Chapter 2

Madeleine Kennedy tamped down her mounting frustration and laid another open lookbook on top of the existing stack of flower catalogues in front of her client.

“What about sunflowers?” Maddie indicated the stunning example arrangements on the oversized glossy pages. “Those are always stunning, and they’d be perfect for an autumn wedding.”

The pretty woman on the other side of the round table tucked a long blond lock behind her ear and pulled the book toward her, eyeing the arrangements with interest.

“I do like sunflowers.” Delanie Fletcher flipped a few pages, biting her lip. “But wouldn’t they be a bit too, um, gaudy? I was hoping for something more understated and classic.” She turned to the grey-eyed, dark-haired woman beside her. “What do you think, Steph?”

Stephanie Neufeld, Delanie’s maid of honour, leaned closer to peer at the pages, considering the arrangements. After Delanie had already shot down every suggestion either Maddie or Steph had made, Maddie couldn’t blame her for thinking twice before offering another opinion.

“These are nice,” Steph said carefully, “but I can see what you mean. What if they clash with your dress?”

“It would help if I already knew what it looked like.” Delanie sighed. “Maybe I should wait to decide anything until after our trip this weekend.” She glanced up at Maddie. “Steph and I are heading to Vancouver this weekend to shop for my dress, staying with my other bestie-slash-bridesmaid. Girls’ trip!” She turned to her friend, brightening. “I forgot to tell you—Marie texted this morning that her new roommate is away on a shoot, so we’ll have the place to ourselves. I can’t wait for you to see my old apartment, and meet my friends! Marie’s got some dinner thing set up at one of my favourite restaurants for Saturday night.” She got a dreamy look. “I can taste their honey-lavender glazed salmon now. Steph, we’re going to live.”

Steph gave her a reserved but genuine smile. “I’m sure we will. I’m looking forward to meeting Marie in person.”

“Me, too!” Delanie grinned. “You’re going to adore each other.”

Maddie had known both of these women for most of their lives—they’d all been in the same grade in school, though Maddie hadn’t been close with either of them—and she knew Steph wasn’t what you’d call a “people person.” But she seemed to be playing her role as supportive best friend well, especially now that Delanie had moved back to Peace Crossing and was marrying her high school sweetheart, Caleb Toews. In fact, Delanie’s life seemed charmed. Her acting career was taking off—she’d mentioned her new gig hosting a heartwarming reality show about Canadian community theatre. She’d been making connections and putting down roots in the community. And when Delanie had returned to town in September, she and single dad Caleb seemed to have picked up almost exactly where they’d left off a decade ago, announcing their engagement over the Christmas holidays.

Maddie pushed aside a twinge of jealousy. Was it fair that Delanie had been absent for most of the past ten years and landed her Prince Charming within months of returning to the town Maddie had never left? No. But that didn’t mean Maddie would give up hope of finding a prince of her own. Even if most of the guys she’d kissed so far had turned out to be frogs after all . . . like Sam, the guy who’d recently dumped her just before Christmas to take another woman on the holiday vacation they’d been planning. That one had stung.

She glanced at Steph and blushed. Her own high school boyfriend, Noel Butler, had recently started dating Steph, and they seemed perfectly happy. So just because a guy was a dud for her didn’t mean he wasn’t someone else’s dream man.

In a weird way, that cheered her up. Maybe I’ll find a prince in someone else’s frog too.

The shop’s front door chimes rang, and Caleb’s voice rang out from somewhere beyond the warren of tightly packed shelves barricading the guest consultation table into the back of Pearl’s Petals.

“Delanie? You in here somewhere?”

“Back here, babe,” she called, then turned to the pile of floral catalogues. “I’m really sorry, Maddie, but I think I’ll need to come back later. This feels like too big a decision to make quickly.”

Caleb appeared from between two display stands, snow already melting into water droplets on his dark brown beard and parka. He surveyed the chaos on the table.

