Chance to Bloom Read online

  Jack’s eyes went wide again, but Ethan steeled himself against the hurt he saw there and slammed the door shut before either of them could say another word. He crossed in front of the counter, half-expecting—maybe even hoping for—the door to fly open and Jack to come out and tackle him or something. To make him listen. To make it right.

  But Jack didn’t follow him.

  There was no more shouting. No chasing. No tackling. There was just Ethan, stumbling out the front door of the shop and running to his car.

  And then, once he was behind the wheel with his door closed and his seatbelt fastened, there were tears. Lots of tears. Tears for his job—his former job. Tears for the way Gary would have felt about selling his shop. Tears for the fantasy that he’d been living with Jack… the future he’d started to believe they might have together.

  This chapter of his life—some of the happiest times he’d ever known—was over, and no matter what kind of explanation Jack might have, it wouldn’t change one fundamental fact: Jack was still thinking of selling… which meant that Jack didn’t feel the things Ethan did.

  He couldn’t.

  Because if he had?

  Selling just wouldn’t have been an option if Jack had fallen in love with him, too.

  Chapter 18

  Jack

  Jack was stunned. Even the couple of times that Ethan had been upset—even when Ethan had been upset with him—he’d never spoken to Jack that way. Not with that kind of raw hurt and anger. For several seconds, Jack sat in silence, reeling, trying to grasp what had just happened.

  Nope.

  He didn’t have time to figure it out. He just needed to make it right.

  Jack stood up and walked around the desk, reaching for the door. He’d hopefully be able to catch Ethan before he made it out of the parking lot. He’d hopefully be able to talk some sense into him. But… what was he going to say?

  He froze, hand still on the doorknob.

  Was he rushing outside just to rehash the same ugly, bitter argument they’d just had? That hadn’t ended well the first time, and it would probably just get worse if Jack forced a second round without a plan. So, what then?

  He didn’t have any better answers to Ethan’s questions than he’d had before. Just his insistence that the situation wasn’t what Ethan thought it was. But… wasn’t it?

  Wasn’t Jack talking about selling the business? Even though he hadn’t sought the guy out, hadn’t he technically met with Mike? And then delayed telling Ethan until some future date?

  This was exactly why he hadn’t wanted to rush into anything, though—both with the business and with Ethan. It made an easy decision to sell the business complicated. Worse, it made a tough decision—to walk away from everything he might have had with Ethan—nearly impossible.

  Slowly, Jack walked back around his desk and sunk into the chair, making it squeak and groan under his sudden weight. There were just no easy answers. Once again, his father had left him alone to face the world, to face a problem that Jack wasn’t prepared to deal with.

  Jack felt the fact that he had to make a decision at all to be a slap in the face—almost a big fuck you from the grave. It had been bad enough that Gary hadn’t been around—at least not emotionally—when Jack had needed him as a teenager. But now? He’d abandoned Jack again, leaving him stuck between a rock and a hard place, during a time when he could really use some advice.

  If only Gary had taken better care of himself.

  Or hadn’t opened the flower shop in the first place.

  If only he’d been there at any fucking time in Jack’s life.

  “Fuck!” Jack slammed the palm of his hand against the desk, almost welcoming the shooting pain that it sent up his wrist. Maybe it would numb some of the other feelings he was experiencing, or at least provide a substitute for the other pain. The one in his heart.

  He pressed his palms against his eyes to stop the hot prick of tears that threatened to overtake him. He didn’t want to cry. He didn’t want any of this.

  Except for Ethan.

  He was all Jack wanted in the end.

  The time he’d spent with Ethan had made Jack momentarily forget about moving away, about any potential money from selling the shop—he’d even put aside most of his hurt and bitterness left over from losing his dad.

  Now, though? Ethan hated him, thought he was a liar and a coward, two things Jack had never, ever been up to this point. He was a Marine, for God’s sake. He’d seen and done things he’d never wish on his worst enemy, knowingly and willingly faced death dozens of times over the years in places he didn’t know and could barely pronounce… only to have his life derailed by a goddamn flower shop and a hot guy.

  A hot, sexy, sweet, smart, funny guy.

  A guy Jack was going to regret ruining his chances with for a long time if he couldn’t find a solution.

  That’s what he needed. A solution. A plan of attack.

  A plan and… money.

  He picked up his phone and scrolled through his contacts until he found the name of the one person in town who could possibly help him: Brad Whitley.

  Jack didn’t even hesitate to dial, and even though he didn’t know how his friend and banker might help, he already felt better just by thinking about it—just by doing something about his situation.

  “Hey, Jack.” Brad’s voice was quiet and shaky, and Jack could immediately tell something was… off. “Can I call you back? This isn’t the best time…”

  “Sure, but—” Jack grimaced. It wasn’t the best time for him, either, so he totally understood where Brad was coming from, but… this was important. “I’m sorry, man. I don’t wanna interrupt, um, whatever it is you’re doing, but… I really can’t wait until later.”

