Rose's One Night to Forever, page 7
He must have snapped it the night he’d rescued her from the broken glass and stayed to help.
She propped the picture on the bookshelf where she could see it easily.
That was the beginning. Every day, something arrived to make her smile. None of the trinkets were expensive, many of them free or homemade. A pretty rock he found while exploring, a bouquet made from delicate willow branches tied with rustic twine.
A small metallic button with a teeny painted frog in the middle. Around the edges were the words I Get Up at the Croak of Dawn.
After that first morning, Chance accompanied his offerings, and every time he showed up to present them, Rose caught herself staring at him, wondering if he would vanish soon. If the sweet wonder of their situation would fade, or if he’d realize small-town life wasn’t what he was looking for.
A small part inside her worried he’d realize she wasn’t what he was looking for.
But he kept coming.
He invited her to join him at the movies, accompanied her on walks. Occasionally they met in the evening, but more often, they took to stealing time out of the middle of the day, joining each other for lunch.
Two weeks after he’d had dinner with her parents, Chance showed up at the flower shop with lunch for them both and a book neatly wrapped with familiar wrapping paper.
Rose pushed aside the project she’d been working on so he could spread out the food. “What’d you buy at Fallen Books?”
“It’s not mine. I stopped in to see your father, and he said your special order had come in. I offered to deliver it.”
She paused in the middle of undoing the tape. “You were visiting my dad?”
“I was,” Chance said agreeably. “You want the ham and cheese or turkey with cranberry sauce?”
Rose hesitated again. “You didn’t get those at Buns and Roses. Tansy never makes turkey sandwiches during the summer.”
“So I’ve heard. But you said they’re your favourite, so I made them myself.” He unfolded the paper and placed the sandwich on her plate then handed it over. He laughed when she sat without moving, laying a hand over hers and squeezing. “Rose? Are you away, love? Drifting with the fairies?”
Love. A shiver ran up her spine.
It was only an expression, though, so she pulled herself together. There were a lot of interesting things to unwrap just from this visit, and she didn’t mean the package. “Did you need to order some books? Is that why you went to the shop?”
“I wanted to look around again. Your parents run a quality independent store. It’s impressive.” He picked up his sandwich. “Your father and I chatted. Books, art, community events. I might have volunteered to run an art night for men. Photography, painting. My areas of expertise to go with his attempt to encourage a books-and-beer outing.”
“Art night for the guys?” Rose considered, picturing her friends’ husbands and boyfriends sitting down to such an event. “That’s fresh and new for this area.”
“It is.” Chance grinned. “We’ll have pizza and beer as well, so I assume we’ll get some blokes coming out for that alone.”
“Tansy just got the freestanding pizza oven she ordered. She was thinking about running a pop-up once a month in different spots around town. You might be able to sweet-talk her into cooking for the guys’ night out.”
He held his sandwich with one hand so he could slip the other around her waist and hold her close. “I’d prefer to sweet-talk you and have you do the convincing. If you’d consider it.”
Cuddling under his arm simply added to the coziness of their intimate moment. “I could be convinced.”
“Ah, the woman wants to be persuaded to work her magic. Any ideas what kind of encouragement this would take?” His words stole over her like a caress.
Another thing about him that she was already addicted to. He tangled her brain into mush with zero effort and made her senses sing with a single touch.
She lifted her sandwich slightly. “You made my favourite lunch. I’m already feeling positively motivated on your behalf.”
Deals were made, plans arranged.
Between the usual hours needed to run Buns and Roses and the time she spent with family over the next week, Rose found herself juggling more and more to be able to sneak in time with friends and find moments to spend with Chance. Being with him seemed as natural and as necessary as breathing.
The first Monday in August, Tansy was supposed to take off for the trail ride with Cody and Fern. Only, that morning, Rose found her sister curled up on the couch with a box of tissues beside her.
Tansy lifted watery eyes to meet her gaze. “I feel terrible.”
Shoot. “Summer colds are the worst,” Rose said with sympathy. “Want me to call Cody and cancel?”
Tansy waved a hand. “Fern’s been looking forward to it so much, canceling would break her heart. Tell her and Cody to go ahead without me.”
“Okay. Can I get you anything?”
“Tea, and then I’m going back to bed.” She sneezed violently four times in a row. “Groan. My head is going to explode.”
Rose made the calls for Tansy, brewed some tea, and then, after tucking her sister into bed, headed downstairs to track down Chance.
One month. It had only been one month since he’d arrived in Heart Falls for the second time, and yet crossing the short distance between their shops had become a habit.
She knocked on the back door of the gallery. When he answered a few seconds later, he was once again covered in paint.
“You’re dressed for the office,” Rose teased. “Thankfully, paint splatters look good on you.”
He pulled her into the shop, careful to keep his body leaning away even as he tilted his head closer. “I do seem to have a uniform, don’t I?”
She brushed a kiss over his lips, soaking in the happy sensation. She checked his fingers for paint before threading hers through his and tugging him into the wide-open space of the gallery.
