A Bouquet of Love Read Free Page B

superhero cape.
    Several blocks down from our store I located Patti-Lou’s Petals. The bell jangled as I walked inside the quaint little shop. I paused, overwhelmed as I took it all in. The colors captivated me at once. Vibrant red roses, the color of Mama’s lipstick. Shimmering yellow tulips, bright as the afternoon sun. Fuchsia gerberas. Orange gladiolas. Golden Asiatic lilies. I found them all in this gorgeous shop, and so much more.
    My gaze traveled from the refrigerated bouquets in the large showroom case to the shelves, which housed all sorts of pretties, including flower girl baskets, greeting cards, ready-to-go bouquets, packets of seeds, yard art, and much more. Talk about variety.
    The bell jangled behind me, and I moved out of the way as a handsome guy—tall with dark hair and broad shoulders—carried in buckets of roses. Wowza. A girl could get used to working with a guy like that. He wasn’t the blonde, blue-eyed, boy-next-door type I’d known in Santa Cruz, but he definitely held some appeal.
    Okay, more than a little appeal. His broad shoulders filled the white T-shirt he wore. My gaze traveled up to his handsome face, bronzed by wind and sun. The firm set of his chin suggested a stubborn streak, and the half smile, a definite joy of life. My kind of guy. And it didn’t hurt the picture at all when his muscles rippled underneath the T-shirt.
    Look away, Cassia ! It’s rude to stare!
    But how could I help myself? Something about him seemed . . . familiar.
    Might be better to focus on the flowers.
    I walked over to the refrigerated case and peered through the glass doors at the beautiful bouquets and arrangements inside.
    Well stocked. Check.
    Behind the counter, a harried-looking woman waited on a customer whose smile was as bright as the golden daffodils the woman wrapped in delicate green paper. She thanked the elderly gentleman for his order as she took his credit card.
    Great customer service. Check.
    The man who’d made the purchase turned my way to show off the bundle of springtime flowers. “The secret to a long, happy marriage. I buy a bundle of these every week.” He gave me a nod and bounded from the shop.
    Happy customers. Check.
    The woman behind the counter still looked a little frazzled. She hollered something at a teenage boy and then gave some instructions to the muscular guy delivering the flowers, whose name, I learned, was Alex Rigas. I stepped out of his way as he came back through with another bucketful of roses and found myself swept away by those heavenly brown eyes.
    Familiar eyes.
    Oh, wow. The guy from the trolley. No way.
    Those gorgeous eyes met mine for a quick glance, and Ifelt the edges of my lips curl up. Not that any sane twenty-three-year-old single girl would blame me. This guy oozed Southern charm and good looks. And did I mention the muscular physique?
    Hello, handsome .
    I cleared my throat and prayed I hadn’t just said that out loud.
    Focus, Cassia, focus.
    The woman behind the counter finished waiting on another customer and then turned to me. “Can I help you?”
    â€œOh yes.” If I could just get my hands to stop trembling. I felt like a kid standing in front of the school principal.
    The woman glanced at her watch, then her gaze traveled to the clock on the wall before looking at me again. With my courage now rising, I dove right in. “I saw your ad on the side of the trolley,” I explained. “And I love working with flowers. I’ve only been on the island a couple of weeks, but I really want to—”
    â€œYou’re here about the job?” Before I could respond, she clasped her hands together and ushered up something in another language—maybe Italian?—and her eyes misted over. “Oh, thank God! I thought I’d never get anyone. The timing couldn’t be any better. Praise the Lord and pass the pruning shears!”
    â€œOh? Well, that’s good. Would