Chance to Bloom Page 3

  “Mhm,” Ethan said, reaching out to straighten a rose that had gone askew under Mr. Robbins’ handsy inspection. “I remember you said that at the time. But I’m glad she ended up liking them. So… what brings you in today? I’ve just got some carnations in that I think would make a really nice bouquet. I can show you if you’d like…”

  The older man shook his head. “Maybe later, Ethan. The fact is, I just came in because…” Mr. Robbins looked away for a minute, and when his gaze met Ethan’s again, his eyes were suspiciously bright with emotion. “Well, because I was thinking about Gary, if you want to know the truth.”

  Ethan’s expression softened as he reached out to gently squeeze the old man’s shoulder in a move that the older man probably would’ve found a little too friendly and informal under different circumstances. These weren’t normal circumstances, though, and it was the closest thing to a hug that Ethan was willing to risk.

  “I feel like Gary’s presence is still here in the shop,” Ethan said. “And I know he would’ve been glad you stopped by to visit.”

  “He was a good man,” Mr. Robbins said, nodding briskly and regaining some of his composure. “I was afraid it would feel… different, now that he’s gone. But it doesn’t, does it? It really does feel like he’s still here. I’m glad you’re keeping his memory alive, young man.”

  It was the nicest thing Mr. Robbins—or anyone else, for that matter—had ever said to Ethan, and it was his turn to blink hard as he tried to hold back the tears that were suddenly welling up in his eyes.

  For a man that made a hobby out of being gruff and disagreeable, Mr. Robbins had hit him right in the heart with his unexpectedly thoughtful words.

  Ethan wasn’t sure how to respond, but he couldn’t let such a heartfelt gesture go unanswered.

  “Thank you,” he said, finally. “That means a lot to me, and I know it would’ve meant a lot to Gary, too. Please do come by and visit as often as you’d like. I won’t even try to sell you any more Peruvian lilies.”

  Mr. Robbins laughed, a short, dry sound that seemed almost as out of place as his earlier sentiments had been. God, Ethan was really bringing out all the emotions in the normally reticent old man today.

  “Maybe those lilies weren’t so bad,” Mr. Robbins said, grudgingly. “And I may come back later to look at those carnations. I’ve got some other things I need to take care of in town first, though.”

  Without another word, he turned and made his way to the door, only pausing for a moment to nod his head when Ethan called out to say goodbye.

  Ethan couldn’t help but chuckle as Mr. Robbins disappeared out the door. Getting a compliment from him had been a fantastic and completely unexpected way to start out his morning. Computer malfunction notwithstanding, he hoped it was a good omen for the rest of the day.

  But really, it was just proof that Gary’s beliefs about customer service had been spot-on. He’d always told Ethan to treat everyone who walked through the door like they were family—like there was nobody else in the world he’d rather be talking to.

  Gary had always said it was a way to honor his late wife’s memory with more than just the shop’s name. It was, according to Gary, the way Beverly had always treated people and the way she would have done things. He’d built his shop and his customer base around his what-would-Beverly-do philosophy, and had paid more than just lip service to the idea that the customers’ special occasions were special to him, too.

  The people of this town had loved him for it.

  As far as Ethan was concerned, Gary’s big-hearted approach to business was the reason Beverly’s Blooms hadn’t been affected by any of the uncertain economic times of the previous decade, and why the church had been filled beyond capacity for Gary’s funeral the month before.

  It was also the reason why people like Mr. Robbins and Mrs. Linley still remained loyal customers, even though Gary was no longer there.

  The residents of Bridgewater took pride in the shop, just as much as Ethan, Frankie, and Gary had, and their customers wanted it to succeed just as much as everyone who worked there.

  Ethan walked back through the shop toward the office and the computer mess he’d left there, stopping to eye a bouquet of tulips he’d put together the day before. To get the most life out of a display, he always used some buds that were still tightly closed, and it never got old watching them open gradually over the course of several days.

