Page 2 of Wooded Bliss (Mated to the Monster: Season 3)

BIRDIE

While wrapping up a bouquet order, I can’t help but smile. These flowers are gorgeous. Peonies are some of my favorite flowers and there is a riot of them in this bouquet. Whoever is getting these is lucky.

I hope they bring a smile to the face of the person who will be enjoying them. There’s no way I wouldn’t smile if I had these flowers greeting me for however long they last. But, then again, I’ve never been given flowers. At least, not since I opened my shop, Blooms Happen.

I’m okay with it because it’s like I live with nature around me all the time between the walls of my shop. Even better, the flowers surrounding me are the best parts of nature.

And no bugs.

Well, there might be the occasional ladybug and I’m sure there’s an aphid which has snuck into the place. But what I don’t know, and don’t see, won’t hurt me.

As I put the finished masterpiece to the side, all tied up with a pretty bow around the glass vase, my cheeks hurt with how big I’m smiling. It looks perfect. I don’t really want to see it leave but knowing someone will be enjoying it softens the blow.

The bell ringing out from my shop’s front door has me tearing my eyes away from the bouquet and toward whoever is gracing me with their presence. My grin grows even wider when I see Agnes. She’s walking slowly, but the joy coming from her the moment she looks around at the vibrant color and life in my shop is something I feel deep in my soul.

“Hi, Agnes,” my voice is bright.

She barely looks at me, her gaze moving back toward the flowers, but I don’t mind. “Hello, my dear,” she greets me. “It’s a good day to get some new flowers.”

I chuckle as I move away from my workspace and into the main part of my shop. I’m so glad I was able to design my shop to be exactly what I wanted it to be. Everything is open and I can work on bouquets while still keeping an eye on the main floor.

Everything in Blooms Happen is a moody green and the space is filled with natural light from the large front windows which I try to keep as clear as possible. There are a few hanging plants around and a lot of wood in all different tones. It brings so much texture to the space and gives a nice backdrop for the pops of color everywhere.

The whole place has a natural boho feel, which was exactly what I was going for. This shop makes it feel like I’m out in the woods, but a special kind where fairies and little creatures who want to follow me around like a princess live. It’s the kind of space I always fantasized about really existing.

Yes, I’ve given little homes to the fairies I hope come and find a home in my flower shop. There is more than one fairy garden in my shop. They range from mossy to bright and colorful. They’re quirky, fun, and I’ve sold more than one of them.

It’s usually a little girl who notices the fairy gardens, but that didn’t sit right with me which is why I also have a few gnome gardens filled with mushrooms to choose from as well. Little boys like whimsy just as much as anyone, even if they think they should be emulating the masculine energy in their lives. No one should be left out when it comes to joy and fantasy.

Whenever I sell one of those little magical gardens, it makes me giddy. Not only is that special little portal going to a new home, but it gives me an opportunity to make a new one. I might be a little obsessed with miniatures and creating the perfect little patch of whimsy.

I’ve put a lot of work into molding Blooms Happen into exactly what I envisioned. It makes me feel warm and cozy especially when people come in and react how Agnes does every time she visits me. Everyone who comes here should feel like they’re both at home and far away in a land they never imagined before.

“What flowers are speaking to you today?”

Agnes trails through the shop, her fingers reaching out to touch a few blooms until she comes to a stop in front of some ranunculuses on display. The blooms are in a few different colors which include purple, peach, pink, orange, and red. I love the colors and they’re one of my favorite flowers.

Yes, so are peonies. So are roses. So are sunflowers. Honestly, there aren’t many flowers I wouldn’t say are my favorite. Which is why Blooms Happen is my happy place.

“These are gorgeous,” Agnes gushes.

I can only giggle softly because she always chooses a bunch of ranunculuses. Sure, she’ll look at other flowers. She might even flirt with them, but she never chooses them.

“They are. With some eucalyptus they’ll make a gorgeous bouquet,” I offer knowing she prefers lamb ears over eucalyptus. “Or maybe baby’s breath.”

Agnes shoots me a glare that would scare someone if I didn’t know her so well. Or if she wasn’t in her seventies.

Her face scrunches up with obvious disgust. “Baby’s breath? Eucalyptus? It’s like you don’t know me at all,” she pouts.

Using my hand, I cover my mouth so she can’t see how hard I have to fight to stop myself from smiling. But the way the corner of her mouth twitches tells me everything I need to know.

“Maybe you want to change it up,” I tease her.

“No way,” she shivers, “I don’t want those weeds messing with the beauty of these flowers.”

I can’t help but giggle at how adamant she is. “A lot of people like those weeds,” I point out.

She huffs out a breath, but I know there’s no real heat behind it. We work together to get her the perfect mix of colors. I can’t help but watch her eyes light up as she looks at the gorgeous flowers she’ll be taking home with her.

Agnes has been a regular customer since I opened several years ago. Blooms Happen was always my dream. I wasn’t allowed to spend nearly as much time in the woods surrounding Whispering Pines as I wanted while I was growing up. My parents, who retired to a warmer climate last year, were always overly cautious when it came to the woods. To this day I’m still not sure why.