Half the lights were off, but the layout was now clear. Short sections stuck out at intervals from the side walls, alternating with a central core of freestanding partitions. The openings created a maze with plenty of wall space that enticed a person to keep walking, keep discovering new treasures around the next corner.
“It’s intriguing. Somewhat mystical. Like wandering through an enchanted garden maze.” Rose spoke softly as she meandered forward.
The gallery was still bare-bones, with nothing displayed on the freshly painted walls. Pale green and creamy white, the look was peaceful and fresh.
The storage room at the back behind the Private—Staff Only sign was a different matter. Dozens and dozens of packages and tall wrapped objects were neatly organized in rows. The shelves lining three walls were more than half-full with everything from vases to sculptures to still-wrapped lumpy objects.
Curiosity bloomed, and Rose’s fingers itched to peek at all of it.
“When is the official opening again?
“August twenty-seventh.”
“Will you be done in time? It seems so quick.”
He lifted his shoulders easily. “I have a wide variety of art on hand and three galleries in western Canada that I can contact for additional work. I’ll have time, but I might steal Fern from your shop temporarily. I’ll need the help not just setting up but in the studio upstairs. I think she’d be perfect.”
Rose hesitated. “Oh.”
“It’s working with computers and art,” Chance said softly. “I thought that might appeal to her, and it’ll be a big help to me.”
“It’s probably right up her alley,” Rose admitted. “It’s kind of you to think of her.”
“She impressed me,” he said simply. Chance linked their fingers. “But if I plan to hire her, I need to hurry up and nail down the theme for the show. I want an idea that suits Heart Falls.”
“Theme?”
He waved a hand at the open space around them. “For the show. I’m not featuring a single artist this time but an eclectic mix including all sorts of mediums. That means it’s even more important to pick a theme that will unify the collection. I have one idea I’m working with, but it’s…not quite right.”
Rose nodded slowly. “I do that in the shop. Grouping collectibles in a way that makes sense.”
“You do it all the time in your floral art as well,” Chance said smoothly. “Every one of your bouquets suggests a different emotion or a heartfelt wish. They’re brilliant.”
Pride notched higher, along with a sweet joy that he’d noticed her work in such detail. “Thank you for the compliment.”
He dipped his chin. “It’s true.”
They finished the tour then made plans to get together for supper and whatever else came up. Which might mean finishing the evening at the cabin he was using at Red Boot ranch.
Once thoroughly kissed farewell, Rose went back to work.
If she spent time daydreaming about exactly what flowers she could put into an arrangement that said, I think I want this to last forever—
Well, she didn’t have to admit that to anyone. Maybe not even herself.
11
Guys’ night out had finally arrived. Chance looked around at the loud, boisterous group of men gathered in the studio space above the gallery with satisfaction.
There were eight of them there that first Friday of August. His brother, Cody, and the two men from Red Boot ranch: Zach and Finn. Two from Silver Stone ranch: Luke Stone and his best friend, Tucker Stewart. Finally, a couple of men who worked as volunteer firefighters in the community: Alex and Ryan.
They’d had pizza and beer and plenty of time to talk. Now Chance was ready to make them work for their supper.
He was still figuring out the connections between them all, but from the jeering and teasing going on, the men were good-naturedly willing to give anything a go for one night.
Even something as off-the-wall for them as picking up a paintbrush.
Alex held one in the air. “You sure you don’t have a drum for me to bang on instead of a piece of canvas?”
“You’re good with a brush,” Ryan told him. “Oh, wait, that was a scrub brush. My bad.”
“I can paint,” Zach announced. “Or so Julia tells me.”
“Walls don’t count,” Finn deadpanned.
“They were very artistically done walls,” Zach insisted.
Finn lowered his beer and stared at his friend. “They were brown. Not beige or mocha or cinnamon or umber. Brown.”
Amused chuckles sounded from the group, then Luke turned to Chance. “We promised we’d try, so what are we painting? Because frankly, I drew a barn once, and it looked like a whale.”
“I can draw a whale and make it look like a barn,” Tucker offered before leaning toward Finn. “I’m kind of impressed you know that many other names for brown.”
Finn raised a brow and a middle finger.
They both grinned.
“I think we need to start with painting by numbers. Then at least I can make it look like something.” Cody shook his head. “You got all the talent, bro. I occasionally draw well enough that people can tell what it is, but it’s never realistic. My stuff usually looks like comic images instead of a photograph of the scene.”
“You don’t really expect us to make anything worth hanging on a wall, do you?” Tucker leaned back in his chair and picked up his beer again.
“Probably not, but who knows? Embrace imperfection and jump right in.” Chance explained the technique they’d be trying then glanced around at the gathering. “You can’t do this wrong. Just have a go, and we’ll see if there’s anything worthwhile when we’re done.”
They all still hesitated, brushes held tentatively in the air.
He tried again. “Here’s your Irish courage. Drink another beer and pretend you’re on the pig’s back.”
Cody choked. “Where? What?”
Chance laughed. “It means in a mood to celebrate. Listen up. It’s time to be decisive. Take action.”
He picked up his own brush and loaded it with paint. A dozen bold strokes later, he had enough paint on the canvas to see energy come alive.
