Chapter One

Chloe

Sunrise. My favorite time of day. Its golden light floods the vibrant fields of flowers as I stand on the back porch of my parents’ house overlooking the farm and sip my morning coffee. Even though this is a sight I’ve woken up to every day of my life, there are times the beauty doesn’t seem real. The blossoms come alive, the stems dancing in the light breeze. It’s the kind of sight with the power to convince a person to believe in magic.

Surrounded by acres and acres of farmland, it’s easy to hear the rumbling engines in the distance cruising down the gravel roads, the crew arriving to help deliver the first harvest of spring. Swallowing back the last of my coffee, I bring my mug inside so I can greet the crew and kick off the morning.

As I walk past the chicken coop, Mom steps out in her rubber boots and fleece jacket with her scoop for the feed in hand. “Morning, sweet pea. Did you sleep well last night?”

“I was a little restless, but nothing the flowers can’t heal.”

Sweeping her long, muted brown hair over her shoulder, she kisses my cheek on her way to the house. “Don’t forget you have another meeting with Jordan Gardiner and Celeste Middleton this afternoon.”

Cringing inwardly, I smile. “Thanks, Mom.”

Hopefully they’ll approve of the changes we need to make to their wedding flowers, otherwise we’ll lose the account. I can arrange something beautiful, but if it’s not what they want, there’s only so much I can do.

With the rising sun pouring over the flower fields, we gather the buckets of freshly-cut stems from the cooler and load up the delivery vehicles all lined up.

“You got Petals, Violet’s, and Hollow Tree today, Reid?”

He slides a Lockwood Blooms van door shut. “Yep.”

“Careful on those turns around Mt. Luna. Charlie knocked over half the blooms last time.” I murmur under my breath. “I don’t need Carla calling me again pissed because her flowers are late or damaged. We can’t afford to keep replacing flowers free of charge.”

Reid turns with his head canted and his eyes staring me down, as if to tell me I should know better. “I’ve got you covered, Loe.” He walks over and kisses my cheek.

I’m still getting used to his affection. Or rather, his affection in front of the rest of the team. I’ve known Reid for years, but we’ve only been dating for a month. Things are still fresh and work romances can be complicated. Especially ones involving the boss: me.

“You better.” I tap his chest with a smile as I back away toward my trusty old Chevy truck, Betty.

“I’d never dream of damaging your precious blooms.”

Pointing at him, I say, “Oh, I know. You’re aware of what my wrath looks like.”

He laughs as he straightens the bill of his lucky baseball cap, his dusty blond hair curling over the tops of his ears. “Exactly.”

After seeing off the rest of the delivery vehicles, I load up the last bucket of peonies in the bed of my truck and head into town.


Using my hip, I shut my truck door and wave hello to my last delivery of the morning. Alice stands on the curb at the entrance of Flower Patch with a bright smile on her face.

“Morning, Alice.”

The gray-haired woman’s hand lands over her heart as she peers into the bed of my truck. “Look at the size of those anemones and tulips. They are gorgeous, Chloe. Oh, and those hyacinths and daffodils.” She sighs with a dreamy stare, the skin crinkling at the corners of her faded green eyes. “I should never be surprised by your blooms, but every delivery steals my breath away.”

“These ones are pretty spectacular.” My chest puffs with pride. “It’s going to be a great season.”

Her gaze softens. “Is your father still out of commission?”

A melancholy twinge tweaks my chest. “For a little while longer, yeah.”

“How’s your mom handling everything?”

Hands on my hips, I dig for a smile. “Like the superwoman she is. Taking care of him and still managing the finances and scheduling of Lockwood’s.”

“Goodness. Robyn has always been resilient and tenacious. She’s a trooper, that one.”

“She is indeed.”

“You need a hand?”

I shake my head as I slip on some gardening gloves from the front pocket of my overalls. “No need. Just tell me where you want them.”

One by one, I haul the remaining buckets of flowers inside while Alice finishes setting up her racks and display cases. When I head out to retrieve the last bucket, someone leans against the back of beat-up Betty, twirling a pale pink tulip. I stop. It isn’t just any someone. My heartbeats and thoughts stumble as his presence sinks in.

Standing in tan slacks and a crisp blue button-up, he doesn’t look much different than the boy I grew up with. Except, somewhere in the last seven years, the boy grew into a man. The many freckles once marking his face with boyhood, distinguish the strong angles of his jawline and straight nose.

“I see nothing’s changed in this town. If you want to find the prettiest girl around, you look for the most beautiful flowers.”

Even after all this time, he still wreaks havoc on my stomach and heart. And not in the pitter-patter kind of way. 