  He rubbed a thumb across one of the buds, smiling to himself as he thought of how pretty it was going to be once it had a chance to bloom, a chance to show off its true colors.

  It was just another one of the million little perks he got from working with what nature had created. He’d never be able to fully explain how it made him feel to be surrounded by that kind of life and beauty every day—and even get paid for it—but he’d always be grateful to Gary for having given him a chance to discover that side of himself, and to the community of Bridgewater for continuing to let him indulge it.

  It was comforting to know that the tight-knit town was rooting for their little shop, but it was also a bit melancholy.

  Ethan had never set out to be a florist; he’d only ever stayed at Beverly’s Blooms because he truly loved the work and the people he worked with. Gary had been like a surrogate father, and Frankie was the little brother Ethan had never known he’d wanted. He could have made more money working just about anywhere, doing just about anything else, but being able to show up for work every day and do something creative—to work with the beautiful, perfect things that nature had created—had turned out to be the most fulfilling thing he’d ever experienced.

  This job and those people had seen him through some rough times—bad dates, break-ups, near bankruptcy, moving back in with his mom—and everything he’d been through in the past several years had been easier to manage because of the fact that for eight hours of the day, five or sometimes six days a week, he could put it all aside and play with flowers.

  Who wouldn’t want a job like this?

  How could anything else even compare?

  Ethan truly wanted to do it forever, and he’d always imagined that he would. That he’d work at Beverly’s Blooms—with Gary—for a long, long time.

  Ethan shook his head as he dropped his hand from the tulip’s soft petal and walked back into the office. He’d never really realized how much he’d taken for granted that Gary would always be there—sharing wisdom, giving advice, and keeping Ethan’s life feeling stable. Losing him had been a shock to everyone, but also a reminder to Ethan that nothing in life is certain.

  And that nothing lasts forever.

  Even with the best care and all the love he could give them, the beautiful flowers he surrounded himself with every day would eventually wilt before his eyes. It was the same with life, with everything. But rather than let himself get down about it, Ethan was determined to make sure he took time to appreciate and enjoy the beauty, the complexity, the life that bloomed all around him while he still had the opportunity.

  And at least—through showing up and working in the space he’d shared with Gary—he still felt a connection with the man whose life and death had taught him that.

  That was something he definitely wasn’t going to take for granted anymore.

  Ethan had barely had time to sit back down and start looking for the IT guy’s number when the bell above the front door jingled again. For a moment, he wondered if Mr. Robbins had changed his mind about checking out the carnations, but when he peeked back out of the office, it was obvious that the man walking through the door was definitely not Mr. Robbins.

  Even with the morning sun in his eyes, Ethan could tell that this customer was much taller and more muscular than the wiry old man who’d been in earlier. In fact, the new customer’s silhouette didn’t match any of the mostly-elderly clientele’s who frequented the flower shop.

  Those silhouettes didn’t make Ethan crane his neck to the point of nearly falling out of the desk chair, didn’t make
something quicken inside him that he hadn’t felt in God knows how long.

  Ethan squinted against the glare of the sun, his imagination already filling in the details that he still couldn’t quite see. This guy was big. And built. And probably—almost certainly, based on the parts Ethan could see—the kind of guy that Ethan always seemed to fall for.

  Tall, dark and handsome?

  Yes, yes and yes, please.

  The man didn’t walk right up to the counter to place an order. Instead, he took a few moments to stand near the entrance and take it all in, as if he was inspecting the place from floor to ceiling.

  Clearly, a first-time customer.

  Ethan hurriedly put away the mess of papers that he’d strewn across Gary’s desk while looking for the phone number and walked out to greet the man. Not only did he want to make sure the new customer was taken care of, but—if he was being honest?—yeah, he wanted to get a better look at just how hot this mystery guy really was.

  Of course, Ethan would give the man the same level of service no matter what he happened to look like. From a business standpoint, it didn’t matter at all. But from a haven’t-been-laid-in-too-damn-long standpoint, from a maybe-probably-almost-definitely-gonna-use-his-face-for-inspiration-later standpoint?

