Winning Her Love. Harmony Evans

hands around it.

      “Need any help with that?” Gregory offered.

      Mrs. Barnell shook her head. “These flowers and the walk I take every day to get here are the reasons I’m still active. After my husband, Frank, died...”

      Her voice faded away, and she seemed lost in her thoughts. A few seconds later, she straightened her shoulders and looked Gregory up and down.

      “It’s a shame you’re not married.”

      Vanessa’s mouth dropped open slightly at Mrs. Barnell’s remark.

      Anyone overhearing the conversation and who didn’t know her would probably think Maisie was just some old busybody handing out commentary nobody wanted to hear on matters that were none of her business.

      But Vanessa knew better. The woman was the unofficial matriarch of Bay Point. Locals deemed anything she said either wacky or wise. Despite her eccentric personality, Mrs. Barnell was well respected in the community.

      Gregory dropped his hands and smiled patiently, as if he wasn’t at all shocked at her question.

      “Right now I think the town needs me more than I need a wife.”

      Mrs. Barnell nodded. “That we do, Mayor,” she agreed, a trace of wistfulness in her voice. She glanced down at the flowers. “But without love, even the most beautiful things can wither away and die.”

      Vanessa stepped around the counter and said nothing, refusing to let the old woman’s words infiltrate her heart. She knew what it was like to live without love, and she was surviving just fine. It was when she was in love that she felt as if she were dying.

      As she guided Maisie the short distance to the door, Gregory followed, as though he were afraid neither woman would make it. While she appreciated his consideration, it felt like an imposition, too. She wasn’t used to a man like him looking out for her, at least not without wanting something in return.

      She kept her eyes focused on the store window, where the name of her beloved shop, Blooms in Paradise, was gracefully scripted in frosted white letters on the glass. She opened the front door and a mildly warm breeze, tinged around the edges with the chill of an impending storm, rushed into the room.

      “It looks and feels like it’s going to rain any second,” said Mrs. Barnell, her teeth chattering slightly. “I’d better hurry.”

      Vanessa stuck her head outside. “It certainly does. Give me a call when you get home so I know you arrived safely.”

      When her friend was gone, she swiftly closed the door. The bell was still tinkling as she flipped the small plastic sign over from Open to Closed.

      Vanessa took a deep breath before turning and brushing past Gregory, and she could feel his eyes on her back. It warmed and seared her most pleasurably, spine to calves, making her want to run away, a sensory danger sign.

      She stopped in front of the two refrigerated cases that protected and displayed her inventory of flowers. Without turning, words tumbled out as if she were in a hurry, even though she had all the time in the world.

      “What sort of arrangement do you need, Mayor? If you want something simple, I can put it together for you now. If you want something special, I can have it delivered tomorrow.”

      She opened the door of one of the cases. The rush of air seemed unusually cold. As she reached in and switched off the fluorescent light for the evening, her nipples hardened.

      Vanessa knew she should have worn a padded bra underneath her outfit, but the sheer one was the only one in her collection that was clean. Besides, she’d opened the doors of her flower cases countless times all day, and her breasts had never reacted so obviously before.

      Stepping back, Vanessa shut the door and watched his reflection morph in the glass, flattening and changing before her very eyes.

      “I don’t need flowers, Ms. Hamilton. I need a favor.”

      Disappointment lodged in her throat. I knew it. At the same time, she was oddly euphoric that he wasn’t there to buy flowers for another woman.

      She quickly turned to face him, her navy maxi skirt swishing around her slim legs and calves.

      Gregory’s eyes dropped to her cowl-neck blouse. Even with a quick glance down, she could see that the white silky fabric had tented ever so slightly around her nipples.

      Her head snapped up and so did his glance, and she blushed.

      It’s not him. It’s the cold air! she told herself.

      Though her cheeks burned hot and his lips curved into a playful smile, she brazenly refused to cross her arms and instead placed her hands on her hips. She didn’t want him to know she was embarrassed by what he saw, and yet she didn’t want to cover up, either.

      “What kind of favor? If it’s a bodyguard you need, clearly that’s not my expertise,” she replied, forking a thumb to the case behind her.

      “I would imagine that the thorns of a rose would make a pretty good weapon,” Gregory replied, and then laughed. “Besides, why would I need a bodyguard?”

      She stared at him in disbelief. “I read the Courier this morning. The whole town is talking, especially the people who own businesses along Ocean Avenue.”

      He clasped his hands behind him, turned and walked to the window. “Ah yes, the downtown redevelopment project. And what are the people saying?”

      “That you’ve back-ended them. That you’ve put the wheels in motion without any input from the people your plan will be affecting the most.”

      Gregory heeled around, unclasped his hands and held them palm open against his chest.

      “There’s been talk about redeveloping downtown for years. I’m only doing what my predecessor always wanted to do but could never seem to get done.”

      Vanessa shook her head in disgust, opened the second flower case and turned out the lights. Under Gregory’s watchful eyes, the refrigerated air in the case seemed even chillier now. Her nipples tightened painfully beneath the silk of her bra, but she no longer cared.

      Her spirit drew strength from the colorful blooms, reminding her of what was important.

      Protecting her livelihood. That was what mattered.

      She closed the door, sealing the air and the flowers for the night. “Passing the buck of blame? Watch it, Mayor Langston,” she warned icily, her breath misting against the glass. “You’re starting to sound like a politician.”

      Vanessa saw his reflection move toward her, so she abruptly turned and went behind the counter, grateful for the barrier between them.

      Gregory approached and raised an eyebrow. “Mrs. Barnell didn’t mention one word about the redevelopment. If anyone would have anything to say, it would be her.”

      Vanessa stabbed at the buttons on her cash register until the drawer opened. “Maisie is a kind, decent-hearted woman. Sadly, she has too much respect for you to call you out on what is a sorely misguided plan.”

      Gregory chuckled, rankling her nerves. “Revitalizing Bay Point’s downtown to make it more attractive for everyone is a misguided plan?”

      “Don’t oversimplify things, Mayor,” she snapped, narrowing her eyes. “You’re going to tear down some of our beautiful historic downtown buildings and replace them with ugly, tacky condos.”

      “Lifestyle centers,” he corrected.

      “Strip malls and overpriced plywood boxes,” she shot back. “Both completely devoid of any structural beauty.”

      “No, Vanessa,” Gregory replied in a slow and even tone. “Gorgeous contemporary living spaces where residents have access to everything they need.”

      Instead of replying, she shook her head and quickly counted the cash