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I stood back and admired my handiwork.
Del tipped her head to the side and frowned. “I think it needs to move a little bit to the right.”
“No, no,” Flo tsked. “I think it needs to come to the left and maybe even down a smidge.”
Ah, a smidge. Who knows how much that was? I sure as heck didn’t. “Why don’t we keep it where we have it, and maybe it will grow on you.”
“Or we can move it to the right, and then it can grow on us?” Del suggested.
Installation of my wreaths and boughs was my least favorite part of my job. I loved creating and crafting until everything came together. I loved when I revealed my hard work to my customers—but hanging them? No, thank you. I wished I could tell people I didn’t install them, but I knew most people loved that they didn’t have to do anything other than admire the festive flare the wreaths and boughs brought to their porches and doors.
Everyone in Adams had at least one or two of my wreaths and boughs. They became the unofficial decoration for Adams over the years.
“This is the same place you have your summer wreath, so I think you should put your fall one here, too,” I pointed out.
“Is it?” Del and Flo replied in unison.
“It is,” I assured them.
The sisters pursed their lips and tapped their chins.
Del and Flo were the oldest living residents of Adams, and they were my best customers. They had a wreath or bough for every occasion and went all out for Christmas. Every Christmas, they ordered four new wreaths and boughs to line all of the deck railings. When I was done with their house, it looked like something from one of those Hallmark movies.
After all those years of decorating their porch, they were suddenly questioning my ability to know what looked good.
“Can I propose something?” Flo asked.
“Oh, here we go.” Del rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest.
“What if we get another wreath and put one on the door and one on the center of the porch?” Flo propped her hands on her hips. “And maybe a bough on each side of the wreath on the porch.”
“I can’t believe I will say this, but that is a good idea, Flo.” Del moved to the front door. “You know what to do, Shelby Lyn. Send us the bill.”
The sisters walked into the house and shut the door in my face.
Two boughs and a wreath were a good order, but I knew Flo and Del. would want them within a week.
I was already backed up with orders, and now I was going to be even more behind.
The front door opened, and Del stuck her head out. “Make sure you charge us appropriately for your time, Shelby Lyn. We all know you need to raise your prices, but you don’t.” She glanced over her shoulder into the house. “This is Flo’s idea, so make her pay for it.” She threw me a wink and shut the door.
My shoulders slumped, and a sigh escaped my lips.
More money was good, but it was also more work.
I turned on my heel and stomped down the steps. My eyes scanned the street, and fell on a blue truck headed toward me.
A blue truck that looked exactly like the one Wilder Presley drove in high school.
The truck moved closer, and my jaw dropped.
It was Wilder Presley.
Oh no.
No, no, no.
Now was not the time for me to see Wilder.
I was frustrated, hungover from too much Southern, and wearing ratty sweats. This was not how I wanted Wilder to see me after nine years.
My truck was parked across the street, but I knew I wouldn’t get to it before Wilder. I looked around frantically for a hole to open up and swallow me whole.
“Shelby Lyn?” Wilder called.
Oh god. He saw me. HE SAW ME!
He leaned out the window and raised his hand to me.
NO!
I put up my hand to shield my face and turned on my heel back to Flo and Del’s house. My feet got tangled beneath me, and I fell ass over tea kettle into the bushes lining the sidewalk. I got a face full of boxwood shrub.
“Kill me now,” I wheezed.
“Shelby Lyn!” Wilder called. Wilder was the only one who called me by my full name. Missy only did when she was trying to get my attention; even my mom and dad never called me Shelby Lyn.
Wilder always had.
I struggled to get my hand on something solid to help hoist my ass off the ground and hoped I would suddenly be able to teleport. Teleport to anywhere but here. Heck, I would gladly be teleported back in time to the seventh grade when I got my period and bled through my pants in Art class. The absolute worst day of my life was better than me butt up in a bush with Wilder Presley as my sole audience.
Strong hands circled my waist and lifted me off the ground.
“Damn, girl, you went down like a ton of bricks.”
