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“My ring was swallowed by a goat.”
Ellis laughs—it’s mesmerizing—and I laugh a little too, hoping mine is as good as his. “I’m still waiting on the farm to call.”
“I was not expecting you to say that.” He leans in and his eyes drop to my mouth. “What did Henry say about it?”
“Nothing, actually.” His closeness makes me want to withdraw, but I don’t. He smells divine. It’s not an overpowering expensive cologne you can’t get away from like Henry wears. His scent is clean and understated, making you want to seek it out. “I didn’t elaborate.”
He tilts his head, puzzled for a moment. “He didn’t want the details of that story? I know I do.”
I shrug. Now I’m wondering why Henry didn’t press me for details? It’s not every day a goat eats your ring. I’m also wondering why I find myself telling Ellis every detail of the story and enjoying the amused expression on his face.
“That’s the best thing ever,” he says when I’m finished relaying what happened. “So, wait. How do you get it back?”
“Well, eventually the goat will...“
“Stop.” He places a finger on my suddenly dry lips. “I think I get it, and I don’t know if I can handle it.”
I giggle behind his finger. And then, my laughter fades when he traces his finger tip over my mouth. His eyes are so intense, I inadvertently lick my lips, grazing his finger. His jaw clenches as he pulls his hand back.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”
“Why did you?” I ask.
“The flowers told me to.”
I straighten up in my chair. “Ah. Haunted flowers?”
Ellis smiles. “Yeah.” He taps the binder. “These flowers are all haunted, and you shouldn’t have any of them at your wedding.”
“Well, that’s more for Marsha,” I say, without thinking.
“Who’s Marsha?”
“My cousin. She’s getting married too.” I look down at the binder and trail my finger along the edge. “My mom is in psychological warfare with my Aunt over which daughter has the best life. I’m losing.”
“Ah,” he says as if he has completely grasped the entirety of the situation from that one sentence. “I find it hard to believe that Marsha could beat you in anything.” His eyes sweep over my face. “Don’t try to win someone else’s race.”
This is getting very deep, and I’m sorry but…
Henry—3
Ellis—I can't quantify it.
“We can’t kiss again, Ellis.” I get my serious face on, like when I’m reprimanding one of the puppies for pooping on the floor. “I’m getting married.” My voice is so low and serious, I almost don’t like the sound of it. But this has to stop.
“I’m sorry. Won’t happen again. I should go.” He stands, and for a split second, I want to tell him not to leave. But, I don’t. I only watch as he walks back in the store. Sometimes, the right thing is the hardest to do.
I flip the pages in the binder, but as hard as I try, I can’t focus on the flowers.
“Sorry, it took me so long,” Alice says, bustling out the door and toward me with a smile. “Your friend said to give you this because he thinks it’ll be the perfect flower for your wedding.”
She lays a bunch of blue forget-me-nots on the table. Of all the flowers, he chose this one. What are the odds? An ache settles in my chest as I touch the soft, blue petals. I’m not sure I can forget Ellis, no matter how much I try.
* * *
Today, I finally got the call. Yes, the call. The goat has finally produced something for me. When I shoot a text to Poppi and tell her I’m on my way out to the farm, she offers to come along. I should be excited, but for some reason I’m not. Those flowers really were haunted. And now I am. Haunted by Ellis. He’s creeping around my mind, with his abs and forget-me-nots, and honestly, it’s starting to scare me.
“Thanks for coming,” I tell Poppi when she picks me up at my house. Yes, I asked her to drive.
Her blue Subaru is better than my big ol’ work van, but the real reason I wanted her to drive is I’m working on exorcising Ellis. The van and the trellis will only make me think of him more.
“Lola says you all went out last night.” She plugs in the address to the farm into her GPS and turns on the radio.
“Yeah, Henry wanted to set up his friend, Ellis, with Lola.”
I can see the skepticism on her face. “Really? How did that work out?”
I fiddle with the seatbelt. “Well, I’m sure he liked Lola.”
She stops at a red light and faces me. “Are you disappointed?”
“No,” I lie. “I saw him a few days ago to pick out flowers.”
She tucks a long red wave behind her ear. “Kiki, what are you doing? Maybe you’re not ready to get married.”