“Any progress?” he asked.

Delanie shook her head. “I’m going to wait. There are so many choices, but nothing seems right.”

Caleb’s eyebrows rose, glancing at one of the open books with popular wedding bouquets on display. “Not even the roses? I thought you wanted red roses.”

Delanie sighed and stood, gathering her purse from the back of her chair. “So did I. But now that I look at them, they just seem so . . . ordinary.”

Maddie drew in a sharp breath. “Ordinary?” She stood stiffly. “That’s one opinion.”

Steph, who’d also stood and was putting on her wool peacoat, cocked her head. “You’re partial to roses, Maddie?”

Maddie swallowed, regretting her show of pique. Roses were her favourite flower, but she didn’t want to go into why here. Not with clients, and especially not with the woman dating the ex she’d only recently forgiven for his past transgressions.

“I am. They’re considered the most romantic flower for a reason.” And it’s my mother’s name. But saying that part aloud would only embarrass Delanie, and she didn’t need to create that kind of conflict. She turned to hide her face, which she was sure was the same shade of red as her hair, and slid her business card from the card holder in the middle of the table before handing it to Delanie. “But you need to choose what feels right for you. Just get in touch when you’re ready to take another look.”

Delanie accepted the card, looking it over. “I definitely will.” She met Maddie’s gaze. “I’m sorry for being such a bridezilla. You’re really great at this, Maddie. No wonder you’ve been managing this place for so long.”

Maddie felt instant remorse for her unkind thoughts, her face warming for a different reason. She was terrible at accepting compliments. “Uh, don’t mention it. And trust me, you’re nowhere near bridezilla level.” She gave Delanie a warm smile. “Don’t worry. I’ll help you find the perfect thing.”

Delanie smiled, then exchanged warm glances with Caleb. He placed a hand on her waist, and gave his fiancee a look so smitten that Maddie’s jealous twinge returned.

“You ready to go then?” he said. “Emma’s piano lesson is almost done, and we need to get over there to pick her up.”

“Uh-huh.” Delanie gave Maddie another look and held up the card. “Thanks, Maddie. I’ll be in touch again soon.”

“Looking forward to it.”

Maddie watched Caleb, Delanie, and Steph trail out of the store. Then she busied herself tidying the table, trying to squelch her dejected thoughts. She’d just returned the flower catalogues to the shelf along the wall when Hannah, the girl watching the floor, popped her head around the corner of the aisle.

“I’m off. You need anything else before I leave?”

Maddie smiled. “No, I’m good. See you tomorrow?”

“Yep, I’m on the schedule.” Hannah turned to head to gather her things from the back room, then paused. “Oh, I almost forgot. I put a flower order next to the till. He paid extra to have it delivered out of town. I told him Yves was out sick so it’d have to be later, but he said after-hours delivery was even better for him.”

Maddie winced internally. As much as she didn’t begrudge their delivery guy the extended leave he’d requested, she wished Pearl would hire a temp to replace him. The last thing she wanted to do after a full day was deliveries—especially on the days her mom wasn’t doing well. She’d leave her boss another note.

“Okay, great. Thanks, Hannah.”

Maddie made her way toward the front counter of the gift shop, moving carefully to avoid accidentally bumping a display case or breaking a porcelain figurine along the narrow aisle. As much as she loved working here, and loved Pearl, she wished for the umpteenth time her boss would cut down on stock a bit so they could make the space less crowded . . . and more modern. Pearl always insisted her overflowing, crowded shelves made the shop feel like a treasure hunt for the customers, like a game. Maddie had pointed out that it also made the shop a serious hazard for a different kind of gamer—namely the children who thought it was fun to play tag around breakables—but Pearl had just winked and told her that teaching kids respect for fragile things was a public service.

Maddie wasn’t convinced. She’d spent her entire life dodging disaster in this place, first as a high school part-timer, now as de facto manager. But she was too grateful for this job to make too many waves. She and her mom both needed it too much.

