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Authors: Rachael Anderson

Tags: #A Romantic Comedy

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BOOK: The Reluctant Bachelorette
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Taycee shifted in her seat. What she needed was an excuse. A
reason to leave and come back later—
after
Luke had gone. Her shop. Yeah,
that would work. And it wouldn’t be a complete lie since she really did have to
be back, just not this second.

Perfect. It’s settled. Now leave.

But Luke had already pulled up a stool next to her, and now he
sat with his elbow on the counter, facing her with that lopsided smile she used
to love. A day or two’s worth of growth framed his face, and Taycee felt the
urge to reach out and run her fingers along the scruff. He looked really good.
Taycee should have run when she had the chance.

“So, how’ve you been?” he asked.


Good.”

Luke’s head shook as he studied her. “It’s crazy how the town
looks pretty much the same and yet everyone has changed so much. Is Caleb still
around? I can’t believe we didn’t stay in touch.”

And whose fault is that?
Taycee wanted to ask. “He’s in
Phoenix now, but he should be back in a few weeks. He wants to set up a
practice somewhere near here.”

“Practice?”

“Law.” How pathetic Luke didn’t know that.

“No kidding, Caleb went to law school?” Luke chuckled. “He
always did love a good argument, didn’t he?”

“Still does.” Which he would know if he’d bothered to keep in
touch.

“And he’s coming back to Shelter? Awesome. It’ll be just like
old times.”

“Yeah . . . totally.” Not. Taycee shifted in her seat, willing
Liza to hurry for once in her life. The creepy-crawly panicky feeling was back,
making her antsy to leave.

Luke’s hand dropped to the counter and tapped out a rhythm.
“Your parents still around?”

Good. Neutral topic. Taycee could handle neutral. “No. They
retired and moved to Florida a few years ago. Warmer climate and all that.”

“But you’re still here,” Luke pointed out. “I would have
thought you’d be long gone by now. What kept you here?”

So much for neutral. A quick glance at the clock and Taycee
pushed the barstool back. “Believe it or not, I actually like it here,” she
said with an edge to her voice. Before she made a complete fool of herself, she
added, “Sorry, but I’ve got to go. Great seeing you though, and good luck with
your practice.”

Taycee started past him, but a hand on her arm stopped her.
His touch felt like a warm jolt—uncomfortable yet nice at the same time.

“Hey, are you free for dinner tonight?” Luke asked.

Her eyes flew to his. Did he just ask her out? “Uh, d-dinner?”

His hand still on her arm, Luke nodded. “Yeah. You know that meal
you eat in the evening? Between lunch and dessert? What do you say? I’d love to
catch up.”

A traitorous thrill shot through Taycee. Not good. She
couldn’t say yes. Wouldn’t. “Um, sure, that’d be great.” Stupid, stupid,
stupid.

Luke’s hand fell from her arm as he reached for his cell.
“What’s your number? I’ve got a few things to do this afternoon, but I’ll call
you later when I know what time I’ll be done.”

Taycee rattled off her number as Liza approached, flashing
Luke a smile. Before she could say anything, Taycee asked, “Hey, Liza, any idea
how long it will be? I really need to get back.”

Liza shot an annoyed look her way. “Not sure, but you know
what they say, ‘Good things come to those who wait.’”

If by good, Liza meant a warm and soggy chicken salad sandwich,
then Taycee would have to take her word for it. “Can I pick it up in an hour or
so? I really need to get back.”

“Sure, whatever.” Liza turned her attention back to Luke. “So,
you’re setting up a vet clinic?”

Taycee offered Luke a quick nod and nearly bolted for the
door, leaving him in Liza’s obviously capable and collected hands. So not fair
that Liza could remain so composed while Taycee could barely utter a coherent
sentence. What she needed was air. Fresh air. Air that didn’t smell like Luke
and make her do idiotic things.

The first meeting is always the hardest. It’s all downhill
from here.

