Page 67 of The Floral Arrangement

Once I smelled less like a walking vampire repellent, the scent of coffee drew me down the stairs and into the kitchen, where Roz stood over the stovetop, prodding something in a frying pan with a spatula.

She turned and grinned. My heart did that beat-skipping thing again.

“Does scrambled eggs with bacon, avocado and toast sound okay? I’ve also got granola, cereal, jam or peanut butter, if you’d prefer. Or last night’s pizza.” She winked at me. “Oh, and here’s your coffee.” She handed me a mug, her fingers brushing against mine.

I shivered. “Thank you.” With my hands wrapped around the warm ceramic, I took a sip, the strong latte sliding down my throat. “This is just what I needed. And eggs and bacon sounds incredible.” When was the last time someone cooked me breakfast?

I leaned against the kitchen island, watching Roz. The sleeves of her flannel shirt were rolled up, and the muscles of her forearm flexed as she flipped the bacon. I licked my lips. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Nope, I’ve got it all under control.” Roz scooped up a large spoonful of scrambled eggs and placed them on a plate already waiting with toast and avocado. She added two pieces of streaky bacon and handed me the dish. “Here you are. I thought we could sit out on the back deck.”

Cool air hit us as Roz swung open the back door of the farmhouse. I took a seat on one of the wicker chairs overlooking the farm. Ronnie had disappeared and Thelma and Louise had drifted closer to the fence, perhaps to keep an eye on us. The soft cluck of chickens and the bleating of the baby goats provided a relaxing soundtrack to the morning.

I shoveled a forkful of creamy scrambled eggs into my mouth and groaned. Roz’s eyes jerked in my direction.

Heat flooded my cheeks. “Sorry. This is really delicious.” So much for a quick bite. I’d definitely be staying until I’d finished the entire plate of food. Between the coffee and the food, my headache was already subsiding.

Roz grinned. “The eggs were freshly laid—I ran out and got them while you were in the shower.”

“Thank you, chickens!” I yelled in the direction of the petting zoo.

A rooster crowed back.

Roz chuckled. “Typical man, taking all the credit.”

I snorted and pierced a strip of bacon with my fork. “So, what did you think of the movies last night?”

“Surprisingly enjoyable,” Roz said, after she’d swallowed her bite of toast.

“Oh good! I found it very difficult to narrow it down to three, so if you want to watch any more, I’ve got plenty of suggestions.” My cheeks warmed for the second time in minutes. Had I just suggested another movie night? I didn’t want to make a thing of this, especially not movie nights in Roz’s bed. That felt… dangerous.

“That would be nice.” Roz shifted in her seat. Her shirt rose up, revealing a strip of smooth skin above her pants. I yanked my eyes up.Very dangerous.

“I could invite some of the others. And we could all hang out… as friends.” I cringed. It suddenly felt very important to clarify that. I took a bite of toasted sourdough, slathered with butter, and resisted the urge to moan again.

“I’d like that. To be friends.” Roz’s tone was stilted, but she looked genuine enough. “But I’ll need to replace the TV in the living room before I can host. I don’t think we could fit the whole trivia team in my bed—if that’s who you were thinking of inviting.”

I laughed. “Yes, it might be a little cozy. We don’t want any more falls.” I looked down at my plate and scooped up a chunk of avocado.

Roz placed her mug on the table. “You know I really related to Richard Gere inPretty Woman.”

I looked up and snorted. “Why? Because you’re so rich and handsome?” My neck prickled. Handsome? Why the hell did I say that?

Roz’s lips twitched. “No. But thank you. Because he was a corporate player, focused on money and short-term gain, but then moved to a more rewarding, ethical business model.”

I tilted my head. “So, were you a ruthless corporate raider before you moved out here?”

“Not quite.” Roz stared out over the petting zoo. “But I helped my clients be ruthless corporate raiders. This farm feels like an opportunity to start things over and do things a bit differently.”

I nodded slowly. “That makes sense. It must feel pretty incredible, knowing that this farm is making invaluable memories for thousands of children. Oh, and did I ever mention that both Blake and Jenny and Hannah and George had big moments in their early relationships here?”

“No. But I’d believe it. ‘Red Tractor Farm, bringing queer women together since 1886.’” Roz quirked an eyebrow.

I laughed again. “Hang on a second. If you’re Richard Gere, does that make me Julia Roberts? If so, I’ll take it.” I tossed my hair behind my head.

Roz smiled, a warm, wide, breathtaking smile. Not the tight smile I’d captured in our selfie or the smirk I’d become so well accustomed to. My stomach fluttered.Friends like making friends laugh.Yes. But did they like it this much?

To distract myself from the fluttering, I jumped on the first conversation topic I thought of. “So, did you learn any fake-dating tips from our evening of research that you think we should implement?” I slammed my mouth shut. There was one, very obvious, answer—the one I’d thought of yesterday—that had featured inLove to HateYou. But surely Roz wouldn’t suggest that…

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