Page 25 of Hoax and Kisses
“Pine Falls is magic like that,” Lola says softly. “That’s why it’s always packed during tourist season. It has a way of pulling you in and forcing you to take a break from your life.” She places the book in a tote bag and holds it out to me. “And who wouldn’t want to escape for a bit, huh?”
With a grateful nod, I take it. “I guess you’re right.”
Maybe it’s the town, or maybe it’s Lola’s easy confidence, but this moment feels important. I just can’t put my finger on why.
“Thanks for the book and the chat,” I say as I head for the door. “Andfor introducing me to a new genre.”
Lola grins. “Oh, sweetie. You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.”
Something stirs in my gut, as if her lighthearted comment struck true. She doesn’t know the half of it.
My last stop of the day, according to Rosie’s list, is Daphne’s Wildflowers. When I pause in front of it, I suck in a breath. It’s beautiful.
The expansive windows built into the lavender-painted wood façade are decorated with dozens of carefully arranged flowers. The shop’s name is written on one of the windows in cursive lettering, partially covered by a waterfall of ivy.
Outside, in front of the entrance on the cobblestone street, there’s a chalkboard sign with a neatly handwritten message.
Bouquet of the day: Wildflower Daze.
Phone out, I snap a photo of the store with the chalkboard sign and send it to Mom.
Zoey
Seems like a store right up your alley.
She reacts to the photo with exclamation points.
Mom
You have to send me the address! I’ll stop by when I get home from Norway.
Leaving tonight for my research seminar and won’t be reachable for the next few weeks. Hope your dad isn’t being too hard on you. Love you, honey.
I send her a heart and lock my phone. At fifty-five, my mom still strives to learn more about her passions. I admire her so much for it. To be honest, I wish I were more like her in that department.
When I push the boutique’s door open, I’m greeted by the soft ambient music playing and a multitude of scents wafting through the space. But the sight in front of me is what stops me in my tracks. With his back to me, working on a bouquet at a table behind the counter, a leather apron wrapped around his waist, is a tall man with dark blond hair tied into a bun.
Oh, god. I’d recognize that hair anywhere.
I freeze for a moment, my heart racing against my ribs, my throat dry. Then I finally croak, “Matt?”
He snaps upright and spins around, his mouth hanging open. “Zoey? Wh-what are you doing here?”
“Taking a stroll. What areyoudoing here? Do you work at the store?”
He removes his gloves, sets them on the table, and I’m definitely not staring at the way his sleeves are rolled up at his forearms. Or how his hands grip the edge of the counter when he comes to stand in front of me. Seeing them in person afterdreaming about them for the past week is hitting me harder than I expected. Damn it.
“This is my store.”
I snap my attention to his face. “YouownDaphne’s Wildflowers?”
A glint of amusement dances in his irises. “I do. Are you surprised?”
My chest tightens a fraction. “Yeah. I don’t know. I thought you were more the cutting-wood-in-the-forest type or that you built stuff with your…” I lower my focus to where he’s still gripping the counter, heat rushing to my cheeks. I clear my throat. “Hands.”
Matt follows my gaze. “I get that a lot. But yes, this is my shop, and I’m the florist.” He nods at the flowers on the table. “Would you like a bouquet? I don’t usually take same-day orders, but I’ll make an exception for you.” He punctuates that sentence with a wink, and my pulse skips.
I have a hard time maintaining my composure around him, and it’s becoming an actual problem.
