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And the fact that I’m even considering it with Devin after days when it wasn’t a possibility with Logan after years of being friends and dating for half a year tells me all I need to know about us. We could be the real deal.
Coming across a shaggy blond talking to a brunette woman behind the stand, I ask, “Are you Reid?”
He adjusts the bill of his cap. “That’s me.”
“We just spoke with Chloe, and she said to find you and mention that Loe was giving us a bouquet on the house.”
“All right. She’s the boss.” He winks, handing over a small white bucket and shears, giving us a brief description of what section we can pick from.
I don’t want to go overboard, but it’s so hard choosing only a few from the varieties they have growing. I want them all. Every single flower, but then I’d wind up with a car full.
A row over, a fit man painted in tattoos from head to toe holds a baby with a red tuft of hair, strolling beside a beautiful redhead with her own bucket of flowers. She cuts the flowers with an expert hand, like someone who comes here often. This is probably a regular date for them. A quiet stroll through Lockwood Blooms where he buys her however many flowers she wants.
“Should I be worried?” Devin pops his gum, eyebrow arched.
I laugh, averting my eyes and nudging him in the ribs. “Are you jealous, Hotshot?”
“If you’re the kind of girl to run off with a married man, definitely not.”
My head falls back with amusement. “I can’t help it if tattoos are really hot. And look at that woman beside him. She’s gorgeous.” I shrug. “I was just imagining what their life is like.”
“They probably never leave the bedroom.”
“Devin!” I hiss, unable to rein in my grin as I shove him.
“What?” He chuckles. “Don’t act like you weren’t thinking it. Two attractive people carrying around a cute baby. Where did the baby come from?”
“Oh my gosh, stop.” I cover my giggle behind my hand. “Pick a flower.”
“Oh, I get to choose one for your special bouquet? Don’t offer it up just to shut me up.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m not forcing you to.”
“No, I want to.” He takes the shears from me. “What’s today’s scent? It’s floral, not food.”
“Wow, I didn’t think you’d notice. It’s Japanese Cherry Blossom.”
Devin grimaces. “I’m not going to find that here, am I?”
“I’m afraid not.”
“Okay, that’s cool. I’ll find something. No, not just something. I’m going to pick the best one here. You’ll cry the day it dies.”
After grabbing another bite on Main Street at a seafood joint appropriately named Saltbox because of the sloped rear roofline, Devin and I get back on the road. He decides he wants to stop at Sharon’s friend’s house in Salem, so I install myself behind the wheel for the first time since our almost accident, finally able to hold the steering wheel without hyperventilating. We have a good five or six-hour drive and I’m crossing my fingers I make it without having a panic attack.
sixteen | devin
“Can you stop the car? Here.”I sit forward, bracing a hand on the dashboard.
“It’s still a few houses down.”
“Please, Nova.” Panic snatches hold of my lungs. “Pull over here.” I curse, my fingers digging into the leather interior like I’m holding myself from tuck and rolling out of the passenger side.
“Dev?” The Audi slows, while my breaths accelerate. “Hey. Hey, I’m pulling over now.”
For the first time since she took the wheel, her right hand releases its death grip and wraps around my forearm, squeezing. When the car comes to a complete stop, Nova reaches for the gear shift with her left hand and moves it intoPark.
The music that filled our quiet moments during the five-hour drive disappears.