  There were a few long moments of silence on the other end of the line, then finally a soft sigh. “Okay.” Brad sounded tired. Defeated. Whatever it was he was dealing with, it had clearly drained him of his usual lively, upbeat personality. Any other time, Jack would be able to sense the smile in Brad’s voice, to feel the other man’s happiness, even through the phone. Now, though, it was completely gone. “What can I do for you?”

  “Are you okay, Brad?” Jack urgently needed some business advice, or some relationship advice, or… something. But it was clear that whatever Brad was going through was pretty damn important, too. “You don’t sound so good.”

  “No, I’m really not okay.” Brad barked out a short, harsh laugh, but there wasn’t a trace of humor in his tone. “I’m not okay at all. Jamie left me. Or… I guess I left him. Whatever. He cheated on me, Jack. I didn’t even see it coming.”

  Brad’s voice broke on the last word, and even though the sound was muffled, Jack was pretty sure his friend had started crying. Fuck. Jack didn’t know what to say—he’d called to talk about his own fucked-up relationship, after all. Jack certainly wasn’t in any position to give out dating advice.

  He could still be a good friend, though.

  “That fucker,” Jack shook his head as he spat the word. Brad was one of the nicest guys he knew—not to mention the fact that he was a good-looking and successful man in a town that wasn’t exactly overflowing with them. “You’re too good for him anyway, Brad. I mean it. Do you want me to go talk to him? Rough him up? Break his legs?”

  Brad laughed, but his voice was so full of pain that it didn’t seem like Jack’s sort-of-joke had helped much. “No, I don’t want to even think about him again. It’s just not fair, you know? You think everything is going great. Everything is wonderful and perfect, and then… bam. Right out of the blue, it all goes to hell.”

  Jack sighed and nodded his head, then remembered that Brad couldn’t see him, didn’t know just how close to home his words had hit. “Yeah, buddy. I know exactly what you mean.”

  “Well, anyway,” Brad sniffled and cleared his throat. “I didn’t want to put all that out there, but I guess I do feel a little better now that I’ve vented. So, tell me what I can do for you. I assume y
ou weren’t calling just to check up on me.”

  Jack knew Brad didn’t really mean that last statement as a dig, but he felt a pang of regret anyway. He should do a better job of staying in touch with his friends, of calling them “just because,” rather than just when he needed something.

  He winced as he reminded himself that he still did need something from Brad this time. Something important. But he needed to make sure his friend knew he was there for him, too.

  “Just so you know,” Jack said, hoping it wasn’t too little, too late, “I’m here for you if you ever need someone to talk to. Day or night. Anytime.”

  “I appreciate that, Jack. I really do. But you said whatever you called about couldn’t wait, so… tell me. What’s up?”

  Jack hesitated for a moment. Now that it was time to talk business, he wasn’t exactly sure what to say. Maybe it would be best just to lay all his cards out on the table and hope that Brad could find a solution.

  “I’ll be honest with you, man,” Jack shoved a hand back through his hair and exhaled a breath he’d been holding in. Asking for help had never been something he was good at, but he’d never been in a situation like this, either. “I know that the last time we talked, I was getting all the paperwork ready to eventually sell the shop.”

  “Right. I remember. Did you ever find a buyer?”

  “Yeah, and that’s the problem. I’ve got someone who is really eager to buy, but… I don’t know if I wanna sell anymore.”

  “You’ve gotta be kidding,” Brad snorted. “What? Did you decide to settle down and start a family here while I wasn’t looking?”

  Jack winced. Again, Brad’s words were closer to the truth than he could possibly have known. “No, nothing like that. Well…” Yeah, maybe something like that. But Brad didn’t need to know all the details of how Jack had fallen head over heels and wanted to stay in Bridgewater—especially considering Brad had just been forced to end his own relationship. “No, not that. The only person I’d really be happy to sell the shop to would be Ethan, and—”

  “That’s gonna be a hard no,” Brad said, cutting him off. “And you’ll have to forgive me for being unprofessional, Jack, but my nerves are shot. There’s just no way I can make a loan work for Ethan. The numbers just don’t add up.”

  From what Ethan had told Jack about his past credit issues, Brad’s statement wasn’t exactly news to Jack. Still, it effectively crossed one potential option off the very short list of possibilities for fixing Jack’s current problem.

  “I’d take out a loan myself if I could, if I thought it would help,” Jack said. Then, just in case, “Would that help?”

  “Maybe. Do you have any assets besides the flower shop and the attached apartment?”

  “Um… my truck?” Even as Jack said the words, he was pretty sure what Brad’s response was going to be, and he felt a sinking sensation in his stomach as one more door seemed to be closing in front of him.

  “No, that’s not going to work, unfortunately.” Brad’s voice sounded almost as grim as Jack was feeling. Whether it was because of Jack’s dwindling options or because of everything else that was going on in Brad’s life, Jack wasn’t sure. But it definitely wasn’t reassuring. “I don’t think I could offer you a loan of any amount that would actually be useful.”

  Fuck.

  This wasn’t how Jack had imagined their conversation going. He tried to stay calm, though. Maybe there was something else, something he just hadn’t thought of yet. Brad was the expert, so if anything could be done, Brad would make it happen.

