Page 39 of Someone to Hold
“You look fucking perfect, but take your time.” I can’t help myself as I lean in and steal one last kiss from her full mouth. “We’ve got time, sweetheart, and we’re going to make the most of it.”
Her eyes widen, but she doesn’t argue. That’s enough for now. A small victory, but a victory just the same.
This isn’t what I expected from my time at the farm, I think as I jog down the gravel driveway. It’s not smart for either of us,especially not given that my deal with Linda and Molly’s plan for her future are in direct opposition to each other.
But I’m a man who made his living climbing on the back of angry bulls. You don’t get much more opposition than that. If I can handle the rodeo circuit, I can handle the complications of my growing feelings for my former best friend’s widow. And there’s no doubt that the risk will be worth the reward when it comes to Molly McAllister.
13
MOLLY
The next afternoon,Chase is busy helping a friend move some cattle or a horse or something equally cowboy-coded, so I text my friend group to ask for a ride to The Roasted Sky, my favorite coffee shop.
I’m heading into town for a meeting with a bride who wants me to design a bouquet and the table centerpieces for her upcoming wedding. It’s different than what I normally do with the flowers I grow, and my first inclination was to refer her to the local florist who handles almost all the special events in town. But apparently, they referred her to me because my aesthetic aligns with her vision.
I didn’t even know I have an aesthetic, but who am I to deny it?
This is the new me. The one who will build a good life for my kids. Not just for them, but for me as well.
However, even new me can’t pretend yesterday afternoon didn’t mean anything, or that it’s not a big deal that Chase and I kissed and stuff.
The good kind of stuff.
If I close my eyes, I can still feel the heat of his touch. And I want more.
I’m terrified that makes me a fool, but I can’t seem to turn off my yearning. Last night and this morning, Chase did his best to keep himself busy with the kids and the farm without talking directly to me. Like he wanted to pretend yesterday never happened. So that’s what I did, too. Because I’m very good at pretending.
Although he apologized profusely for being unavailable today, a little part of me thinks it was another excuse to avoid me.
But I don’t have to pretend anything at my meeting. It’s nice to be seen and appreciated. The bride, Mariel, shows me her inspiration board, and I share ideas for her bridal bouquet and the mason jars of cut flowers she wants on each table.
Mariel is from Nebraska and has flown in for a few days with her mom to plan the wedding. They have the kind of close relationship and easy camaraderie I’ve always envied.
Life with my mother wasn’t easy. I was five when she overdosed, and I still wonder whether it was accidental, like my grandparents told me. Or did life—and me—become too much for her?
“Once you choose the date and secure a venue, we’ll be able to plan in more detail.” The bride is the same age as me, but seems years younger.
She offers a weak smile. “I hope I can find a venue that’s both available and affordable. I didn’t realize how expensive getting married would be, especially with a short planning window.”
Her hand drifts to rest on her still-flat belly, and I understand. This isn’t just about a wedding. They’re getting ready for another new chapter of life. She mentioned earlier that she and her fiancé had been planning a long engagement, but finding out she was pregnant sped up the timeline. I remember that urgency, the mix of joy and uncertainty.
“I’m so grateful we found you. Your flowers are so beautiful and…” She laughs softly. “I can actually afford them.”
“I’m getting an expanded version of my business off the ground,” I tell her with a smile that comes easily. “So I appreciate you giving me a shot. If you need an affordable venue, you could host the ceremony and reception at the farm,” I offer before I think better of it.
“You do events?” Hope brightens her eyes.
I swallow hard. “I’ve been planning to expand the business to include events.” By plan, I mean the idea popped into my head a few seconds earlier. But it’s still a plan. And Linda doesn’t have to know.
“You’d have to rent linens and tables. I don’t have a liquor license, so?—”
“That’s okay,” she says.
Her mother seems less certain. “Do you have any experience hosting events?” she asks, one brow raised like she already knows the answer.
“I’ve been focused on the flowers,” I say. “But I’m buying the property from my mother-in-law to more readily expand my offerings.” I sound surer of myself this time. “The farm is truly beautiful. I think you’d love it.”
“This would solve everything.” Mariel shares a look with her mother.
