Page 39 of Stuck with Doctor Grump

“Hi,” she said, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “For those of you who don’t know me, I’m Ruby Shea, which basically means I’ve probably dropped a flower bucket near you at some point.”

Laughter rippled through the room.

She smiled. Real, this time.

“When I came back to Cedar Springs, I didn’t think I’d stay long. I thought I’d fix up the shop, maybe heal a little, then get out before anyone noticed the glitter in my hair or the fact that I talk to plants.”

More laughter.

“But you did notice. And instead of shoving me out, this town opened its arms. You showed up. Again, and again. For flowers, for hugs, for gossip and cookies. And last week, when disaster hit my shop… you didn’t just show up. You held me together.”

Her voice wavered. She looked out at the crowd, then down at her shoes, blinking fast.

“I used to think being a ‘mess’ meant you weren’t enough. But I’ve learned that sometimes, messes bloom into something beautiful. And if you’re lucky, someone sees that beauty even before you do.”

Her eyes flicked to me.

Not long enough for anyone else to notice.

Long enough for me to feel it in my ribs.

The crowd erupted in applause. She curtsied—actually curtsied—and gave an awkward laugh as she left the stage. As she passed me, her hand brushed mine. Deliberate. Barely a whisper of skin.

But it steadied me more than any scalpel ever had.

I watched her melt into a group of guests, cheeks pink, hands fluttering as people praised her speech. I stood back, watching from the edge like I always had.

Only this time, I didn’t feel like an outsider.

I felt like someone trying not to ruin the best thing that had ever happened to him.

And that was new.

And terrifying.

And maybe… worth everything.

The soft hum of a string quartet floated through the courtyard doors, casting notes of something slow and aching into the night air. Inside, couples swayed beneath a sky of fairy lights and tulle, the glow of the gala wrapping everything in gold. But I wasn’t inside.

I was out here—because Ruby was.

I spotted her pacing along the garden path, heels in one hand, her violet dress brushing her ankles like a restless breeze. The moon caught on her bare shoulders. Her braid was unraveling,soft curls escaping around her face. She looked like a fever dream I didn’t know how to wake up from.

She paused when she saw me, shoulders tensing. “You here to dance?” she asked, voice too casual.

“No,” I said honestly, stepping into the light. “I came out to find you.”

Her jaw worked. “Of course. Just in time to almost say something.”

That caught me off guard. “What does that mean?”

She turned to face me fully. “It means you keep almost choosing me, Damien. At the inn. At the shop. In the clinic. You keep getting so close—saying things, touching me like you mean it—and then you pull away like I’m a risk you can’t afford to take.”

I opened my mouth. Nothing came out.

She let out a laugh that was anything but amused. “You know what’s ironic? I was never afraid of you hurting me. I was afraid you’d make me hope again. And you did.”

“Ruby—”

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