“Be right there,” I called around a mouthful of food when I heard the bell for the front door open. It was just past one in the afternoon and things had only just now started to quiet down enough for me to try and cram in a quick lunch break. I’d managed to convince Kelly, my boss and owner of the flower shop, to go home early, despite the crush of early Valentine’s Day shoppers. Kelly had only recently found out she was pregnant with her second child and the morning sickness was particularly bad this time around. I knew it had killed her to have to leave during such a busy time, but since she’d been practically hanging over the trash can in the back room all morning, it hadn’t made sense for her to try and stick it out.

Besides, the shop being busy kept me busy, which meant I didn’t have to think about Harrison Garrison and his amazing mouth… when he wasn’t using it to speak, anyway.

It’d been more than thirty-six hours since my disastrous date with the rude asshole, and yet I still couldn’t get him out of my head.

Which made no sense because he’d been a dick pretty much from the moment he’d walked into the restaurant, eyed me waiting for him by the hostess stand, and had rudely – and loudly – asked if I was the guy from Heart2Heart.

But I knew my traitorous mind was hung up on those few moments where I’d seen something in his eyes other than irritation or derision.

After our date – no, hookup, because like pretty much every other guy I’d been with since I’d let the captain of my high school’s wrestling team fuck me in the locker room at school when I was sixteen, Harrison the douche had also only deemed me worthy of being a quick, anonymous fuck – I’d immediately gone home, deleted my Heart2Heart account, eaten a pint of cookie dough ice cream, and binge watched the first season of Game of Thrones until Kira had come home.

I’d managed to hold it together as she’d enthused about how amazing her fiancé was and the plans he’d made for them to go celebrate Valentine’s Day at a bed-and-breakfast in New Hampshire or Vermont or some other perfect place like that. But as soon as she’d asked me how my date with Hottie Harrison had gone, I’d bawled like a baby and told her every humiliating detail from how he’d looked down on me from the moment he’d found out I was nothing more than a pusher of flower bouquets to my willingness to throw out all sense of decorum and let him fuck me up against the bathroom sink. Kira had immediately gone to the freezer, grabbed another container of ice cream, and had shared it with me as she’d reminded me my perfect guy was still out there and one day he’d find me and see past the flashy clothes and the pretty face and see… me.

I wanted to believe her, I really did. But I’d kissed a lot of frogs in my day… and not one had turned into a prince.

I’d almost asked her what happened if not everyone got the fairytale ending, but I’d been too afraid of the answer.

“Sorry about that,” I said as I hurried through the swing door to the front of the shop. “How can I help—”

My words dropped off when I saw who my customer was.

Then my belly dropped off – like, to my knees.

God, he really was beautiful.

“Harrison,” I breathed, then remembered I wasn’t supposed to be doing that shit. I was pissed at him. He was the king of the goddamned frogs.

“What can I do for you?” I asked.

He was dressed in what looked like another custom-made suit, though this one was charcoal gray. His hands were clasped behind his back and he was shifting back and forth on his feet – almost like he was uncomfortable.

“I need some help picking out some flowers.”

That was it? That was what he had to say to me? Was he fucking kidding?

Anger stirred in my belly and before I could stop myself I said, “Guys that you’re meeting for quick fucks don’t generally expect flowers, Mr. Garrison.”

I wasn’t sure, but it looked like he flinched. But his posture didn’t change, and his expression didn’t soften. If I hadn’t known better, I would have thought he had a board strapped to his back, he was so damn stiff.

“Fine,” I sighed. “What kind of flowers are you looking for?” I headed for the refrigerator where we kept the premade bouquets, because no chance in hell was I going to offer to make him a custom bouquet, no matter what the circumstances.

I was reaching for the handle of the door to pull out a large rose bouquet, since you couldn’t go wrong with roses, when I sensed him behind me.

Right behind me.

“You said flowers could help me say something, right? Something I might not know how to say otherwise?”

I could feel his breath on the back of my neck, that’s how close he was.

I shivered in anticipation. What would he do if I leaned back against him?

He’d probably drag you into the back room and bend you over a counter.

Despite myself, all I could think was, yes, please.

“Um, yes, that’s right,” I said. God, why did being around him make me sound like someone who couldn’t talk? I’d said um more times in the past two days than I had in my entire life. And what was with my sweaty palms? And ticked-up breathing?

I closed my eyes when Harrison’s body actually pressed against the back of mine. Holy hell, if he kept this up, he wouldn’t even need to drag me to the back room. I’d let him fuck me right here.

“I need to apologize to someone.”

I froze at that, then sucked in a breath. No way.

“You see, I messed up our date the other night. I thought it was something it wasn’t, and I hurt him… badly. I treated him like he was nothing more than…”

I closed my eyes as his words dropped off. Neither of us needed him to finish the statement.

“Sounds like an honest mistake,” I murmured, though I had no idea why I was making excuses for him.

“No,” he said. I swore I felt him nuzzle the back of my neck, but I couldn’t be sure. “I wanted it to be something other than a date. I wouldn’t let myself believe any different.”

“Why not?” I asked.

“Because then I’d have to accept the truth.”

The defeat in his voice had me turning around. Harrison didn’t move even a little. His head was hung and I was looking up at him so we were practically nose to nose.

“What truth?” I whispered.

He didn’t answer at first and I couldn’t stop myself from reaching up to run my fingers along his cheek. “What truth, Harrison?” I urged.

