He laughed and nodded. “You won fair and square. Congratulations.” He picked up the iPad to study my design. “This really is awesome. It might be tricky to make these sharp corners on the petals with chicken wire, though. I think I know where we can get some brass tubing to use. There’s this junkyard out near—”
I put my finger up. “Ah! Before anything else, you owe me a photo shoot. It’s been too long since I’ve had new content on my Insta. Today, Plant-Boy, you’re all mine.”
June and Gia left for Lilybuds while Rowan and I stayed at Hyacinth’s for a coffee and planned my photo shoot.
“I need somewhere that looks more urban,” I said. “The barn at the nursery is good, but we already used it for Lilybuds. There’s no secret graffiti wall or decommissioned subway station in Bakewell, is there?”
He laughed. “No. What about behind the library or the clock tower?”
I shook my head. “This damn town is too flower obsessed. The alleyways are all pretty.” Even the auto garage had window boxes full of seasonal blooms.
“I thought you were into flowers now?”
I shrugged. I was, kinda. “Yeah, but I don’t think the whole manicured-garden aesthetic is right for my designs. I need something more...industrial.”
“What about the nursery itself?”
I wrinkled my nose. “Didn’t I say no gardens?”
“No, not the garden center, thenursery. The actual greenhouse. It’s flowers, but it’s about the most industrial thing around here. Seriously, inside is all heavy machinery, skids, and forklifts. It’s nothing like the garden center. Wynter’s also has a botanical lab, too, if you want the whole science look. My dad heads it up, and he’s in today finishing some research, so he’ll let us in.”
“Your dad wouldn’t mind?”
“Are you kidding? He’d be thrilled to show off his lab. Wynter’s is so much more than the garden center—it’s pretty much a flower factory. Our plants are sold all over the country.”
Huh. I mean, I’d seen the massive greenhouse at Wynter’s from a distance, but I’d always assumed it was a bigger version of the garden center. All cutesy and florally. But it made sense—this was a flower factory.
“Oh, good. You kids are still here.” I looked up. The woman who I now knew was Hyacinth was coming out of the shop. She was white, and looked to be in her thirties, and had the most perfect magenta bobbed hair. She wore black jeans with a black T-shirt that saidHYACINTH’Son the chest. “I just wanted to make sure I told you how much I loved both those drawings. They didn’t tell me who did what when I decided. Done well, I think either design could win.”
“Thanks!” Rowan said.
Hyacinth leaned in close. “You two make a good team—I’m glad you’re working together. Bloom couples are the best couples...my fiancé and I fell in love when we were on a Bloom team together.” She smiled at me. “Thomas owns the auto garage. Have you seen his flower boxes? The irony is that we’re missing the festival this year because we’regetting married that weekend. We’re having a tiny destination wedding because otherwise we’d have to invite all of Bakewell. If we did that, I’d just want to make sure everyone has enough coffee and food, and Thom would be reminding them they were due for an oil change! Anyway, good luck, kiddos! I’m rooting for you!”
I thanked her, and she smiled and went back inside. I fidgeted with the clasp on my bag. Why hadn’t Rowan corrected Hyacinth about us being a couple?
After a few awkward seconds, Rowan said, “So? Want to take the pictures at the nursery? Come see where I work. There is something else I want to show you at Wynter’s, anyway.”
He had the sweetest smile on his face. I couldn’t seem to say no to it. “I’d love to. Let’s go back to where we met, Plant-Boy.”
We headed home to change first—him into the handmade shirt and me into a halter tank and fitted wide-leg trousers, both made in the same cream linen with a subtle red thread running through it. These were older pieces, and they’d been on my page before, but I styled them differently now, with chains on the belt loops and my hair down. If the setting worked, I wanted pictures of both of us together on my page, too. I was neglecting my platform, which my mother reminded me of every time she called.
Rowan had a sweatshirt over the T-shirt when I found him at his car, so I couldn’t see how it looked on him. The sweatshirt was a cool gray that brought out the pale brown in his otherwise dark eyes.
I needed to stop staring.
I got into the car, schooling my voice to be light and easy. “You ready for this? I would say it’s your modeling debut, but you modeled in your school fashion show, right?”
He laughed. “Yup. I’m an old hand at this.” He put the car in reverse and pulled out into the street. “Only weird thing will be standing around for pictures at the nursery while the rest of my crew are busy.”
“Yourcrew? Oh, wait, you’re a supervisor, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, but just a shift supervisor. I’m the lead for my team, which doesn’t mean much because most of my team are, like, fourteen- to sixteen-year-olds.”
After turning into Wynter’s, he drove past the retail store and the barn to a more distant parking lot outside the large greenhouse. He parked, and we headed to the entrance. Rowan swiped his card on a pad near the door.
“After you,” he said with a gallant swing of his arm, holding the door open for me. I laughed as I walked in.
And then stopped dead.
