Page 1 of A Vine Mess
FOUR YEARS BEFORE THE TRIP
The people of thistown really had to stop giving me dirty looks when I walked down the street.
I wasn’t some big scary dude like the residents of Apple Blossom Bay tried to pretend. I was simply…reclusive. I kept my head down, lived on the fringes of town, and was content to spend the bulk of my time alone amid the rows of vines at Chateau Delatou where I worked.
But they judged me anyway. Because of my size—six-four and broad shouldered. Because of the tattoos taking up real estate on my arms. Because of my lumberjack beard and the flannels I frequently wore that really drove the whole image home.
I couldn’t control the way I looked. I kept the beard both because I hated shaving and because I looked about ten years younger than my actual age of thirty without it. My hair was perpetually in need of a cut, and I kept it out of my face with ball caps. Flannels were a good way to ward off the chill of the coolerMichigan months—though, at the moment, it was mid-July so I only had on a black cotton tee—as were the faded jeans and scuffed Wolverine work boots I favored. All of it was designed for practicality. I was an efficient man, and the last thing I needed was the chaos of trying to pick out what to wear in the morning or how to style my hair.
All that to say…I supposed I could see where the townspeople were coming from. But I wasn’t a bad guy. I just enjoyed my solitude.
I came into town on very rare occasions, and today was one of my boss’s birthdays, which warranted a trip to the flower shop. I’d been living in Apple Blossom Bay for over a year now and working for the Delatou family at their winery for nearly as long, but I’d never set foot in the place.
Upon pushing open the door, I was greeted with high, sweet notes of numerous florals, and I resisted the urge to sneeze. I scrunched my nose and rubbed at it with the back of my hand as I moved further onto the showroom floor, eyes scanning for the perfect gift for Lena.
The tinkling of the door bell alerted a worker to my arrival, because a moment later, a young woman appeared from the back.
Time slowed to a crawl as she breezed toward me, and I was struck speechless, my mouth gaping.
Without a doubt, she was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. Long, dark hair piled atop her head in a messy bun, little pink tendrils falling free and framing her face. She wore a little slip of a sundress in a pale yellow, decorated with vibrantly colored flowers that offset her olive skin beautifully. The daintystraps were tied into bows over her delicate shoulders, and tattoos randomly dotted her arms.
Instantly, I was intrigued. By the sudden rush of desire I experienced. By her soft, welcoming presence, startlingly gorgeous face, and the random assortment of ink decorating her skin. By the way everything around me seemed to click into place.
I hadn’t wanted anyone that way in a long ass time.
“Hi,” she said brightly. “What can I help you with?”
“Hi,” I responded gruffly, then cleared my throat and tried again. “Hello. I’m hoping you could help me pick out a birthday gift for my boss.”
The woman’s brow raised toward her hairline. “Do you always buy flowers for your boss?”
“What?” I asked, instantly picking up on her meaning. “No. It’s not like that. She’s a happily married woman and about twice my age. I just…she and her husband have done a lot for me, and I wanted to thank her by getting her favorite flowers.”
Her brow drooped and her face slackened, mouth popping open slightly. “You’re Liam.”
“I…yes?” It came out as more of a question. Despite the fact that it was a small town, as previously mentioned, I didn’t get out much, and I’d definitely remember if I’d laid eyes onherbefore.
“You know…it’s my mom’s birthday today too. AndLena”—she emphasized the name with a knowing look, and I realized with a jolt that I was looking at one of my bosses’ daughters—“loves peonies.”
With a wink, the woman weaved through the display tables until she stood behind the counter, where the thirty-foot wall was lined with coolers holding various buckets of blooms. Sheapproached one and slid the door open, reaching in and emerging with three separate flowers. One pink, one white, one purple. Then she turned to me again.
“These three would look great in a bouquet with some greenery. I can put them in one of the milk can vases,” she said, gesturing to the row of tins modeled to look like old school milk cans.
“Great,” I croaked, swallowing hard. I suddenly had no idea what to do with myself. This woman—whose name I had yet to learn—was my bosses’ daughter, which meant I needed to stay as far away as possible lest I wanted to lose my job…or worse. Still, I couldn’t ignore the way my skin prickled in her presence, like she was meant to be in my life. But maybe that’s all I was experiencing. The knowledge that she was going to be in my life because I was employed by her family and nothing more.
So why was that thought so goddamn depressing?
Admittedly, I’d been floating through life for a while. Basically since I’d left Portland, my previous job, and my ill-fated relationship in favor of a new life away from the pressure, drama, and expectations of people who had known me forever.
And then this woman appeared like a goddamn magical garden fairy and turned my entire world upside down in a flash. For a moment there, I’d been…almost excited. Excited for the future, for exploring this impossible, inexplicable, and immediate connection I felt for her. But it was all doused by the realization that her parents were my bosses, and her father would murder me if I broke his cardinal rule.
I liked my head attached to my body. And breathing. Definitely enjoyed breathing.
The woman canted her head to the side, studying me, beforegiving me a little nod and going about building the arrangement for her mom. I watched as she worked, rapt by the way her long, delicate fingers maneuvered the scissors to snip the stems just right, how they patiently stuck them in the vase until they were arranged to her satisfaction.
We didn’t speak as she worked. In fact, I stood there like a statue with my clammy hands shoved deep in my pockets, shoulders bunched up around my ears like I’d suddenly forgotten how to speak to people and didn’t know what to do with my body.
But this woman…she wasn’t just anyone. Inherently, I knew that. And while I wanted to make a good impression, my awkwardness told me I was failing miserably.