When she got to the front, there was a middle-aged woman waiting for someone to ring her through. Maddie made chit-chat while she scanned the woman’s books and a kitchen gadget, the use of which she didn’t comprehend, then wished the woman a Happy New Year before she left the shop in a bluster of cool air. It was a sunny afternoon outside, but sun in a northern Alberta winter did not mean warmth.

After the woman left, Maddie set about refolding tissue paper and reorganizing the impulse-buy chocolates and greeting cards. In the tropical section of the store, she spotted a small watermelon peperomia she knew her mom would adore—sweet round leaves striped silver against deep green, cheerful and easy to care for. Perfect. She tucked it behind the counter with a mental note to ring it through before closing, then went back to tidying shelves.

She was halfway through aligning a row of “I Chews You” pun candy bags when the bells above the door jangled again. This time the sharp wind off the street brought in the singular presence of Dr. Justin Ross.

He was, as always, too tall for the entryway, and his hair—freshly tousled by the wind—made him look like he’d just come off a GQ cover shoot instead of an overnight ER rotation. His parka was unzipped over a navy Henley and jeans, which looked like they’d been tailored to him specifically—and probably had, Maddie thought. The man had a face that would make you believe in angels, if angels were named Loki. He flicked a glance around the shop, saw her at the counter, and gave a grin so wide, it could have been insurable.

“Ms. Kennedy, just the person I hoped to see.” He leaned against the counter, close enough she could catch the faintest scent of expensive aftershave beneath the usual clinic antiseptic. He absently fingered a thank you card from the on-counter display stand. “Tell me you have something in stock that says, ‘You’re a wonderful person, but I’m a rogue who cannot be tamed.’”

She tried not to smile. “That’s a rather specific greeting card. Not sure Hallmark’s gone that niche.”

Justin’s green-eyed gaze flickered to the “I Chews You” display, and he picked up a bag, tilting his head. “That’s, uh, different. Some people really go in for this kind of cheese, huh?”

“Not everyone thinks they can charm any girl off their feet with flowers.”

“But they’re so effective. Women love flowers. Especially roses.”

Tell that to Delanie Fletcher. “Not all women.”

“But you do, right?” He leaned in, grinning. “What kind of flowers would make your heart beat faster, Kennedy?”

She caught her breath, her pulse stammering, transfixed by his gaze despite herself. Justin Ross was not only their handsomest customer, he was also their most regular. And she could always tell what stage his latest relationship was in by the flowers he ordered—red when he was wooing someone, pink when he was apologizing, and yellow when he was over it. Despite how frequently he went through that cycle, he was exactly the kind of charming she would have once fallen for. But she’d gotten tired of dating men who were there for a good time, not a long time. After she and Noel had buried the hatchet over Christmas, she’d made a New Year’s resolution to turn over a new leaf. No more frogs, no matter how convincing their little crowns were.

She glanced away and pursed her lips. “Not roses,” she lied. “Have you considered break-up chocolates?”

“I was hoping for something less edible. Maybe in the floral family?”

She arched an eyebrow. “So the usual, then?”

His smile widened. “Yellow roses. One dozen, long-stemmed, and—” he squinted theatrically at the ceiling, “—could you wrap them in that brown Kraft paper with the twine bow, not the tissue and ribbon? It should say, ‘You’re special, but also, I am emotionally unavailable.’”

Maddie snorted. “That’s a very nuanced message for a floral arrangement. Should I include a card, or would you prefer to compose a sonnet on the receipt again?”

He gave her a look of mock hurt, then amusement. “I thought last time’s verse was poignant. Maybe you could write something?”

She shook her head, already reaching for the blank note cards under the till. She placed the card and a pen in front of him. “You can write it yourself. I’m not getting involved in your crimes against poetry.”