Even though I’ve heard the whispers around town about some bears who have made the forest their home, it’s not like I was going to go and seek them out or anything. But, I guess, if I were a mom then I wouldn’t be thrilled with the idea of a kid coming across a bear without any idea how to protect themselves; as if they’d even be able to.

I figured out when I was young that a flower shop would be perfect for me. Once I had the dream, I started saving. It took me a few years, but I’m here now. I figure, at only 27, I’m doing damn good.

About ten years ago there was a shift in Whispering Pines. Quite a number of businesses went under, and the population took a hit. I have no idea what happened, but it changed the fabric of the town, which never fully recovered. It’s how I got such a great deal on my space.

To say everyone was excited to welcome a new business to town is an understatement.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to design a bouquet for you with these,” I offer, knowing what Agnes’ answer is going to be.

Her hand goes to her chest as if I’ve just offered to murder someone. The look on her face can only be described as aghast. It’s comical, honestly.

“You know I enjoy doing it myself. It’s my form of meditation,” her tone is exasperated.

“I know, Agnes,” I groan, “but I had to offer.”

“You just make your gorgeous creations for those who need them.” She pats my hand in the way only an older woman can—full of patronization. “I’ll see you in a few days,” she promises.

There’s no doubt in my mind that Agnes will be back before I know it. The woman is as obsessed with flowers as I am. I’m not complaining and there’s something special about finding a kindred spirit in a septuagenarian.

When I drift toward the large front windows, I find myself staring out at my little slice of Main Street. I can’t help but smile because Blooms Happen isn’t the only new business finding a place here. It feels like we’re finally coming back from whatever set us back ten years ago.

I glance toward the coffee shop, one which has been in town for as long as I can remember and catch a glimpse of Wylie Bosch. There are four Bosch brothers, but not all of them come into Whispering Pines anymore.

Wylie, who is the third brother in terms of birth order, and Grady, the youngest, can be seen in town from time to time, but the two eldest brothers haven’t been seen in years. At least not by me. Not by anyone, if the gossip around town is anything to go by.

It’s a shame because I wouldn’t mind seeing Thatcher. He was two years ahead of me in school and I was totally enamored. To say he was my first crush, my only crush, would be an understatement.

Thatcher Bosch was the hottest guy I’ve ever seen. It’s a shame I haven’t seen him in ten years. Considering what he looked like at 19, I’m pretty sure I’d become a messy puddle if I were to see him now.

Wylie has changed over the years, which is obvious whenever I get a glimpse of him. I’m sure the same is true for Thatcher. I bet his arms are even bigger and stronger than they used to be. What if he grew a few inches taller? I’d really have to crane my neck to look at him.

Remembering his dark eyes, ones which seemed to have hidden depths, sends a shiver up my spine. I might have had a ginormous crush on him, but Thatcher never really saw me.

It’s not like I can blame him. No one really saw me back then.

Other than those who come in for flowers, the same is true now.

Honestly, it doesn’t bother me. I’ve always been a bit of a loner, and I have a few quirks. If I could have spent more time out in nature by myself, I would have. Since it wasn’t an option, I found solace with plants and in books instead of activities and people.

At least now, with Blooms Happen, I get more social interaction. It was what I was most nervous about before I opened, but it hasn’t been as bad as I made it out to be in my mind. I like interacting with everyone who comes in for flowers, but it’s mostly surface level stuff.

At the thought of something deeper, Thatcher’s brown eyes flash in my mind.

“No,” I murmur to myself, “he’d never really look at you that way.”

My shoulders slump because I’m sure I’m right. I’ve always been too quiet and a man like Thatcher would be attracted to someone with a little more confidence. Someone not afraid to take up space.

At least, I imagine so. Who would really know? Thatcher and the eldest Bosch brother, Ripp, haven’t been in Whispering Pines in so long.

My heart aches at the thought of Thatcher feeling lonely, but if I had the opportunity to live in the forest would I come back to town? Probably not. I’d have plenty to keep me busy just exploring.

I’m too shy to talk to Thatcher even if he was around. Hell, I barely talked to Wylie, and we had some classes together. I might have had a huge crush on Thatcher, but even I could see that none of the brothers were unattractive. Just the opposite.

I remember hearing a lot of the girls in school tittering about how hot they were. There was a considerable amount of woe around it since none of them seemed interested in anyone. They didn’t date or anything like that. If they hooked up with anyone, somehow, it was all kept hush-hush. I’m pretty sure it never happened because there’s no way some lucky girl would have kept it to herself.

A ding from my computer, letting me know I have a new message, has me turning away from the front window even though Wylie is long gone. While I check out the details for the new order, I can’t shake my thoughts about a certain brown-eyed guy who seemed to disappear.

Thatcher Bosch might be my dream man, but I’m sure he wouldn’t be into a shy, quiet, and flower obsessed chick like me.