  It mattered.

  It mattered a lot.

  And the closer Ethan got to the backlit shape of the new customer, the more his suspicions of hotness were confirmed.

  The man was half-turned away from Ethan, looking at an enormous arrangement of sunflowers that Ethan had made on a particularly chilly day the week before. It had made him think of summer when he’d put it together—still a few months away—and even he had to admit that it was quite eye-catching.

  “Don’t those sunflowers make you feel nice and warm?” Ethan asked. He grinned as he came around the counter, trying and failing not to think of all the other ways he might make this particular customer feel nice. And warm. “Welcome to Beverly’s Blooms, I’m—”

  Whatever he’d been about to say died in his throat as the man finally turned to face him, his intense brown eyes pinning Ethan to the floor where he stood. The guy was drop-dead sexy—gorgeous, in a rough, rugged sort of way—but it was the flicker of recognition that passed between them that made Ethan’s throat close up and sent off all kinds of alarm bells in his head.

  “Thank you,” the man said, quirking an eyebrow but still not taking his eyes off Ethan’s. “You must be Ethan.”

  Oh, damn.

  Damn, damn, damn.

  Ethan opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. He shut it again with an audible snap and nodded instead. The man extended his hand and Ethan shook it, trying to remember to smile… even though it felt like he might throw up or pass out instead.

  Despite the haze of the past month, the memory of this man’s face—and his build, his profile, his demeanor—stood out from the blur of everything else. Ethan had seen him before.

  When he finally found his voice again, it was faint, almost like a whisper.

  “And you’re Jack.”

  Gary’s son was the sexiest man Ethan had ever seen… and absolutely the last one he should be thinking that about, given that he was also Ethan’s new boss and quite literally held Ethan’s future happiness in his hands.

  His big, strong, calloused hands that felt amazing on Ethan’s.

  Chapter 4

  Jack

  Jack knew that he might be holding onto Ethan’s hand a little longer than was absolutely necessary for a business handshake, but he couldn’t help it. When he’d seen the look, the heat in Ethan’s eyes—and that sexy little nervous grin—it had taken every ounce of self-control he possessed not to let his mind wander in directions that were definitely unprofessional.

  Before walking through the door, Jack hadn’t put much thought into who his dad’s employees were—he hadn’t put any thought at all into it, actually. He’d known from a few brief conversations with his dad’s old accountant that there were a couple of guys who worked at the flower shop. And even though he thought he might have met them briefly at the funeral, for the most part, they’d just been a couple of names that popped up on the reports he’d skimmed. Faceless entities, as far as Jack had been concerned.

  And it wasn’t that he didn’t care, necessarily, it was just that he had about as much interest in who was running his dad’s shop as he had in any other aspect of it. In other words, none.

  Now, though?

  Yeah, Jack was definitely interested. Very interested.

  Ethan wasn’t faceless anymore. He was bright and sunny and sexy and he took Jack’s breath away.

  He was… beautiful.

  It was a word that Jack had never applied to a guy before, but it was the only word that really fit. Not just “handsome,” and not just “pretty,” either.

  Absolutely beautiful.

  Reluctantly, Jack let Ethan’s hand go, even though a part of him that wanted to say “fuck being professional” noted the fact that Ethan hadn’t seemed in much of a hurry to end the handshake, either. But this was about business, and as Jack’s eyes tracked every little movement Ethan made, he couldn’t help but think of how different the vibrant man was, compared to what Jack would have expected if he’d given it any thought.

  An employee like Ethan, so vibrant and happy and obviously gay, flew in the face of everything Jack remembered about his stern, no-nonsense father. It had been Gary’s rough, gruff, seemingly uncaring demeanor that had kept Jack from ever opening up and coming out to his father once he’d come to terms with being gay himself. While never overtly homophobic, Gary Davis was literally the last person Jack could’ve imagined working so closely with someone who seemed so completely his father’s opposite in every way.

