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“I did.”

Betty Lou looked over the top of her signature retro red glasses. The style had never changed over the years, and Kelly had always wondered if she had a few boxes of the frames stashed somewhere. “So you’re gonna be helping with the Founders’ Day festival. I think it’s interesting having the two venues.”

Her stomach grumbled and the ache in her head was beginning to intensify again. She really needed some caffeine. “It’s going to be different, for sure, but maybe that will bring more people into town as well. People driving past the Prentices’ property see the activity and decide to call in. I think change is always good.”

“Hmm, we’ll see. So, what can I get you this morning? Today’s donut special is cherry maple glazed.”

“I’ll have a large latte with an extra shot today, and I’ll take one of the specials as well as a plain cinnamon donut.”

“Okay, you take a seat and I’ll get everything for you.”

“Great, thanks.” Kelly wandered over to the counter overlooking the kitchen. As usual, the diner was busy, but she spied one stool and grabbed it before anyone else.

She drummed her fingers on her handbag, eager to get her order and get to the shop. She wanted to transfer the myriad designs running through her head onto her tablet.

“In a hurry to go somewhere?”

Oh, shit, that voice—she recognized it, and he was the last person she wanted to see. Life really was messing with her recently.

Pasting a smile on her face, she swiveled to her left. “Morning, Tate, how are you?”

Yes, she could be polite and professional with the guy. If she just ignored the way her heart rate kicked up a notch and her palms grew a little sweaty. No way was her reaction anything to do with the man sitting next to her. It was because she was dehydrated and her blood sugars were low.

“I think I’m a lot better than you.” He tempered his words with a smile and a rush of warmth pooled in her lower belly. Yet another symptom of hunger, of course. But she wasn’t so hungry that she didn’t notice Tate wasn’t stuttering like he seemed to do whenever he came to the store to order his flowers.

Interesting.

“I’m fine. Just hungry.”

He picked up his mug of coffee, and her mouth watered as he took a slow slip. Oh, boy, did she need to get herself together. Drooling over Tate’s cup of coffee in front of the diner’s patrons wouldn’t help keep gossip about her to a minimum.

“I recommend a big plate of bacon and eggs—might help you feel a little better.”

Great, now she was getting advice from him. So not what she needed. “I’ll take that on advisement, but I’m happy with my coffee and donut order.” If Betty Lou would just hurry up and give it to her, she could leave and not have to talk to him.

Inwardly, she winced at how horrid she sounded. Tate wasn’t a bad guy. Her reaction to him seemed over the top, and considering they were going to be seeing more of each other, she should at least try to make an effort to be nice to the guy. Plus, he was providing her with business. Even if that business was supporting his Casanova reputation. Damn, those poor flowers being tossed aside instead of admired.

Why was she wasting so much time on what Tate did with the flowers he purchased? Who was to say other people weren’t using her arrangements for the same purpose she was condemning Tate for?

Yeah, she needed to stop being cynical about relationships. Just because hers didn’t work out the way she’d hoped didn’t mean everyone else’s was doomed. Macy and Charlotte were a prime example of love being true and pure. Kelly’s own parents had a great marriage until her father passed away.

She jumped when a takeaway coffee cup and white paper bag were pushed in front of her. Kelly looked up to find Betty Lou watching her intently, her eyebrows perfectly groomed arches above her glasses.

Kelly flashed a smile at the diner’s owner. “Thanks, Betty Lou. I’ll see you later, Tate.”

She marched out of the diner, feeling like every single eye was on her. Ahh, the joys of living in a small town where everyone knew her business. As much as that rankled her, and it did big-time, she wouldn’t live anywhere else. She loved Sweet Ridge, and she loved the life she’d carved out for herself.

She lifted the cup and closed her eyes as the coffee coated her tongue. People who didn’t like coffee needed to have their heads examined. Who couldn’t appreciate this fine bean?

The morning June sun beat down on her head. The weather was definitely getting warmer and soon long, lazy summer days would be upon them. Again, an image of her sitting on her back patio, glass of wine in hand, laughing with a mystery man flittered in her mind. She quickly closed off the memory before she could see the face of her companion. The chances of it being the man she’d just been talking to in the diner were pretty high.

Once and for all, she had to forget about this silly infatuation with Tate. Yes, he was good-looking. Yes, he seemed to have a good sense of humor. But he was younger than her. No way was she going for a younger man. There were plenty of women who did, but it just wasn’t in her wheelhouse. Now that she was in her mid-thirties she was looking for someone she had more in common with. Someone more mature. What did she have in common with Tate? Nothing. And so far she hadn’t seen any signs of the maturity in Tate she was seeking for her life partner. Was the observation fair? Probably not, but it was where she was in her life right now.

Switching her cup to her other hand, she juggled with the keys to unlock the shop. Her daily flower delivery should be arriving soon. That was the only downside to living in Sweet Ridge—the inability to go to the market herself and purchase the flowers fresh. But she’d contracted with a reliable agent and arranged for them to be delivered each day. So far, her trust in that person hadn’t been betrayed, and every day the flowers arriving at the shop were fragrant, in pristine condition, and ready to be arranged.

“Here, let me help you with that.” A big hand reached around her and inserted the key, unlocking the door. With a quick shove, the door was open, and she breathed deeply, inhaling the scent of her flowers.

God, she loved the aroma; it was almost as good as smelling freshly brewed coffee. Both ignited the flame inside of her.