I follow her lead, and within seconds we're in the flower shop. Her friends are gaping at us like they can't believe what they're seeing. I'm as shocked by the PDA as they are. Not that it's much, but every touch from her is like a current of electricity through my body.
There are flowers covering every shelf in what I assume is the storage area. How can one wedding require all of this? "Okay," I let out a breath. "Where do you want me to start?"
"Look at him already stepping up to the plate." Kate grins. "You're going to fit in perfectly here."
"It's not like he's going to start working here permanently." Caroline shakes her head. "This is probably a onetime thing."
She's right about that. I won't always be able to lend a helping hand, but if I have the time, I will. "Should we get started?"
Caroline lets go of my hand and points to several white flowers sitting on a shelf. "All of those need to be loaded." Before I grab the first two planters, she puts a hand on my arm. "But you'll need the umbrella. They can't get wet."
"Sure thing." I grab the plants and head toward the door. I set them down beside the door and open the umbrella before picking them back up. Once they are loaded in the van, I head back inside. "You know what y'all need?"
They look at me with confusion. Eyes squinting and noses scrunched up. "What?" Kate finally asks.
"Those umbrella hat things. My dad would use them when it would rain on a job. They aren't cute, but they get the job done."
"That's genius," Kate claps. "I'll look for some once we get these set up at the venue."
We take turns taking the flowers to the van before filling up the back of my car. My mom has a pretty extensive flower bed and garden, and I don't think I've ever seen this many flowers going to one place.
With both vehicles loaded, we look at our handy work. The rain has died down. It's still there, just not as hard. The ladies head toward the van, and I go to my car prepared to follow them.
Before I even open the door, Kate gasps. "Aren't you going to ride with Carlos?"
Sheer fear is all over Caroline's face. "Oh, um, yeah." She shrugs and heads toward me. "It's habit getting in the van."
"A habit you should break," Sam smiles.
Rushing around the front of the car, I do my best to beat Caroline to the door. She's steps away when I swing it open. She offers me a shy smile as she slides into the car. I hate that they keep putting her on the spot, but it's something we'll have to get used to if we're going to keep this up.
"I'll follow you there." I wave to her friends and get in the car. Once the door is shut, I turn to Caroline. "Are you okay?"
“Yeah.” She stares out the window as I pull out behind the van. “This is just going to be a lot harder than I thought it would.”
“Why’s that?” Whatever comes next is what is going to make or break the whole arrangement.
“I feel bad lying to my friends and family. I mean whatever this is between us isn’t real.” I wish I could see her reaction, but her friend drives fast and I need to keep my eyes on the road in the rain. It’s probably why she’s being so candid.
“It’s not exactly fake, either.” I adjust the wipers to go across the windshield faster. “Even if it’s not romantic between us, it’s a friendship. And that still counts as a relationship.”
“How can you even call this a friendship? Up until two days ago, the most you knew was my drink order.”
Ouch. Way to throw a punch to the gut. “That’s mostly true. I knew about you, I’ve admired you from a distance, but I couldn’t exactly talk to you with your friends around. Besides, it’s a good thing to know what your regular customers like to drink. I’d be a shitty bartender if I didn’t.”
She snort laughs. “Funnily enough, my friends have been trying to get me to approach you for months.”
Now, that’s better. That has to mean somewhere under her bravado, she feels some sort of attraction to me. “Why didn’t you?”
“For all the reasons I’ve told you. My son is my focus.”
“You know you’re allowed to have a life outside of being a mom, right?”
“Gah, now you sound like my mom.”
Well, that wasn’t the comparison I was hoping for. Nobody wants to be compared to someone’s mother. Hell, I don’t want to be compared to my own mom. Not that she’s bad. It’s just weird.
“She sounds like a smart woman.”