He picked up the pen, absently twirling it between his fingers. The familiar smile faltered. “You know you’re the only one in town who doesn’t fall for my lines.”

“I take pride in my immunity,” she replied, pulling cellophane sleeves and bouquet tape from the shelf. “Besides, it takes more than a pretty face and a deep pocket to impress me.”

“Harsh.” The pen stopped spinning. “But fair.” Justin wrote something in a quick, scrawling hand, then shoved the card back across the counter with a sheepish glance. “Just out of curiosity, though, what would it take?”

Maddie grabbed a vase from the shelf and began prepping the roses, noting they were beginning to lose their crispness at the outer edges. “For me?” She paused in her work, giving it honest thought. “A man who means what he says, and who can go at least a month without making a grand romantic gesture for someone he’s just met.” She returned to arranging the stems with brisk efficiency. “It’s not brain surgery.”

“Ouch.” He winced. “You wound me, Kennedy.”

“Not as much as you wound the entire female population of Peace Crossing every time you move on to the next one.” She paused, then softened her voice. “But I will say, you’re a very good tipper.”

“See, flattery works when you do it.” Justin propped his elbows on the counter and watched her work. “I do have to ask. Are you always this brutal with everyone, or just me?”

“Just you.” She trimmed another stem with a satisfying snap and tucked it in the vase, then met his gaze. “You’re just so fun to argue with.” She smirked.

Justin’s grin returned, brighter this time, and he watched as she gave the bouquet some final tweaks. “Well, if I ever decide to change my ways, you’ll be the first to know.”

“Forgive me if I don’t hold my breath.” Maddie wrapped the stems and twisted the twine into a rustic bow, then slid the bouquet across the counter with a flourish worthy of a gameshow hostess. “One dozen ‘I hope we can still be friends’ roses, just for you.”

He paid with his debit card, then took the bouquet in both hands. His green eyes grew mischievous. “You know, if you ever get tired of working here, you’d make a fantastic school principal. Or maybe a therapist. You don’t take any nonsense.”

“Funny, my mother says the same thing. She claims I’d be good at ‘telling people what’s wrong with them.’” Maddie smiled wryly, but the words stung more than she wanted to admit.

“Actually, I think you’d be wasted anywhere but here.” His gaze hovered on her face, a split second too long, something almost genuine flickering there. “How is your mom, by the way?”

Maddie paused. Justin may be a playboy, but he was also her mother’s family doctor—and he took his job seriously, if not his dating life. “Good. About the same as the last time you saw her.”

His gaze sharpened. “And how are you?”

Unexpected tears hitched in the back of her throat, and she swallowed. When she spoke, a slight tremble was the only indication of the sudden swell of emotion. She gave him a small smile. “Good enough. Thanks for asking.”

He gave a satisfied nod. “You’re a survivor, Kennedy. That’s your superpower.” He glanced at the arrangement in his hands, the mischief returning to his eyes. “Well, one of them. Thanks for another rescue. I owe you one.”

“Only one?” She grinned, relieved to back off of the heavier topics before she broke down right there at the counter.

He chuckled and made his exit, shouldering the door open and whistling off-key. The chimes jangled in his wake, and Maddie wondered—fleetingly—what it would be like to be the recipient of one of his red-rose bouquets. To have that kind of smiling, easy confidence aimed at her and only her.

She shook it off. That wasn’t the kind of love she wanted, not anymore. She wanted someone who would stick around when things got messy, who’d go the extra mile for the people he cared about rather than just dazzling them with charm and then disappearing in a puff of aftershave and regret. She wanted what Delanie and Caleb had. Or, as much as it burned, what Steph and Noel had found, once all the mess and history had been cleared away.

She glanced at the clock. Closing time. She locked the door and dimmed the shop lights, switching to autopilot. Straighten shelves, note the stock in the cooler, count the till. The familiar rhythm steadied her heartbeat.

Routine before romance. Duty before daydreams.

For now, at least, it was enough.