Page 39 of Ashes of the Past
“Just give him a chance to help,” she says softly.
I nod, and we continue our drive into town. My daughter is extremely wise for her age. Sometimes, I feel really guilty about that, too. She’s seen things no child should ever have to see, but she’s also been forced to grow up faster than most girls her age because of those things.
“Mama?” Olivia asked as she came into the kitchen carrying her favorite stuffed unicorn and wiping the sleep out of her eyes. “I…I heard glass breaking.”
“Go back to bed now, you little brat!” Clay had screamed at her.
He lunged for her, and I moved so quickly to intercept her. I grabbed her up in my arms, thinking that he wouldn’t attack me while I was holding her, but I was wrong. He swung at me, I ducked, and Olivia and I both went down.
He tried to get to her, screaming, “You’re a dumb bitch, and I won’t allow my daughter near you!”
I did everything I could to get away when I was finally able to run out the door with my daughter. If it hadn’t been for the owner of the rodeo show walking by at the same time, I don’t know what would have happened to us.
Lost in my thoughts, I drop Olivia off at school and then drive the short distance to my flower shop. I unlock the back doorand push it open, balancing my oversized tote and a fresh cup of coffee in one hand while fumbling with the keys in the other. The morning light streams through the front windows, catching on the rows of vases and pots that line the shelves, making them glint like little jewels.
I step inside and take a deep breath. The familiar scent of roses, eucalyptus, and freshly cut stems washes over me, and for a moment, I forget the stress of the morning. Just as quickly as I do, the feel of Jack’s mouth against mine comes crashing into my head.
My entire body heats up, warmth pulling between my thighs. I shake my head and set my coffee down on the counter.
No. I’m not doing this right now.
The shop is quiet, but it won’t stay that way for long. Hicks Creek might be small, but people here love their flowers. Weddings, birthdays, funerals—there’s always something to celebrate or mourn. And even though running a small business in a town like this isn’t easy, I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
I grab my apron from the hook on the wall and tie it around my waist, the motion as familiar as breathing. The to-do list I scrawled on a sticky note last night is waiting for me by the register. Three arrangements for the church luncheon, a birthday bouquet for Mrs. Callahan, and a dozen wrapped roses for Garrett to take to Maya.
I smile to myself as I pull the first bucket of flowers from the cooler. Mrs. Callahan always insists on sunflowers for her birthday, and I love how they brighten up the shop with their golden faces. I get to work trimming stems and arranging them in a cheerful ceramic vase, my hands moving on autopilot.
But no matter how hard I try, I can’t keep my mind from wandering back to Jack.
The way his mouth felt on mine. The heat of his body pressed against me. The way his hands—rough from years of ranch work—were surprisingly gentle.
I stab a sunflower into the foam a little harder than necessary.
“Stop it,” I mutter under my breath. “You don’t even like him.”
Which is true. Or at least, it should be true. Jack is arrogant, cocky, and infuriating. The kind of man who thinks he can tell me what to do just because he’s got a slow drawl and a cowboy hat. And yet…
I sigh and step back from the arrangement, tilting my head to study it. It’s not quite right. I pull out a stem of baby’s breath and replace it with a sprig of eucalyptus, the soft scent filling the air.
That’s better.
The bell above the door jingles, and I glance up to see Mrs. Callahan herself bustling in, her gray hair tucked under a wide-brimmed hat.
“Morning, Brynn!” she calls, her voice as warm as ever.
“Morning, Mrs. Callahan. You’re here early.”
“Couldn’t wait to see what you whipped up for me this year.”
I grin and carry the arrangement over to her. “What do you think?”
Her face lights up as she takes it in. “Oh, Brynn, it’s perfect. You always know just what I like.”
Moments like this make all the stress worth it. Seeing the joy on her face, knowing I’ve made her day a little brighter—it’s why I do what I do.
You coming by for lunch?
Rachel asks in a text message. My best friend owns the café in town and I’m there for lunch almost every day. I immediatelyreply with a yes before putting my phone down and finishing up my work.
