Leaving Normal by Stef Holm (best ereader for graphic novels TXT) 📕

she were expecting him to ask him something else. "Of course, I can help you with that."

She moved to the cooler, waited for him to follow.

"Who are they for?" she asked, sliding the door open. Cold air spilled out of the refrigerated space.

He thought about who he had in mind—the sole reason for his visit to Hat and Garden. "A woman."

For a second he thought he saw a brief flash of envy flicker into her eyes. "The occasion?"

"There is none. I just think she's a special woman." Tony looked at the different sizes, shapes and colors of flowers. "Why don't you pick out the flowers that you like."

"All right." She slid the cooler door open. "Do you have any color in mind?"

"What's your favorite color?"

"Pink."

"Do that."

"We can do lots of things in pink." She began pulling stems and making a collection. "There's roses, tulips, carnations, gerbera daisies, freesia and hues."

"Those work."

"All of them?" she questioned, her hand filled with textures and the smell of flowers.

He nodded.

"Did you want them delivered?"

"No, I'm delivering them myself."

Once more, he recognized a hint of longing in her expression and he tried to make sense about why that pleased him.

"All right…it'll take me a moment to make this bouquet up. Can you wait or do you want to come back?"

"I can wait."

She went out the back door. Out to a shed, he assumed. The flower shop was a converted historic home, so he figured the shed was a garage. While he waited, he went through the rooms, then climbed the stairs to discover other rooms done in hues of purple, sage and white. Music played in the white room, a soft melody that he didn't recognize. He grew increasingly more appreciative of the effort she put into her business.

Most of the things Natalie sold were items he wouldn't normally buy. A lot of collectible knick-knacks. His mom had some dust-collector stuff in her living room, but she was more practical about her decorating and put energy into kitchen gadgets rather than hand-crocheted doilies and teddy bears.

Tony was on his way downstairs as Natalie came through the back door holding on to a big bouquet in a tall vase. He was immediately impressed by how the flowers were put together with greens and other delicate accents.

"Is this all right?" she asked, setting the vase on the counter. Her cheeks were flushed from being outside, or maybe not just from the cold. He could see that she hoped for his approval by the way light played into her green eyes when she looked at him.

"It's great. Thanks. I appreciate it."

"You're welcome." She rang up his order.

He put his wallet in his back pocket. "And my mom really liked what you made for her birthday."

"I'm happy to hear that." Her face looked radiant, pleased. "Do your parents live in Boise?"

"My parents are divorced. It's just my mom. She lives in Meridian. My dad's in Portland." Conversely, he asked, "And your parents?"

"My mother passed away. My dad lives in Boise. He's retired."

"My mom still works, but she enjoys it."

"Dad helps me with the flower deliveries, and while he grumbles about the van he has to drive, I think he likes coming in."

He noticed then that they spoke in polite undertones. Gone was the level of comfort and margin of familiarity they'd shared in his living room. He realized they were at her place of work, but he missed hearing the humor in her voice. He couldn't nail down why, exactly.

Only that he'd liked it when she was laughing at Ferris Bueller.

He moved to take the flowers and she stopped him.

"Wait—you'll need a box." She went into a closet underneath the stairs and came out with a box which she turned upside down. Using a box cutter she sliced slits in the bottom as if she were cutting up a pie. "Set this on the floor of your truck and stick the vase inside. It'll stay upright and the water won't spill."

"Good idea."

She simply smiled, and the curve to her mouth made her appear more youthful and very pretty. Through soft laughter, she said, "After so many years at this, I do come up with some good ideas every now and then."

He grinned at her frankness and gave her his best smile. The one that made women blush. He wasn't sure if the smile would get to her or not; it seemed she had a lot of reserve when she put her mind to it.

She blushed and turned away.

Inwardly, he was satisfied. Not in a way that was overconfident. He just took pleasure seeing that he could affect her—even in a small way.

Maybe it was a macho thing with him. Maybe he liked knowing that he could make her breathing jagged with little effort.

"You're all set," she said, her voice slightly edgy, as if she were trying to take command of it. "I hope your friend likes the flowers."

"I have no doubt she will."

'"I hope your friend likes the flowers.' That's what I said to him. It just came out and I hated how I felt when he replied he had no doubt she would. I don't want him buying flowers for another woman, not now. Not so soon. I mean, he's still married and going through a divorce. Oh, why do I even care?" Natalie groaned.

"Because you like him," Sarah said, dipping a corn chip into salsa. "And now that he's going to be available you need to act fast, because a man hike him will be taken out of circulation quickly."

"I don't want to take him out of circulation."

"Of course you do. I can see it on your face—he probably did, too."

Natalie raised her hands to her cheeks, feeling the burn of a blush.

Sarah said blandly, "Let's face it, if he's buying an expensive bouquet for a female friend already, he's moving on and you need to move in."

"I can't." Natalie pinched the bridge of her nose, then took a drink of her water and ate a