One Wish (Thunder Point #7)(28)

“She told me. We talked about student help for her, but it’s kind of late in the year to start any kind of work-study situation. I posted an after-school help position on the bulletin board, but...”

“I hope something turns up for her. Hey, tomorrow I’ll be out at Cooper’s—come on out. I’ll treat. Bring Prince Charming. I’ll even buy him a beer.”

“You’re on,” she said.

Troy drove to the flower shop, parked in the alley right behind the Pretty Petals van and went in the back door. Grace was finishing the creation of an arrangement at her big messy worktable, but he didn’t care. He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her against him, kissing her hard.

“Troy, stop it, I’m filthy.”

“I know. Filthy is good. We can get a little filthy later if you feel like it.” He picked up her hand and looked at the green and brown fingers, ick under her nails. “Jeez, this is ugly work. Who knew? You’d think working with flowers would be more attractive. Are you sending me home after I help here?”

“Do I ever send you home?”

“What do you want to do for dinner?”

“I grabbed one of Carrie’s meals from the deli—teriyaki chicken, rice, asparagus and cheesecake. Will that do it for you?”

He kissed her neck. “For my first meal. Then I’m having you.”

She laughed, pushing him away. “I have to run upstairs and scrub up a little bit,” she said, taking off the green apron. She hung it on the hook by the door. “If the Jackson-Paulson couple comes in before I’m back, just put them in my office, will you? I’ll be right back.”

“Sure,” he said. When she’d gone upstairs, he looked around at the mess. Miss Gracie had had a busy day at the flower shop. The big worktable and floor were covered with clippings, stems, florist’s foam, tape, all manner of rocks and a couple of glue guns. He put her arrangement in the cooler, picked up the glue guns and swept off the debris on the table onto the floor. The second he’d done that, he realized he was an idiot. Now the rocks and in some cases what looked like flattened marbles pinged around the floor. If he wasn’t pretty quick with a broom, someone could break a hip.

He immediately started sweeping a path away from her office door. It could be unpleasant if her customers fell and broke their backs. He was quick about it. He liked it when Gracie thought he was the perfect man and really didn’t want to expose himself as just another stupid guy who didn’t think.

It didn’t take him long to have a nice pile of trash between the back door and the cooler. Just in time, too. The bell on the door tinkled and the couple came in.

“It’s just bullshit, Janet. We don’t need all this,” a man’s voice said.

“Maybe I need it,” the woman said, her voice watery. “I haven’t asked too much and I work for every dime.”

“You want a house?” he asked meanly.

“Yes, but not a new truck!” she threw back.

“You want a baby?” he flung.

“When we can afford it, but I don’t want to just skip the wedding! I know you don’t care, but I care! My mother cares!”

“Then your mother should pay for it!”

“You know my mother has nothing!”

“And that’s what we’re going to have! Nothing!”

“I thought you wanted a wedding?” she said in a near sob.

“I thought so, too, until I saw the list of things we have to buy! I wanted a band, a keg and a good party! Now I’m buying a goddamned coronation!”

The back door opened and Grace stepped in looking completely refreshed in a crisp white blouse, a little shine on her lips and her hair brushed. He wanted to eat her alive, gobble her up. “They’re fighting,” he whispered.

“Happens all the time. Weddings are famous for it.” She looked around. “Oh, Troy, you cleaned up.” She took a closer look at the table and floor. “A little...”

“You want me to mop?” he asked.

“No, but thanks. Just mind the front of the store for me, and if someone comes in and needs something, please interrupt me. I can take two minutes while my clients look at pictures, run a sale, get back to them in no time.”

“I work in a bar, Gracie. I can ring up a sale. If there are price tags.”

“Everything is priced. Let any calls go to voice mail.” She kissed him real quick on the lips. “Thank you.”

“You are so hard to wait for,” he muttered under his breath as she walked away. He watched as she approached the tortured couple.

“Mr. Jackson? Ms. Paulson? Hi, I’m Grace. Would you like to come back to my office and talk about your wedding flowers?”

“We’re fighting about the wedding,” Ms. Paulson said.

“Well, I’m here to lessen your wedding tension and help you find very practical and affordable options in the flower department. Don’t worry—looking at pictures of bouquets and arrangements carries no obligation at all. I only want to help. Come with me. Would you like a cup of coffee? Tea? Bottled water?”

“How about a beer,” the groom said testily.

“I had to stop stocking beer,” Grace said with a laugh. “Too many stressed-out, drunk grooms left my flower shop! Come right in here, let me get a couple of waters.” She put them in the chairs in front of her desk and when she walked through the workroom to her cooler, she rolled her eyes at Troy, smiling a little.