“He didn’t leave because he didn’t want to be married to anyone… he left because he didn’t want to be married to me.”

Married?

He’d been engaged?

And dumped?

“Harrison,” I said softly, unable to keep the pity out of my voice.

Harrison straightened and stepped back. “His name was Kyle. We were together for three years, engaged for one of them. He wanted a big wedding. Lots of guests, flowers everywhere, the whole nine yards. I waited at that altar for him for what felt like a lifetime. His father was the one who had to bring me the note…”

I swallowed hard. “He left you at the altar?” I said in disbelief.

But it was like I hadn’t spoken. “I can’t do this. That was all the note said. I haven’t seen him since.”

“When?” I croaked. “When did all this happen?”

“Three months ago.”

“I’m sorry—”

Harrison shook his head. “Please, don’t,” he murmured. “That’s all I ever hear these days.”

I nodded in understanding.

“Did he ever explain…?” I began, but stopped when Harrison shook his head.

“He used my laptop sometimes. I accidentally mistyped something I was looking up in the search engine and it brought up the browser history. It was for Grindr. So I looked at all the history. There was Grindr, Tinder, Craigslist – I even got to see some of the ads he looked up. Some of the searches were almost a year old… others happened the day before the wedding. I found the Heart2Heart app in my computer’s trash a few days ago. When I looked up their site and saw that it was supposedly a matchmaking app, something inside of me just… I don’t know,” he admitted with a shake of his head.

“Him just cheating on you was easier,” I offered gently. “But knowing he was looking for another relationship…”

“Yeah,” Harrison said. “He went from being an asshole who couldn’t keep his dick in his pants to an asshole who was looking for Mr. Right because I wasn’t even Mr. Good Enough.”

“He’s an idiot,” I said without thinking.

Harrison’s smile was wan and sad – like he knew I didn’t have cause to say what I’d said. In truth, I didn’t. I didn’t know the first thing about Harrison. But the fact that he’d come down here and shared something so incredibly personal with me just to make me feel better was pretty telling.

“I downloaded the Heart2Heart app and made an account so I could prove to myself it was a sham… that it was just another hookup site. When it matched me with you, I knew it had to be.”

His words hurt more than I wanted to admit.

“Yeah,” I said. “I’m clearly not your type.” I was about to make an excuse to escape to the back room so I could lick my wounds and pull myself together when Harrison closed the distance between us, forcing me back against the refrigerator behind me. His big hands came up to completely wrap around my upper arms, a reminder of how different we were in every way.

“Someone who won’t run when life gets messy,” Harrison murmured. “That’s what you answered for the question that asked what your ideal quality in a partner is, right?”

I managed a nod because I was in complete shock. He’d read my profile and remembered the details?

“You want someone who appreciates staying at home just as much as going out to meet up with friends. Someone who can laugh at themselves and go with the flow. You’re unapologetic about who you are and what you like and you want someone who doesn’t just accept that, but cherishes it. You deserve that, Nate.”

Oh God, how had he figured out that last part about wanting to be cherished for who I was? I hadn’t put that in my profile.

“Nobody, computer or human, would look at you and me and think we’re a good fit. You deserve so much better than me. I’m domineering, controlling, rigid. I work too much because I’m afraid of what will happen if I don’t. Failure isn’t even in my vocabulary and I won’t run from life when it gets messy because I won’t let it get messy. Literally and figuratively. You live life in color, Nate. I live it in black and white.” He dropped his hands and stepped back. “Mixing those colors would just dull them… or take them away altogether.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. I wanted to tell him he was wrong, but what if he wasn’t? Yes, we had an underlying chemistry neither of us could deny, but that wasn’t enough. Chemistry had never been my problem with other guys. I wanted the stuff that came after chemistry. I wanted whatever it was that led to the white picket fence and the two-point-five kids and the minivan in the garage.

Okay, so maybe not a minivan, but all the rest of that stuff was important to me. I’d been searching for it my whole adult life.

“I’m sorry about the other night,” Harrison continued. “Just don’t… don’t give up on trying to meet the right guy because of what I said… and did.”

He turned to leave, and I knew I needed to let him.

It would be easier that way.

But I’d never done things the easy way – not since my grandfather had picked me up from middle school when I’d been twelve years old, only to learn I’d spent much of the day being picked on for the bright red nail polish I’d been wearing. When I’d said life would just be easier if I was normal like all the other boys my own age, he’d uttered the rare curse word and told me to stay in the car while he’d gone into the school and read the principal the riot act. When he’d come back out, he’d taken me shopping and had literally bought every shade of nail polish the drugstore had carried. When we’d gotten home, he’d painted his own nails bright pink and the very next day at school, he’d proudly walked with me to my locker, his pretty nails on full display. And when Adam McCarthy had dared laugh at us, my grandfather, the former cop, had whispered something to him that, to this day, I still didn’t know what it had been, but that had shut Adam up all the same.

And the bully hadn’t dared even look at me funny after that.

Son, life is messy, that’s why God invented Hoovers.

I smiled as my grandfather’s favorite line rang in my ears.

“Harrison,” I called just before he reached the door. He turned to look at me, his guard up.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” I asked.

He stiffened. “What?”

I wanted to laugh at how he’d gone instantly on the defensive. Yeah, what I was about to do wasn’t going to be easy by any stretch of the imagination, but he’d been wrong about one thing.

I had enough color to outshine even the darkest shade of black.

“You owe me flowers.”