‘What can I get you?’ Leanne asked.
Nick stared around the shop in confusion. He’d never bought flowers before. Actually, that was a lie – he’d bought the odd bouquet, but the purchase had always been over the phone, and he’d never actually seen what he’d bought until after the event. Sometimes not even then, if it was an “It’s not you, it’s me” bouquet. Not that he’d sent many of those, but there was one memorable occasion when he’d been dating a fellow rider, and after their third date she’d started dropping hints about wedding venues. He’d tried to let her down gently, hence the flowers after he broken it off with her, but…
‘Who are they for, and what’s the occasion?’ Leanne tried again.
‘Oh, I, er, sorry Leanne, it’s just I’ve never been inside a florist shop before, and it’s just so… flowery.’
‘It would be, wouldn’t it,’ Leanne said dryly. ‘I mean, that’s what florists do, sell flowers. And the odd plant.’
‘Yes, well.’ He glanced about helplessly. There were just so many to choose from. Was he expected to grab a handful himself, or pick some from each and somehow put them together so they didn’t look like he’d raided the nearest hedgerow?
‘Who are they for?’ Leanne persisted. ‘Mother? Girlfriend? Roses always go down well. Red ones for love, pink ones if you’re not sure. White are classy, but they tend to say “marriage”, so unless you want her to get the wrong idea…?’
‘Er, Tia. They’re for Tia.’
‘Flowers for Tia, eh? So, tell me, Mr Saunders, what have you done that you feel you need to say sorry for?’ Leanne crossed her arms and glowered at him.
‘Nothing!’ Nick objected, then clarified it with, ‘Not that I know of.’ He hesitated then let out a sigh. ‘If you must know, she’s decided to go back to Mum’s.’ Leanne would find out sooner or later anyway, so he didn’t see the point in keeping it a secret. Besides, he mused, she might be able to help.
Leanne uncrossed her arms, her expression sympathetic. ‘Really? Why?’
‘I don’t know,’ he replied miserably. ‘She’s not been happy for a while, but she won’t tell me what’s wrong.’ Even as the words left his lips, he wondered why he was airing his dirty laundry to Leanne. She and Tia were friends of sorts, but Tia hadn’t really encouraged their friendship to continue since her accident. It was as if Tia was pushing away everyone from her previous life, despite Leanne’s best efforts.
‘Hiya, Lea.’
Nick jerked around at the sound of a new voice. Stevie from the tea shop down the road was closing the door behind her, giving him time to arrange his face into a neutral expression. He was trying not to show he found her attractive, in a scatty, ditzy way, and was also desperately trying not to remember the feel of her soft body in his arms and the sight of her scantily-clad curves. She looked quite delectable right now, actually, with her hair dripping down her face.
‘Awful weather,’ she announced to the shop, then stopped as she saw him.
It was probably the awful weather she’d just mentioned, combined with coming in out of the rain and into the warmth of the florist, which caused her cheeks to pink up and her eyes to widen.
Nick was glad he’d had time to compose himself first and had tamed his reaction to her before she’d noticed him. Then he caught Leanne’s knowing glance and it was his turn to blush.
‘It’s the worst rain in living memory. I blame global warming,’ Leanne said, raising her eyebrows at him and sending him a meaningful look, which Nick chose to ignore.
‘I don’t know why I bother putting fresh flowers on the table, because there aren’t any customers to appreciate them,’ Stevie grumbled, directing her comments to a bucketful of creamy, frilly flowers. ‘The weather is scaring them off. Still, it’s an excuse to get out of the flat. My mother is driving me mad, and don’t get me started on my sister and those horrid brats of hers.’
‘Don’t you like kids?’ Nick blurted out, then wished he’d kept his mouth shut. Or if he absolutely felt the need to talk, the good old British weather was a decent option and that was a line which was already being explored. What was wrong with him?!
Stevie looked at him for the first time since she’d entered the shop. ‘I do like children actually,’ she said, ‘and I love my nieces, but I’d love them more if I hadn’t been crammed in a two-bedroom flat with them for the past day and a half.’ She shook her head. ‘I’d also love them more if they weren’t so spoiled and I hadn’t had to sleep on the sofa for two long, lumpy nights.’
‘Oh, um, I see. I didn’t mean anything by it, just making conversation,’ Nick stuttered, wishing Leanne would get a bloody move on with his order. She seemed to be deliberately slow. Surely wrapping a few stems shouldn’t take this long?
‘Getting on your nerves, are they, love?’ Leanne said. ‘When are they going back?’
‘Tomorrow morning, thank goodness. I don’t think I can stand another day. There are only so many things you can do indoors to keep a pair of lively kids entertained, and my poor little flat is hardly child-friendly. Once I’m done here, I’ll pop to the newsagents and see if they’ve got any crayons. Although I suspect it will only keep them quiet for ten minutes.’
‘Do they ride?’ Nick found himself asking, without meaning to. The words just slipped from between his lips without any instruction from his brain.
‘Excuse me?’ Stevie said.
Even Leanne paused in her slow bouquet-making to look from him to Stevie.
‘Ride, as in horses?’ he clarified, wishing he would shut up but not seeming able to control his mouth.
‘I’ve no idea,’ Stevie replied. ‘But I suspect they don’t. In fact, I’d be surprised if they know what a horse looks like.’
‘Do you?’
‘Of course, I do. What do you take me for?’
‘I mean ride, not do you know what a horse looks like.’
‘Oh. No, I don’t.’
‘Why don’t you come up to the stables this afternoon and bring your nieces. I’ve got an indoor arena, so they won’t get wet. And two of my horses are quiet, old lads; they’ll be gentle with the children.’
‘I think you probably need to worry about the kids being gentle with your horses, rather than the other way around,’ Stevie quipped, then became serious. ‘Thank you, it’s a kind offer, but—’
‘Go for it!’ Leanne cried. ‘At least it gets them out of your hair for an hour, and you never know, you might enjoy yourself.’
‘Um, OK, then, if you’re sure?’ Stevie said to him.
Nick was never more unsure than he’d been in his life. ‘I’m sure,’ he said. Maybe he could rope Tia into helping, even if it was only with digging out the old riding hats they’d acquired over the years and finding a couple to fit small heads. It might do his sister good. He gave Stevie the address and the phone number of The Furlongs and watched as she keyed it into her phone. A little part of him wished she’d give him her mobile number in exchange, but before he could suggest it, Leanne spoke.
‘That’s today sorted out,’ the florist said to Stevie, ‘and tomorrow you should come to Sunday lunch with us.’
‘Really? That’s wonderful, thank you!’ Stevie beamed, and Nick watched the way her eyes crinkled slightly at the corners, and her nose crinkled too, like a happy puppy. She had freckles across it, and for some reason he had an urge to kiss them.
He cleared his throat and said to Leanne, ‘How much do I owe you?’
‘Seventeen pounds thirty-five, please, and give Tia my love. Tell her I’ll ring her later and arrange an evening out, just us girls. You’ll come too, won’t you, Stevie?’
Nick was chuckling to himself as he left the shop. The expression on Stevie’s face had been priceless and he bet she was remembering the last time she’d gone out for a drink with Leanne Green.
But he did find himself hoping he’d be the one to tuck her into bed again.