Page 87 of Lucy Loves Him Not
Me
I cannot believe how you guys just say things like they’re facts. We cannot know if he is staying or not.
Ipulled the blankets over my head in the blurry morning light. I desperately wanted to talk to Adam about his job offer, but I was a terrible liar and knew he’d read the sadness all over my face. I would be the opposite of supportive and empathetic toward his needs. I’d be tempted to ask him toplease staywhile blinking away tears.
There was a crease between Adam’s eyes when he wanted to discuss something—when something was on his mind. A way he leaned into the conversation. The night he told me about the job offer, he’d pulledawayfrom the conversation. He’d closed his eyes to it.
We had one more day until the festival.I can easily busy myself with work today and avoid any serious talks withAdam, I thought to myself, right before a message popped up on my phone.
Adam
Hey there. We have one last research trip. I’ll be at your place to pick you up in thirty.
We arrived at Scheller Farms on the outskirts of Sweet River, which boasted rolling hills of bright flowers as the late morning sun yawned across the sky. The soft dirt crunched under my white sneakers as we made our way across the field.
“Scheller Farms is going to run the build-your-own bouquet idea we had. They had their own version of it already called Bucket of Blooms. At their booth, you can grab a bucket and fill it with your choice of flowers, or, you know, blooms.” Adam and I walked side by side on the dirt path leading toward the small cabin-like offices in the middle of all the bursts of petals and colors.
“Bucket o’ blooms,” I said in a sing-songy voice.
“The owner, Ruth, wanted us to come and see the farm in person to choose our flower options,” Adam explained. In the sun his blue eyes were rippling ocean waves. “And I wanted one last research trip.”
One last…It was like a bullet in my skin. I rubbed my arm like I could comfort myself physically from the emotional sting.
Before I could respond, a woman wearing a wide-brimmed sun hat walked toward us. “Howdy,” she shouted as she made her way to us.
“Hi, there.” Adam bridged the distance, offering his hand to shake. Hers was tan and rough from working in the sun. “I’m Adam. We’ve spoken on the phone.”
“Adam, welcome to our farm! And who do we have here?” She turned to me.
“I’m Lucy Rhodes,” I said. “This,” I gestured to the bright fields around me, “is stunning.”
“I think so, too. My husband is a third-generation family farmer and I’d been dreaming of adding flowers to our cotton for decades. I’m the happiest flower farmer…each bloom grown with love.”
“We can’t wait to have your flowers at the festival,” Adam said.
“Well, I’m glad I could win you over to have more than just daisies!” Ruth teased with a wide smile.
I glanced between the two of them confused, asking, “Daisies?”
Adam’s cheeks went red.
“Yeah, I thought it was funny that Adam had asked on our first call if we could have a booth of only daisies. I told himI could, but I thought people would much prefer variety. Plus, we’re known for our hand-picked Bucket of Blooms we deliver to people each month.” She then looked at Adam. “You’re a daisy lover, huh?”
I turned to Adam as we followed behind Ruth. “Daisies, huh?” Only minutes earlier, I’d been twirling the daisy on his dashboard around in my fingers while on the drive here.
Adam’s cheeks were still flushed. “I didn’t think Ruth would out me like that.”
“I’ve noticed the daisies,” I said, my voice low only for the two of us. “In your office, in your car…”
“They make you smile,” he said simply. “So, I want them everywhere.”
Hemade me smile. Daisies had nothing on Adam. He was a natural at getting under my skin, for better or worse.
“Obsessed with me?” I cocked my head.
“Actually,” he chuckled, “you’ve got me wondering that myself.”
We toured the ranch with Ruth. In the middle of a stormy, busy week, it was a pocket of sunshine. It wasn’t a technical date, but the way Adam and I laughed easily, took pictures, and talked about everything (except the question pulsing in the back of my mind), it felt like our own version of a date.
