Chapter Four
Kayson
“What delights did you bring, dear fellow?” I was hoping the flair from before had tired Aunt Viv out, but it seemed to give her a new spike of energy.
“I…” Looking back and forth at the cups in my hands, one my double espresso and the other a chamomile tea, because Aunt Viv and calming the hell down, venti style. “I forgot. I can go back. Give me a minute.” No way I would admit to her or myself that I really wanted to go back and see if that delicious new addition to our town was still nursing his sad hazelnut Americano.
Especially Aunt Viv. She might just fairy dance her way into the coffee shop to get a peek for herself.
“You forgot my...why are your cheeks red?” She paused with one eyebrow arched. “Well, well, maybe you did pick up a yummy little treat, after all. Did you get a phone number?”
“No. I mean, there wasn’t a yummy treat. I mean, I don’t know his—nobody. There was nobody.”
Her petite nose wrinkled, and her lip curled like something in the room smelled bad. It was probably my lies.
“Come now, Kayson. I know I taught you to lie better than that. Give up the details, or I will march down there right this minute and embarrass the heck out of you—on purpose. Because, let’s face it, I have to really work at being embarrassing.”
“I don’t know his name.” No point in denying the fact.
“Basic conversation, darling. Hello, my name is Kayson. What’s your name, hot pants?”
I choked on my first sip of caffeinated liquid. “Not in a million years would I ever call someone hot pants. No matter how much the name fit.”
She clapped after setting her tea down. This cup would go cold, too, before she indulged. I just knew it. “Nice butt. Okay, now we’re getting somewhere. Go on. I need juicy details.”
“He’s staying at the Mapleville Hotel. He dropped his hotel key. He was nervous, jittery. Cute as all get-out. No one that gorgeous could be single.”
“You are,” she remarked with a pull of her ear. She did that when trying to be coy.
“I am single.” I blew out a weighted breath. “I should’ve asked for his name.”
“Yes, you should’ve. But a little visit to the…” She never finished her sentence. In all fairness, she could’ve finished her sentence, but I didn’t hear anything past the antiquated bell ding as the door was opened and Mr. Tall, Americano, and Nervous walked in, looking around like he’d never seen fresh flowers.
Our workshop opened into the main store area so customers could see us at work, much like the mall pretzel stands where you can watch some guy roll and shape his creations. Aunt Viv thought it made us transparent and gave the customers a sense our job was more than gardening. It was art.
The guy from the coffee shop came in, eyes roaming around the shop like a kid in a toy store. Must be a city boy. Then again, I could tell that from his high-dollar trench coat.
“Good morning, young man. How can we help you?”
Aunt Viv’s voice pierced my fazed-out state and brought me back to reality. He was here. The one who smelled like sandalwood and cedar. The omega I’d seen at the coffee shop.
“I’m killing time, actually. This place is lovely. Are you the owner?” He spoke to Aunt Viv but looked at me. His eyes, like pools of warm caramel, begged for me to step in and become entranced.
“My Kayson is almost the owner. He will be whenever I decide to kick the bucket. But I’m not quite ready yet.” She reached out and put a hand on the guy’s arm. “You see, there’s still things to take care of and places to visit and men to bed. Isn’t that right?”
“Yes, ma’am.” The man tipped his head. “Lovers to take.”
Aunt Viv’s eyes darted back and forth between us while I still sat like an oaf on the stool at my workbench. “So, what’s your favorite flower...I’m sorry, I forgot to ask your name.”
He smiled at her, revealing dimples on either side of his chin. “My name is Reid, ma’am. And you? You must be Vivian?”
She put a hand to her chest, surprised. “How did you know?”
“The sign. Vivian’s Roses. I thought it must be your namesake.”
“I am. And this is my nephew, Kayson. Although he was just telling me you two met at our town’s little coffee house. Isn’t that right, Kayson.”
No tact, no couth. None. Aunt Viv was a force to be reckoned with.
“And weren’t you just telling me that it’s time for your massage?”
She didn’t miss a beat. “I actually am late, now. Thanks to you. Reid, don’t let him talk you into buying a thing. Whatever you want is on me. Looks like you could use a pick-me-up.” My aunt whispered the last sentence to Reid, but I heard it all the same.
“Thank you. Have a great massage.”
“Oh, I will. Greta has the hands of the gods.”
Silence hung between us as Aunt Viv grabbed her gaudy bag and, with a flip of her hair, scooted out the door.
“Well, what’s your pleasure? Aunt Viv doesn’t take no for an answer, and neither do I.” I could’ve sworn I saw him shiver.
“What? Oh, flowers. Right. Um...I don’t have a favorite.”
I cocked my head sideways, studying this omega. He was sure of himself. I wanted to figure him out.
“Then, let’s find you one. Everyone should have a favorite.”