Taycee breathed in deeply. The further from the diner she got,
the calmer she felt. Maybe it was actually good that Luke was back. Maybe now she
could learn to see him as a regular guy, just like everyone else. Maybe she
could finally get over him. And maybe, just maybe, when he left again—which he
would, she was sure of it—he would take all of those memories with him.

Taycee waved goodbye to Mr. Benion, who left with yet another
sunflower arrangement, and then made her way to the back of the shop. One rose
bouquet to go and she could return to the diner for her lunch. Her
cold
lunch. Taycee frowned.

Her fingers ran across the shelf of vases, finally pulling
down a clear, square one. Perfect. Different enough to make the unoriginal red
rose bouquet look a little more original. Red roses might symbolize love, but
in Taycee’s mind, different was always better. Much, much better. Which was why
she always kept a stash of flowers like Jean Giono’s on hand for those blessed
customers who said, “Surprise me.”

They were never disappointed.

Taycee hunted through the floral refrigerator for the best
roses and baby’s breath. Minutes later, two dozen long-stemmed roses dropped to
the counter next to the clear glass vase. Time to create—her favorite part of
owning a floral shop.

Bells jingled, and someone stepped into the store. Taycee
leaned sideways to get a better look, only to immediately duck back out of the
way. Luke. Here. In her shop. Why? Taking another step sideways, Taycee’s elbow
caught the vase and sent it shattering to the floor. She groaned inwardly. So
much for staying hidden.

“Taycee? That you? Everything okay?” Luke’s voice called out.

Taycee eyed the storage closet longingly, wanting nothing more
than to disappear inside and hide like a coward. Instead, she sank to the floor
to pick up the bigger pieces. “I’m fine. Be right there.”

Footsteps approached, and a pair of sneakers came to a stop
beside the broken glass. “What happened?”

Taycee’s eyes travelled up his body. Toned calves, plaid
shorts, dark T-shirt, beautiful eyes. Why did he have to look so good? Why couldn’t
he have hair growing from his nose? Nasty warts covering his face? Why couldn’t
he smell like the animals he took care of?

Luke set a Styrofoam box that he’d been holding on the
counter. “Here, let me help you with that. Do you have a broom?”

The spicy, fried aroma of curly fries wafted through the room.
Glass shards forgotten, Taycee rose slowly, staring at the white take-out box.
“You brought me my lunch?”
No, don’t be nice. Please don’t be nice.

“Just call me your own private delivery boy.”

“Liza actually let you?” If only Taycee could have been a fly
on the wall for that conversation.

“It took some coercion, and I had to sign a waiver that I
wouldn’t tell anyone else what you ordered, since, you know, it’s classified
info.” He grinned. “She also made me promise not to eat any, which I tried
really hard not to do.”

Taycee laughed. “Liza probably laced them with something and
didn’t want you to suffer the consequences.”

“She loves you that much?”

“And then some.”

Luke shoved his hands in his pockets and leaned against the
counter. “I did eat a couple on my way here. But I feel fine, so they must be
safe.”

“Wow, how kind of you to risk your life for me.”

“I’m thoughtful like that.”

As if. Thoughtful people didn’t just disappear. Taycee opened
the take-out box and stuffed a fry into her mouth to keep from saying as much.

Luke glanced around. “Where’s that broom?”

“Broom?”

He pointed to the floor. “Broken glass?”

“Oh, right. Just a sec.” Taycee retrieved the broom from a
storage closet and started sweeping up the mess.

“I can do that. You should eat. I could hear your stomach growling
from the diner.” Luke took the broom from her hands and started sweeping.

Taycee frowned as she shoved another fry in her mouth, chewing
slowly. Luke wasn’t supposed to be the kind of guy who would sweep her floor so
she could eat. He was supposed to be thoughtless, annoying, and forgetful. He
was supposed to be a jerk.

Hmm . . . maybe he could be a jerk for
not
being a
jerk. Yeah, that might work.

Luke dumped the glass into the trash and nodded toward the
food. “You’re not eating.”

Probably because she was staring. At him. Her cheeks burned as
she forced her gaze away and picked up another fry.