  “What do I do?” Jack asked, not caring at all if he sounded desperate. “The debt my dad left me with—the hospital bills, the credit cards—all of it is crushing me, man. I feel like I’m suffocating here, and I need some help.”

  “I know, and I’m sorry.” Brad sounded sincere, even though he wasn’t saying the words Jack had hoped to hear. “If you had a couple more quarters—six months, or better, a year—of healthy profit, I might have a little more wiggle room. But right now? The numbers just don’t add up, Jack. Do you want my honest opinion?”

  “Yes, please,” Jack answered without hesitating. That was all he wanted, all he could hope for at this point.

  “Take the offer. Get as much money as you can—ideally enough to pay off everything you owe and still have a little left over—and get the hell out of this shitty town. I always envied you for getting out while you were young enough to do something with your life. Once you sell that shop, you won’t have any ties to Bridgewater anymore. Nothing will be holding you back. You’ll be free.”

  If Jack had heard those words six weeks ago, they would have been music to his ears. Now, though? Hearing that he didn’t have any ties to Bridgewater, hearing that he didn’t have a reason to stay anymore felt like a knife to the heart.

  And knowing it was true made it hurt even more.

  “You should never be jealous of me,” Jack said, meaning it. “All those years I spent running, and look where it got me. I’m damn near thirty years old and it’s all I know how to do.” He sucked in a ragged breath. “But thank you for talking to me. I can’t pretend I’m happy with what you’ve said, but I guess I needed to hear it.”

  “I’m sorry to have to be so blunt, Jack. You know I’d help if I could.”

  “No need to apologize,” Jack said, regretting that he’d bothered Brad just to confirm what Jack had already suspected—that he was completely and totally fucked. “I’m sorry for bothering you… and about Jamie. You’re a good guy and a good friend, and you don’t deserve that shit.”

  “You’re right. I don’t. Thanks, Jack. I’ll talk to you later.”

  Jack hung up the phone and closed his eyes as he leaned back in the creaky chair. That conversation hadn’t gone nearly as well as Jack had hoped.

  There really was just one option—one sensible thing to do. Jack hated it, but… what fucking choice did he have?

  He opened his eyes and dialed the number that was on the top of the paper in front of him, grimacing when that too-nice, too-eager voice answered on the first ring.

  “Jack? I didn’t think I’d hear from you so soon. I hope you’ve got good news for me.”

  Jack grimaced. Yeah, it would be good news for Mike, but for him? It was ripping his heart out.

  Ethan had already ended what they had, though, and Jack was out of options. Ten years in the Marines had taught him how to fight an enemy—but fighting for love?

  He’d tried, and he’d failed. He just didn’t know how.

  Maybe it would hurt less after it was done. Then he could walk—no, run—away as quickly as possible. Just like he had the last time Bridgewater had broken his heart.

  Jack took a deep breath, then said the words he’d been fighting since the moment he’d arrived in Bridgewater… the ones that hadn’t felt right since the moment he’d met Ethan.

  But, unfortunately, the only words he had left.

  “I’m ready to sell, Mike. Now.”

  Jack had barely eaten, had barely slept in the twenty-four hours since Ethan had stormed out of the office, since he’d spoken with Brad, and then with Mike.

  Since he’d tried and failed to find an alternative to selling the shop.

  He’d spent the whole afternoon, then the whole night trying to convince himself that it was the right decision, that it was for the best. That it was what he had to do.

  But now, as he sat behind the counter of the flower shop for maybe the last time, waiting for Mike to walk through the door with the paperwork that would seal his fate and give him one more reason to run—away from Bridgewater and the thought of what could have been with Ethan—he couldn’t help but wonder if he was about to fuck things up even worse.

  If that was even possible.

  He reached for the candy dish, absently unwrapping the chewy little square and popping it into his mouth.

  “Gross candy,” Jack muttered to himself, grimacing as he tried to chew it as quickly as possible.
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br />   He’d never liked those candies, but they’d been his dad’s favorite for as long as Jack could remember. They were always sitting around in a dish in their house growing up, just like the dish that was always there at the shop. Hell, it was probably the same dish.

  Jack felt a pang of… regret? Sadness? He wasn’t sure, but his stomach clenched as the memory took him back to a time when everything had been so much easier. Much more black and white. Back when both of his parents had been alive and the three of them had been mostly happy, or at least mostly content.

  Mostly a family.

  That flower shop, that candy dish, and the memories they held for Jack were really the only things he had left to remind him of that time in his life, of his parents as he wanted to remember them.

  The shop suddenly felt too small, too full of those memories that Jack wanted to hold onto and run away from all at the same time. Not just of his parents anymore. Now, the memories of Ethan were here, too.

  Wonderful.

  Painful.

  Jack couldn’t stand it.

  He looked at the clock. He still had about fifteen minutes until Mike was supposed to get there—not enough time to go anywhere for a stiff drink, but at least enough time to step outside and catch his breath, maybe at least grab a strong coffee from Magic Beans, since that was apparently going to be the only liquid courage he could get.

  Without a second thought, Jack was up and moving, quickly crossing the shop floor and flipping the sign to “Closed” as he stepped outside into the brisk February air.