My Ex-Boyfriend’s Brothers: Chapter 11
I studied the arrangement from close up and then backed away. It was nice but there was something missing. It would’ve been so much easier if Christina or Brad had been there to give their opinions, but neither of them wanted to be bogged down with the “small” decisions. As if florals were small decisions.
“What if you added another peony? It’s beautiful but it’s not perfect.” I glanced over at Jackson and chewed on my lip. I felt bad for holding him up with my pickiness. “I’m sorry. I promise this won’t be that much longer.”
Steven, the florist, sighed when the bell rang from the front counter. He looked at his watch and winced. “I’m so sorry, Maggie. I have a standing appointment with a client who insists on coming in and helping me arrange her flowers every week. Why don’t you two walk the trail through the field? Take the bouquet. If you see something, clip it for me. I’ll be back with you as soon as possible.”
“Is that okay?”
Jackson raised his eyebrows. “Is it okay with me? Come on, Bubbles. Walk me through a field and let me tell you all the things I would wait through to be with you.”
Steven clutched his imaginary pearls. “Oh, my god. If I found a man who said that to me, he’d be tied up in my basement right now. Wow.”
I grabbed Jackson’s arm and the bouquet. “And we’re going.”
The field that Steven had mentioned was a maze of flowers growing behind his shop. There was a barn in the distance and a beautifully maintained trail that weaved through the different flowers. It was my personal heaven, despite the fact that not all of the flowers were blooming.
“Well?” Jackson took my hand like we’d been holding hands for a decade and led me down the trail.
“Well, what?”
“Do you want to tie me up in your basement?” He saw my look of shock and laughed. “Yeah, you seem more like the type to be tied up.”
I squeezed his hand, unwilling to say anything about being tied up. Instead, I pointed to the peonies up ahead. “What do you think?”
He didn’t take his eyes off of me. “I think you got the wrong brother if you want help with the pretty stuff.”
I bit my lip and turned to face him completely. “I don’t know. I think you’re kinda pretty.”
His smile sent a million butterflies fluttering around my stomach as he wrapped his arms around me. “You think I’m pretty?”
I nodded. “I do. And I think I have just the right brother here to help me. After all, you brought me on a motorcycle. You could pick the wrong flower and I’d still forgive you because of the bike.”
“I’m going to tell my family you said that. That I can get shit wrong because I have a motorcycle.” He pulled the clippers Steven gave us out of his pocket after letting me go and walked over to clip a peony for me. He was slightly heavy handed when he stuck the flower into the bouquet but he got the flower in and nodded. “I like it.”
“It’s perfect.” I looked at the bouquet from every angle and bounced on the balls of my feet. “You should show your family this. You even picked a flower that was slightly darker than the rest and it’s just the depth we needed.”
“My family doesn’t want to see that or anything else I do.” He threw the comment out so cavalier that I could tell he just felt it was a fact, a fact that he’d accepted.
“That makes me sad.” I let the flowers hang down as I stared up at him. “I think I could poop and tell my mom about it and she’d be thrilled to cheer me on. That’s how every parent should be.”
Grunting, Jackson walked deeper down the trail. “Your mom always sounded like an angel. I’m sure it helps that you’re great.”
“You’re great, too.” I grabbed his hand and made him stop. “You’re great, Jackson. Sorry for getting serious and weird, but I don’t like the idea that your family isn’t wholly supportive of you.”
“Bubbles, I wasn’t always worthy of their support.” He pushed my hair behind my ears. “I can’t blame them for having a hard time accepting that I’m not the same kid I was at eighteen.”
“I can.” I frowned. “People grow and change. I used to think I loved Brad. If people still held me to that, I’d trash the planet.”
He leaned down and kissed me. He slid his hands into my hair and deepened the kiss, stroking his tongue over mine before slowly pulling away. “Are you trying to be my little soldier? You going to fight for me?”
I shrugged. “If I have to. You deserve someone in your corner.”
He groaned. “Why am I so turned on by that?”
Steven’s voice from the start of the trail surprised me. “Yoo-hoo! I’ll be waiting for you two inside. Take your time!”
I whacked the side of my head with the flowers. “I forgot I was even doing something here. That’s why I have to stay away from you while I’m planning this wedding.”
With a pat on my ass, Jackson pushed me back towards the shop. “Lucky for you, I’m more than willing to wait. What’s two more weeks when I’ve been waiting for my chance for six years?”
I blew out a soft breath and pressed myself into his chest. “You can’t say things like that.”
“I do what I want. Now go. Show the flower guy that I’m better than him at his job.” He grinned. “The faster you finish with him, the longer ride I can give you before your next job.”
I wagged my eyebrows. “If only I didn’t have work and you meant that in more ways than one.”
He growled. “You’re a pain in the ass.”
I had to admit that I rushed through the final walk through with Steven. I showed him the changes, crediting Jackson, and finalized everything as fast as possible so I could spend more time on the back of Jackson’s bike. Steven’s wink told me that he definitely understood.
I held onto Jackson tighter than necessary on the ride back to the lodge and fought with myself over my desires and commitments. I wanted to keep riding with him, away from the wedding. I had too many responsibilities to do that, though. The thought of not seeing Luke or Ryan again didn’t feel all that nice, either. Needless to say, by the time Jackson steered the bike towards the front doors of the lodge, I was in a weird mood.
I was so lost in my own head that I didn’t notice how Jackson had stiffened until he stopped the bike and patted my thigh. I was opening my mouth to ask him what was wrong when I heard the last person I wanted to hear.
“What the fuck are you doing with him?”