Page 108 of The Floral Arrangement

“Oh, I forgot to tell you. I already told everyone that I was into you—well, not my parents yet, but Blake, Jenny, George and Hannah.” I grinned.

Roz’s eyes widened. “You did?”

“Yes, I told them on Sunday, when I was moping about you.”

“What did they say?” Roz ran her hand down my upper arm and then let it fall to my waist.

“They were a little surprised, but all supportive, just as I knew they would be. I told them I’m still figuring out my label.” I gently squeezed Roz’s hand. “But there’s one thing I know for sure.”

“Oh? What’s that?”

“I find you incredibly sexy.” I leaned forward and kissed Roz, reveling in the faintly sweet scent of the dahlias above us mixed with her cedar undertones.

The first chance I got, I’d be deleting that dating app. I wasn’t going to need to complete the dating profile after all.

CHAPTERTHIRTY-EIGHT

ROZ

“This looks great!”Olivia exclaimed, standing back to admire the row of vendor stalls next to the farm stand. “And the weather is perfect, thank god!”

My eyes dipped to her chest, where the wordsI wet my plantswere scrawled over a pot of flowers. I chuckled. Olivia had found her t-shirt while rummaging in my drawers this morning, and insisted on wearing it.

Red Tractor Farm’s inaugural spring festival had only opened twenty minutes ago, but kids were already running around, playing the games we’d set up—tug of war, bean bag toss and giant Jenga—while adults and teenagers browsed the stalls.

We’d nervously monitored the weather forecast for the past two weeks. Thankfully the rain and clouds that had been predicted earlier in the week had failed to materialize. It was a glorious spring day, with a forecasted high of 73 degrees.

The blues band that had been setting up on the wooden stage began to play. I grinned. This was perfect.

Prue, standing behind the Rosedale Estate stall, a large straw hat covering her short black hair, called out. “Would you ladies like a taste of anything before the rush starts?” She gestured at the wine bottles and tasting glasses set up in front of her.

I laughed. “I’m on hayride-driving duties today, so I’ll have to decline.”

“And I need to talk intelligibly about flowers today, so I’ll pass as well. Thanks though,” Olivia replied. She was running an eco-friendly flower-arranging workshop at three o’clock.

More visitors streamed onto the farm. We might need the overflow parking we’d set up after all. I didn’t need any of Prue’s wine to feel a buzz of excitement.

I spotted Matt through the crowds of people, walking toward me.

“I’ve asked Mom and Dad to keep an eye on Lottie,” he said. I followed his gaze to where Lottie was patiently waiting in line to get her face painted, Mom standing next to her. “I just need to duck out to pick up a surprise for her.”

“Okay,” I said, narrowing my eyes. What on earth was he picking up now? Maybe some noise-cancelling headphones to drown out the sound of Lottie’s new drum kit? “I’m due to drive the first hayride in ten minutes. If her face painting is finished by then I’ll see if they want to come. It’ll be a good way to keep her out of mischief.”

“Thanks.” Matt grinned. “I’ll be back soon!”

He walked off, a definite spring to his step. It was good to see him so happy.

“Hey, Roz, where’s the bake sale?” I turned to find George holding two large cake tins, Hannah standing next to her, her arms laden with Tupperware.

“Hello! Wow, you’ve been busy! It’s over there.” I pointed to a long trestle table close to the stage, covered in baked goods. Jenny and Blake stood behind it, chatting to an elderly couple. “I’ll have to pop over before you’re sold out.”

Blake spotted us and waved, grinning. She’d been in an excellent mood since our win over The Gran Masters at trivia night last week.

“Thanks!” George said, turning to head over to the table.

“Look at my face!” Lottie squealed behind me.

I turned to find my niece’s face adorned with a gigantic red flower.

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