Page 96 of Moonstruck Kiss

“Let it all out,” Josie urges.

And I bawl.

Chapter

Nineteen

JOEY

The biggest andmost beautiful bouquet of flowers I’ve ever seen is delivered to my studio. There’s a note attached to it, but I’m hesitant to read it. Who else could this be from but Brax?

I don’t know why he’s wasting his money. This is the third day in a row that he’s sent me flowers, and I’ve just given them away. I guess he has money to burn, though, considering he only cares about lining his pockets with plenty of cash from his soulless employer.

I sniff. I’m hurting so badly, my wounds fresh and deep. I’m scared that I might never heal.

Still, I can’t help but wonder what he’s written on the note. I’ve managed to ignore the previous ones, but have felt some regret at losing the chance to read them after I’ve handed the bouquet to others. I blame my sense of curiosity. It doesn’t let up.

Anyway, surely it won’t hurt that much to read this one before getting rid of it?

I reach for the note but snatch my hand away before my fingers touch it. Gah, I can’t make up my mind!

“Hi,” says an achingly familiar voice from behind me.

Slowly, I turn around—and gasp.

Brax is standing by the doorway and he looks terrible! Oh, he’s still handsome as hell but he looks like he hasn’t slept in days. Then again, I haven’t been sleeping well, either.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, my voice strained.

“At the risk of sounding stalker-ish, I was hoping to catch a glimpse of you. And the door was open…”

“I’m not ready to talk, Brax. I don’t know if I ever will be.”

He smiles without cheer. “Okay. I can wait until you are.”

I force out a dry laugh. “Well, it’s your time to waste.”

“Nothing about you or for you is wasting time.”

I squeeze my eyes shut. “Brax…”

“I’m sorry. I don’t want to upset you, so I’m gonna leave now. But I’ll try every day to seek your forgiveness—and find a way to prove I’m in no way complicit in Chelsea writing you that scathing review. I’m not ready to give up on us, Joey. I don’t know if I ever will be.”

I turn my back on him, and I hear him leave.

I’ve selected four of my large canvas paintings to include in the North Coast Regional Art Exhibition starting in three days, in addition to six of my smaller ones. Emory, Cutie and I are going to set up the Pies’ barn today, and I thought I’d put up mine already so I won’t need to go back in there until the exhibition.

Truth is, I want to avoid Brax. All the other artists can hang up their paintings from tomorrow. I don’t know when Brax plans to go there to put up Ollie’s artwork, but I’d rather not take any chances of bumping into him.

I need to use Moonstruck Chocolatier’s van to transport the paintings, so I make my way to the shop’s kitchen to grab the keys.

I walk in, and I almost stumble. “What are you doing here?” I ask Brax.

He gapes at me as if he’s a thirsty man trying to drink me in. “I’m just handing over a report,” he says.

Dad waves the document in his hand. “Brax has put together his thoughts regarding our business in this document. He’s done some in-depth reporting on our business health and projected revenues including worst-case scenarios, and he’s added his advice on how we could negotiate with buyers such as Teews so we come out on top. His take is that our future looks rosy if we continue with our original plans—as long as we keep working on countering Chelsea’s mean-spirited review.”

Mum nods. “Brax also pointed out that some of our loyal buyers are coming out, posting their own reviews on their social media accounts. I even recognised some of them—tourists who bought from us a few years back and continue to order online. It’s very heartwarming to see we have supporters around the world, too.”

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