The Resurrection of Wildflowers (Wildflower #2)(77)

“Oh.” Her cheeks turn the softest shade of pink.

We reach my truck in the parking garage and I load our stuff into the backseat.

The weekend away was unplanned, but nice, just like our spontaneous decision to get married, but I’m going to be happy to get home.

“Oh my God.” Salem looks at me with panic just as I start the engine.

“What?” I look around, thinking I did something wrong or forgot something or maybe something is wrong with the truck.

“Winnie and Binx! You didn’t leave them alone, did you?”

“Of course not,” I scoff. “They’re in the very capable hands of Thelma and Cynthia.”

“Oh no,” she says softly.

“What?”

“There’s no telling what Thelma has done to them.”

She probably has a point.





I knock on the door of the house across the street, eager to get my pets back. It takes a moment for one of them to reach the door. It’s Cynthia. She opens it with a smile.

“Come in, come in. Thelma is out back with Winnie. I think she wants one of them short squatty dogs now.”

“A corgi?” I ask when Binx comes running out from some hidden corner, rubbing his body against my legs.

“If that’s what they’re called then, sure, that.”

She opens the back door and yells for Thelma that I’m here. I scoop up Binx before I lose him again. He nuzzles his soft head into my neck. The cat and I have really taken to each other. I look him over and I— “Is that nail polish on his nails?” I eye the hot pink glitter coating his nails. It definitely is, but I need to hear confirmation to believe my own two eyes.

“We had a spa night, boy,” Thelma responds through the screened door, coming up the porch stairs. “And on spa night we pamper ourselves.”

“And so you painted the cat’s nails?”

Thelma shrugs. “He picked the color.”

It takes me another fifteen minutes to get Winnie and Binx’s things packed up, finish up talking to Thelma and Cynthia, before I finally can head back home.

Inside, there’s a commotion coming from the kitchen. I set Binx down and take Winnie off her leash, both animals sprinting for the kitchen.

I follow along, more slowly, coming to a stop when I find Salem humming along to music, her hips swaying, as she stirs something in a bowl.

“Are you baking?” I try to hide the astonishment from my voice.

She whirls around, gracing me with a smile. She looks happy, and fuck if that doesn’t make my chest puff up with pride because I know I’m part of the reason she feels that way.

“Yeah.” A bit of pink flushes her cheeks. “I felt like it.”

“I know you don’t really bake anymore…” I trail off, eyeing the ingredients. “Cookie dough cupcakes?”

“I miss it,” she admits with a shrug. “I stopped because…”

“Because, why?” I prompt, needing to hear the answer.

She sets the bowl down, picking up cupcake liners and lining them up in a cupcake pan. “It reminded me of you too much. My candles too. But I have you again and now those things don’t feel so painful anymore. I want to give it a try again. It was nice too, before my mom died, we made cupcakes a few times. She’s pretty insistent when she wants—” She winces. “She was pretty insistent when she wanted something. I can’t help thinking she wanted me to find my passion again.”

“Your mom probably knew deep down you missed it.”

“Probably.” She smiles sadly and I know her thoughts are now with her mom.

“I’ll leave you to it, then.” I head out back to my greenhouse. I want to cut a bouquet for my wife.

My wife. I can’t help the stupid grin that overcomes me just thinking about it.

It doesn’t take me long to trim enough flowers for a bouquet. When I come back inside from the back deck, Salem is sliding the cupcakes into the oven and she’s spread the ingredients out for the icing.

“Caleb called. He’s on his way to drop off Seda.”

“All the way here?” I ask, since one or both of us usually meets him halfway. Besides, it’s late.

“That’s what he said. I assume he’s going to spend the night at his parents or something. I didn’t ask. I try not to pry into his business. I need to take Seda back-to-school shopping tomorrow and we need groceries.” She starts naming off all the things she needs to do.

“All right. Let me know what I can help with.” I grab a vase, adding some water into it and then her flowers. “These are for you.”

She smiles. “They’re beautiful.” She turns her attention back to the frosting, her nose wrinkling in a way that I know she’s thinking about something.

“What is it? You know you can talk to me about whatever is on your mind.”

She sighs, powdered sugar smeared across her cheek. “It’s just that, for so long I haven’t known what I want to do with my life, what makes me happy. I didn’t go to college, I didn’t want to, and I’ve worked a few odd jobs just to bring in some income.” She stares into the container of powdered sugar like maybe it holds the answer to everything she’s searching for. “I want to find something that’s just mine. Does that make sense?”