“Kipling Harris.” While I try to keep the bite out of my tone, it slips. I’m older, more mature than when I last saw him, but the years did nothing to diminish the feud between our families and us.

“Chloe Lockwood.” He continues twirling the pastel tulip between his thumb and forefinger before offering the flower to me. “I’m not surprised you still outshine all the other Lockwood blooms.”

Shaking my head, I pinch my lips to hold back a snort. Smooth talker, as always, though I don’t know why he’s aiming it at me. “And I’m not surprised you’re still laying on the excessive charm.”

“It’s what I do.” Kip gives a crooked grin as he pushes off the truck. “You do look good, though.”

Plucking the tulip from his outstretched hand, I keep a couple feet between us, not trusting his proximity for multiple reasons: both physical and emotional. My feet shuffle on the pavement as I rest my hands on my hips. I hate the racing horses in my chest.

“It’s been a long time.”

“Yeah, it has.” Kip shoves a hand in his pocket and rakes the other through his windblown hair.

It’s crazy how the years spent apart don’t change my body’s reaction to him, how in a matter of seconds, my teenage feelings rush back. With as much force as I can muster, I shove them deep into the once locked chest. Kip Harris won’t fracture my composure this time. Or ever again.

“I was on my way to Aunt May’s for breakfast when I spotted the Chevy. I can’t believe you still drive this beat-up thing.”

I frown at his insult. Not everyone in Seaside Pointe has a rich daddy buying them fancy vehicles. And Betty has never wronged me. She’s as reliable as she is old. They don’t build them like they used to.

He clears his throat when I don’t reply. “So, how have you been?” he asks. “Your family doing well?”

“Yeah…Umm…” I scratch the top of my head beneath the messy bun, my eyes darting to the sidewalk. The last thing I want to get into with Kip Harris on the main street of Seaside is my dad’s health. “Things are busy.”

“Do you have the last bunch, hun?”

My head whips around to the floral shop. “Yes. I’m sorry, Alice.” I climb into the bed and slip the tulip Kip took into the lone white bucket. “Let me get those for you.”

Kip slides back a step. “Sorry, don’t let me keep you from your work. I’ve got someone waiting on me, anyway.”

Someone? His next conquest? Poor girl.

“Kip Harris. Is that you, dear?” Alice wanders closer.

His head knocks back as he lifts a hand. “Ms. Dewey, nice to see you.”

“My goodness.” She squeezes his biceps, an appreciative gleam brimming on her wrinkled face. “The last time I saw you you were quite a few inches shorter. You have grown into one handsome man.”

“I guess life in the south agreed with me. Probably all the good cooking. Good thing I grew up and not out.” He rubs his stomach. “I should get a move on. Ms. Dewey.” Kip tips his head toward Alice, a slight grin on his lips, before he looks up at me towering above from the back of the truck. The smile he bestowed on Alice is nothing like the full, face-altering, ear-to-ear grin he awards me. The early morning sun hits him in the eyes, and he cups a hand over his brows. “It was truly good running into you, Sunshine. I’ll see ya.”

My chest tightens at the use of his sardonic nickname. Even though I’m unsure of how I feel about us running into each other, I say, “You, too,” and brush a wayward lock from my eyes, a nonchalant gesture.

How am I supposed to handle Kip being in town? How long is he here for? Not wanting to seem eager for answers, all I finish with is, “See ya.”

He cuts across the street, ducking in front of a slow-passing car with a wave of thanks. It’s hard to grasp his return. He’s been gone for so long, and yet even with his matured features, he’s probably still the same Kip Harris. Heartbreaker. Tormentor. Nemesis. Only now, I bet he’s more practiced.

I return to the task at hand. I can’t be distracted by that man. Kip will probably be gone soon anyway. He never comes to Seaside, and if he does, I’ve never cared to hear about it, or he doesn’t stay for long.

After lugging the bucket to the edge of the bed, I tuck my gloves into the front pocket of my overalls. Alice takes the flowers, and I hop off the scuffed white tailgate before slamming it shut.

“I can’t wait to see the poppies and anemones.” She beams.

Dusting off my hands, I say, “In a week or two we’ll be harvesting them. And I’ll bring by our first batch of ranunculus in a few days if you’d like.”

“Oh, I can’t wait to see them. Those sherbet-toned ranunculus are always a hit.”

I hum an agreement. “They rival some of my favorites, but just you wait for the Iceland poppies. They are something else this year. I promise you won’t be disappointed.”

“I have no doubt. Lockwood Blooms never lets me down. Thank you, Chloe.”

“Take care, Alice. I’ll see you Wednesday or Thursday.”