The broom went back in the closet, and Luke scanned the shop.
“Nice place you got here. I’d never have pegged you for a florist.”

The fry turned bitter as she swallowed it. Wow. Did Luke
really not remember? The goodbye present? Her strange fascination with flowers
that he used to tease her about? She’d relived those memories over and over and
over again. Every word, every look, every smile. But had Luke? Apparently not.
Taycee suddenly felt as memorable as a blade of grass.

“Flowers have always been a hobby of mine,” she said. “I
opened the shop three years ago.”

“Looks like business is good.”

“It’s hit and miss, but most days I stay busy enough. I’m
really hoping to get involved with more weddings at some point. I’ve done a few
for some local families, but they couldn’t afford much, so we kept it small.
I’d love to do something bigger though—something fun and extravagant, with a
little more earning potential.”

Luke nodded. “Hopefully I’ll stay busy enough with my
practice.” He leaned against the counter and folded his arms. “I have to admit,
I’m a little worried. The town seems . . . slower somehow. But it could just be
that I’ve lived in a larger city for the past decade.”

“It’s not you.” Taycee twisted a curly fry between her
fingers. “Shelter’s kind of floundering right now. Because of increased
competition with commercial farms, the independents aren’t able to sell their
crops for as much as they used to and can’t pay off their loans. The banks, of
course, are now refusing to loan them any more money, which is why so many
farms have gone under, and why more will continue to do so. If things don’t
start picking up soon, there won’t be enough people around to keep the few
businesses left afloat. In fact, the only reason I’ve been able to keep my shop
open is because most of my business comes from neighboring towns.”

Luke’s expression turned pensive, possibly even worried. “I
was actually shocked to see the McCann farm on the market. Never thought they’d
move.”

“They had no choice.”

“That’s too bad.”

“Yeah, it is,” said Taycee. “But this is some light at the end
of the tunnel. My friend, Jessa, came up with an idea to hopefully turn things
around. She’s convinced that if the farmers will pool their resources and start
their own farmers market chain, they can sell their crops locally and get a
much higher return than they would get through wholesalers.”

Luke nodded slowly, as if considering it. “That’s going to
take some major work and money to get going. Not to mention the fact that it
will put a lot of extra strain of the farms to do their own selling.”

“I know, but it’s their only shot right now.” And pretty much
the main topic of conversation around town these days. What will the farmers do
if they’re forced into foreclosure? What will become of Shelter Springs? A pit
formed in Taycee’s stomach every time she thought about it. “A few months ago,
the mayor even hired Jessa to come up with some fund-raising ideas. Supposedly
she has something in the works, but she hasn’t said what that is yet. Whatever
it is, I hope it will be successful because the farms will be ready to start
selling mid-June, which means we have to come up with 50K by then.”

Luke whistled. “50K in two months. She’s got her work cut out
for her, doesn’t she?”

“Yeah, but she’s pretty motivated,” Taycee said. “When she was
fifteen, her aunt and uncle—Sue and Martin McCray—took her in. They even helped
pay for her college, and now she’s determined to use her newly acquired
business skills to help them back. If she doesn’t, the McCray’s will be forced
to foreclose on their farm when the loan comes due this fall.”

Luke shook his head. “Here’s hoping it works and she can pull
together that much money. I’d hate to see this town die, not when I’ve only
just come back.”

Only then did Taycee realize that she’d given Luke a reason to
think his vet clinic could survive here also, if Jessa’s plan worked. What was
she thinking? She should have kept that info to herself and told him it was
only a matter of time before the town went kaput, so he should really get out
while he still could.

Luke pushed away from the counter and flicked her under her
chin. “Well, it’s nice to that you’re still around. Enjoy your lunch.”

Taycee’s eyes followed him as he left. Seriously?
Chin-flicking? Granted, ratty jeans and an old T-shirt didn’t exactly scream
sophistication, but Taycee was no longer fourteen. Nor was she the little girl
who used to follow him and Caleb around like a lost puppy.

BOOK: The Reluctant Bachelorette
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ads

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