Once movement started around him, he ignored the others and continued, lured in by the swoop and slide of colour. By the excitement of letting go and following the ideas whispered in his ear by his muse.
When he finally put down his brush, conversations had once again picked up around the room. The occasional burst of laughter. A hum of approval or someone puzzling out a challenge.
Zach shook his head as he poked his brush at his canvas, but Cody slapped him on the shoulder and nodded in admiration. “That’s good. I can see your cabin at the ranch. And those are the mountains beyond the arena.”
Finn leaned over and examined the painting. “Well, damn. Not too shabby, Zach.”
“One success story tonight, at least,” Tucker said. “Mine, not so much.”
Luke studied his friend’s art for a moment then grinned. “You painted a castle and a dragon. I like it.”
Tucker rubbed at his mouth before snickering. “Try hay bales and a kitten. I like your interpretation better. Let’s go with that.”
The howls of laughter echoed off the roof.
“How surprising. A rose.” They’d finally settled down, and Ryan gestured to Chance’s painting. “I think your subconscious is telling you something.”
Deep rumbles of amusement struck as Chance whipped his head around to examine his own painting closer. Background colours of muted greens, gold and pale pink blended into a hazy summer field, but the main image, front and center, while somewhat abstract, was clearly a single deep-red rose. “Well, I’ll be damned. You’re right.”
“Say that again. I like the sounds of it,” Tucker said with a smirk.
“Painting roses. Must mean something, right, Chance?” Zach teased.
He stared at the painting, the truth smacking him upside the head. “I’m in love with her.”
Absolute silence came back. Which would’ve been frightening, except, as Chance glanced around at their faces, every one of the guys was grinning from ear to ear.
Cody shook his head in disbelief. “You say that as if it’s a surprise.”
The fact parts of Chance’s brain were still tumbling into comprehension was enough to keep his mouth shut. He’d known she was special. Known he wanted more.
Love? Of course it was love.
Thankfully, not one of the men around him seemed upset by how quickly he had fallen. To the contrary, the guys shoved him ahead at full force.
“Now the question remains, what do you do about it?” Tucker raised a brow. “It’s time to be decisive. Take action.”
The repeat of his earlier words made Chance grin. “I’ll get right on that. Suggestions?”
“Buy a big bouquet of flowers, go down on one knee, and spill the beans.” Cody shrugged. “Works in the movies.”
“Do you suggest I buy the flowers from her and have her wondering what I’m doing, or piss her off by buying them elsewhere?” Chance asked dryly. He considered again. “You really think I should bring flowers to a woman who owns a flower shop?”
Finn shrugged. “I bring horse-related things to a woman who loves horses all the time. It seems logical.”
“Kelli wants me to do things with her,” Luke volunteered.
His comment was greeted by a chorus of masculine hoots.
He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, not that. Jerks. I mean, yes that, but also other than sex. Love languages, that sort of thing. Some people like gifts; some like acts of service. You know. Plus, Kelli likes when I let her do the things she wants to do.”
Tucker’s grin widened ever more. “You were doing well there for a minute then veered right back into amusing territory.”
Luke threw his empty beer can at Tucker’s head. “Ass.”
“But he’s right.” Cody looked thoughtful. “If you’re serious about this, figuring out what makes Rose tick is important.”
“She bought me one year,” Zach offered unhelpfully. “At the bachelor auction, I mean.”
Just the mention of it made Chance’s blood heat. “Your point? And I’d tread carefully if I were you.”
The other man’s cheerful visage never wavered. “She bought me so I could dance with her at a wedding.” A dramatic sigh escaped him. “Then she politely manoeuvred it so there was zero chance for a good-night kiss, and she pretty much hit on my car.”
Chance was lost. “Your car? What the feck are you talking about, mate?”
“Delilah,” Zach said brightly. “I’ll let you meet her later if you’d like.”
“Just don’t expect to get to drive her,” Finn said blandly. “Mind if I interpret my best friend’s not-so-solid attempt at reassuring you?”
“Someone should,” Cody complained.
Despite his frustrations, despite the change of everything in his life and the uncertainty of the one thing he was really hoping for, Chance had to admit this was entertaining and satisfying. These men, this night, being so easily accepted into their midst.
Zach’s words suddenly made sense as Chance’s brain worked out the puzzle. “Let me take a stab. You’re saying Rose is a woman who knows her mind. She won’t be pushed by rote or ritual into simply saying yes if she doesn’t want to.”
“Exactly.” Zach leaned forward. “So why don’t you just be yourself and tell her what you’re hoping for?”
Be himself. It was a shockingly simple solution.
One that would take hours and hours to actually follow through on, but hopefully in the end, it would succeed in convincing Rose what she’d come to mean to him.
Chance enjoyed the rest of the evening, albeit a little distractedly. But the instant the last of his new friends left the studio, he pulled out a canvas and went to work.
12
Two weeks before Chance’s gallery opening, Rose woke up on the wrong side of the bed, mad about being mad.
The entire day that followed, she forced herself to be kind to her customers. To keep a smile on her face when what she really wanted was to go hide in the shower and have a good long cry.