I closed my eyes and felt my cheeks heat.
Of course, Macon Tanner was with Wilder.
“Shut up, Macon,” Wilder grunted.
Wilder set me on my feet, and I felt his hands brush my pants off.
“Shelby!” Flo called. “Are you okay?”
And now Flo and Del were going to join the audience in my embarrassment.
Brilliant.
“Did you poke yourself in the eye or something?” Macon asked. “I’m a doctor. Let me take a look.”
I knew Macon was a doctor. Everyone in Adams knew it.
I didn’t need a doctor; I needed a magician to poof me out of here.
“I’m fine,” I whispered.
“Let me look at her,” Macon insisted.
“Let Macon look at you, Shelby. You fell mighty hard. It was like you had run into a wall, and down you went,” Flo worried.
“I’m fine,” I said louder. I opened my eyes and was face to face with Wilder. Well, it was more like face to throat since he was four inches taller than me. I tipped my head back, and it felt like I hit that brick wall Flo had walked about.
“Are you okay?” he asked softly.
Not at all. “Yeah, I’m okay. I, uh, remembered I needed to talk to Flo, and my feet went one way, and my body went the other way.” I pushed my hair out of my face and pasted a smile on my lips. “Thanks for the hoist up.” Hoist up? What, was Wilder a crane now? Jesus, Shelby.
“I think you should let me look you over,” Macon interrupted. “You really did fall like a dead tree.”
Macon’s analogies were so flattering. I was a ton of bricks and now a dead tree. I could sort of see why his marriage hadn’t worked out. “I’m fine, really. Nothing hurts, and I’m not bleeding.” I’m sure later I would need some ice and aspirin, but for now, my dignity was the only thing that hurt. “I really need to get going. I have another installation I need to get to.”
“What did you have to tell me, sweetheart?” Flo asked.
Oh crap. The reason why I spun around like an idiot was because I had to tell Flo something. I racked my brain for something intelligent to say. “Don’t worry about paying for the other wreath. It’s on me.” OH MY GOD! That was the best thing I could think of to say. I was mad I had to make more for Flo and Del, and not I had just told her I would pretty much do it for free. IDIOT!
Flo stepped back and clutched her hand to her chest. She looked from Wilder and back to me. She tipped her head to the side, and her eyes lit up.
I had seen that look before. Flo got that look when she was cooking up a wild idea; in the end, it always seemed to implode.
I did not like her looking at me like that.
“You don’t worry about making that wreath for free, honey. You know I’ll pay for it.” She smiled at Wilder. “Though, I do think maybe you should fit Wilder into your schedule.”
“What?” I whispered.
“For a wreath, silly.” She smiled wide and put her hand on Wilder’s shoulder. “You know he bought the red two-story house over on Hancock road, right? I bet that place would be beautiful with your wreaths and boughs all over. He has an amazing deck.”
My eyes bugged out, and Macon sputtered. “Do you have an amazing deck?” Macon croaked.
Wilder cleared his throat and shrugged. “Uh, well, it’s a pretty good size. Nothing to complain about.”
I closed my eyes and wished the earth to swallow me whole again.
“It sure could use some decoration,” Flo pointed out. “You should have Shelby come by and take a look.”
“Oh, uh, I have some installations today, and then I need to get back to creating... things.” And I suddenly forgot what it was I made every day. “I’m pretty busy for the next days, weeks, even months.” Calm down, Shelby. I took a deep breath and smiled. “Bye!” I pulled out of Wilder’s hold and ran to my truck across the street.
“Shelby Lyn,” Wilder called.
I raised my hand over my head and waved. “Thanks for the hoist!” My goodness, I was a putz. I slipped into my truck and shifted into drive as soon as I turned the key. I fumbled with my seat belt as I rounded the corner at the end of the street but managed to get it snapped in.
How did that just happen?
How had Wilder Presley just appeared out of nowhere for me to make a complete fool of myself?
My. God.
I wasn’t going to be able to leave the house again.
Nope, I was becoming a hermit, and that was final.
*