  Yet, here Ethan was—with his bright, wide smile that made even the sunflowers Jack had just been looking at seem pale by comparison—living proof that maybe Jack’s teenage perception and understanding of his father might have missed the mark a little.

  And… maybe Jack had missed the mark in other ways, too.

  He’d been prepared for the shop to feel like an extension of his dad—dark and gloomy, oppressive and stuffy. But instead it was light and airy, bright and cheerful—a real tribute to his mother in more ways than just the name above the door.

  She would have been easy to come out to, had she still been alive. And she also would’ve approved of Ethan, Jack had no doubt. The way he had immediately come out from behind the counter and tried to make conversation, tried to put Jack—a complete stranger, as far as he’d known—at ease… that was pure Beverly.

  The thought made Jack’s throat close up for a moment, and he wondered if his dad had seen those same qualities in Ethan… and if he’d appreciated them.

  It was a lot to process, even now, and it definitely wasn’t the time to try and sort out all of his feelings—not while this beautiful man was still standing just a few inches away, nibbling at his lip as he looked up at Jack expectantly.

  “It’s nice to finally meet you,” Ethan finally said after several moments of prolonged silence.

  They’d both been perfectly still, but the moment Ethan spoke, it was like a spell had been broken. Jack started breathing again, and Ethan was suddenly full of life and action, eyes bright and seeming to take everything in at once. He looked Jack over from head to toe as he clasped his hands first in front of him, then behind, that sunny smile warming all over.

  “I wasn’t expecting you here today, but I’m glad you finally made it,” Ethan continued, sounding sincere. “Frankie and I have been looking forward to working with you.”

  “Nice to meet you, too.” Jack nodded, then furrowed his brow. “Sorry to come in unannounced, but I guess I didn’t think much about it. I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

  “No, not at all,” Ethan said, motioning for Jack to come with him. “In fact, if you happen to know anything about computers, you’ve come at exactly the right time.”

&nb
sp; Jack shook his head but followed behind Ethan anyway—even though he was unsure of where they were going or what Ethan was even talking about.

  “I’m afraid I don’t know much more than on and off, point and click when it comes to computers. But…” Jack paused, not sure how he should say what was on his mind, or if he should even say it at all. Fuck it. “Are you the guy—the same Ethan, I assume—who has worked here for years? Like, almost since my dad opened the place?”

  “That’s me,” Ethan said, turning to face Jack again once they were both standing in the cramped office. “I started about a year after your dad opened the shop, and I’ve been here ever since. Why?”

  “I’m just… I guess I wasn’t expecting someone so… cheerful. And happy, and…”

  Beautiful.

  Jack paused, uncertain how to articulate exactly what he was thinking or why he felt it was so important that he do so.

  Ethan arched a brow. “Gay?”

  Jack’s eyes went wide as he shook his head at Ethan’s misinterpretation. “No, no. No, not that. Well…” Jack shrugged. “That wasn’t what I was going to say. But honestly? Knowing my dad? Yeah, I guess that threw me off a little.”

  “With all due respect, I knew your dad, too. It wasn’t a problem for him.” Ethan’s eyes narrowed as all traces of that bright, sunny smile completely vanished. “Is it going to be a problem for you?”

  Jack shook his head. This conversation had gone completely off the rails, and he didn’t know how to fix it. It was clear from Ethan’s expression that Jack had fucked up, and he hated that he’d been the reason Ethan had stopped smiling, but he needed to set the record straight. He normally didn’t give a damn what people thought of him, but for some reason, it mattered that Ethan knew he wasn’t some kind of bigoted jerk.

  Hell, Jack was gay, too. But between his fear of what his dad would’ve thought—and later, what his fellow Marines would’ve thought—he’d never had the guts to admit it to anyone other than the handful of guys he’d fooled around with under the radar. Although now, a part of him wanted to tell Ethan... but after inserting his foot so far into his mouth, that would probably only make things more awkward.