t sure she could muster.

Besides, she’d been scouring race websites to find out if he was still competing, since the season wasn’t actually over, but so far, she’d come up empty. She didn’t know where Grady was at the moment, and she didn’t like it.

Her last resort would be to check with Jaden, which meant making her plan known. At this point, it might be her only option. And Grady was worth possible humiliation.

On Saturdays, like today, she let her employees handle the shop while she took slow, purposeful mornings with her favorite coffee and whatever book had captured her attention that week.

Now, from her spot at a small café table outside Dandy’s Bakery, she watched a young family ride by on their bikes, tires kerplunking along the brick road. The sound of children laughing carried over from the park on the next block, and shoppers chattered on as they passed by, everyone making the most of the unseasonably warm weekend in the middle of March.

“Is this seat taken?”

Quinn froze. She knew that voice—she’d never get it out of her head. But there was no way it could be...

She turned around.

Grady.

He stood there looking as if he’d just stepped out of the pagesof a catalog: chiseled cheekbones, lightly scruffy yet strong and healthy. His eyes shone bright at the sight of her.

“Hey, Q.” His smile faded as he took her in.

She stood. “What are you doing here?”

He shrugged. “Heard there was this great little flower shop, and—” He pulled a bouquet, wrapped in brown paper and tied with string, from behind his back.

“Tulips,” she said. “You spent money to give me my own flowers?”

---