
Also by Annalise Whelan

O'Hanrahan Legacy

Romance Me with Flowers

Peacekeepers

Sunstar: Amina's Story

Fire Healer: Mara's Story

Glow Spark: Gem's Story

Standalone

The Lost Princess of Keros
Romance Me

with Flowers

--------

Annalise Whelan

Copyright (C) 2019 Annalise Whelan

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means electronic or mechanical including photocopying recording or by any information storage and retrieval system without permission in writing from the publisher. All characters are fictitious and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is purely coincidental. 

# Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

|  |

---|---|---

# Chapter 1

Brennan

The silence penetrated Brennan's consciousness, jerking his attention from the storm clouds brewing outside the window to the ongoing business meeting.

"Do you agree?" His father's question hung on the empty air, leaving the impression it wasn't the first time he'd asked.

Fifteen pairs of eyes lined around the table focused on Brennan. He rubbed his chin and tried to figure out what he agreed with.

The glower on his father's face spoke his frustration, but he remained professional in front of the shareholders. "The new marketing campaign, do you agree with the slogan?"

"It sounds great." He hoped. He'd missed it, but it couldn't be too terrible, could it?

Brennan glanced at Declan sitting on his right.

His brother gave him a slight shake of his head and leaned over to whisper, "where's your head, man?"

Brennan twirled the pen in his hand and pretended to make notes as the meeting dragged on another thirty minutes. His knee bounced under the table. He needed to focus on this new marketing campaign. With the economy changing and client needs shifting, the company's continued success required they stay in touch and stay competitive.

The members of the marketing team and the shareholders volleyed ideas and numbers. Brennan glanced up to find his father eyeing him with a serious expression. He fought the urge to slink down in his chair under his father's gaze as if he were twelve.

When the meeting ended, Brennan made a break for the door and escaped his father's attention for the moment. If Patrick O'Hanrahan wanted to speak to him, he could meet Brennan in his office.

The clock read a quarter to five. Brennan would be free soon. He stood in front of his office windows, looking over the bustling city. The harbor view never failed to quiet his nerves. He enjoyed watching people on the sidewalks and cars creeping up and down the narrow, historic lanes of Olde Towne.

A knock announced his father's arrival. Brennan kept his hands in his pockets and his gaze on the view.

"Son, we need to make a change."

He turned and watched his father, the great Patrick O'Hanrahan, settle into the comfortable loveseat against the wall.

"I was distracted, Dad, no big deal. I've got all the information to review later."

"You have a bigger issue. It's been coming on for months, and you've got to snap out of it. I need you to care about the company if you're to take over one day."

Brennan's lips twitched. "You're immortal."

Patrick scoffed. Brennan looked at him, taking the time to really see his father. His hair had turned white and thinned across the top. Deep lines creased his face. When he met Brennan's eyes, his were clear blue but watery.

"Is something wrong? Is there something you're not telling me?"

Patrick waved his hand in denial. "No, but I'm an old man. I want you and Declan to continue our family legacy, to continue the company, but only if you want it. I need to know if you want out, so I can find a replacement who will care."

"I care."

"You don't act like it. You don't pay attention in the meetings. Frankly, you look bored."

Brennan didn't react except to face the view. He was bored, but he didn't know why or how to fix it.

"Are you dating anyone?"

"What kind of question is that?" Brennan's surprise had him facing his father.

"You need a change in your life. It's been an easy cruise for years. You need a challenge."

"And dating is your solution? I date. I have a date tonight, in fact."

"With another of your plastic models or a real girl?"

Brennan frowned. He looked at the clock. "I've got to go. I promised Shannon I'd spend some time with Cody, and I've got dinner plans."

His father sighed. A deep, heavy from the chest, sigh.

It stilled Brennan. "You're honestly worried, aren't you? Listen, I'm proud of our company, and I'll do everything I can to take it into the next generation. I got distracted in one meeting. It's no big deal." He held up the file with all the latest marketing trends. "I'll do my homework."

"I want you to drive the delivery van on Mondays."

Brennan's head reared back. "What?"

"You need to get back to your roots and appreciate what this company means to our employees. You need to remember what everyday life at work and earning a paycheck means."

"You can't be serious."

"I am. For three months, you will drive the downtown route. You will meet with Marketing on Wednesday and Friday and be personally involved with the rebranding. This is your future, Brennan." His eyes glittered. "If you could date a real girl that would be a bonus, but I won't push into your private life."

"Thanks," Brennan said dryly.

"I'm serious, son. If you can't snap out of this, I'll bring in someone else to train as CEO."

"What about Declan? He dabbles in this or that. I don't hear you coming down hard on him."

"Declan has his niche. Business isn't it. You have the disposition to be a successful CEO."

"I'm not saying he should be CEO. Why not have Declan in Marketing every week?"

"He is involved."

Brennan felt his eyes widen with surprise.

His father glowered. "This is what I mean, son. Declan has been involved with the rebranding for weeks, and you haven't got a clue. He's supervising the project."

Maybe Patrick O'Hanrahan had a point.

The heavens opened, pouring rain as Brennan drove his car from the parking garage. He called his sister. "Hey, it's raining buckets. Can I reschedule with Cody?"

"Sure," Shannon said, her voice distant and tinny. He could hear his niece Gretchen wailing in the background. "I've got a teething baby in one ear and you on a bad connection in the other. Call you later?"

"Ok, later." He clicked off the connection and glared at the rain slicking over the windshield. "It's been a lousy day."

He pulled up to his waterfront building, handed his keys to the valet, and dashed inside.

Maybe his date would cancel, so he could wallow in his misery. Driving a delivery van of all things. As if he were sixteen and working his way up all over again.

He grumbled as he stormed through the building's lobby. A girl walked in front of him carrying a flower arrangement so big it covered her entire top half. He jerked to a stop to avoid a collision.

She probably hadn't seen him, so he swallowed an irritated response. "Excuse me." He paused to let her pass, creating a puddle of water from his dripping jacket. Stepping forward, his wet shoes met the slick marble tile. His legs flew out from under him. His arms spun in the air desperate to grip something, anything.

A squeal and a crash met his ears as he landed flat on his back in the middle of the lobby. Brennan turned his head where he lay and saw the girl buried under a clump of flowers. Water from the vase flowed toward him.

A porter's face appeared in his vision. "Sir, are you ok?"

"I'm fine. Is the flower girl ok?" He sat up, feeling disoriented a second.

Standing, he moved slow to make sure his feet stayed firmly underneath him. He peered down at the girl, still lying on the floor and blinking in shock.

"I'm sorry, miss. Are you all right?" Brennan held out a hand to help her.

She looked up, and the breath caught in his chest. Her eyes were the color of the sea, green and blue mixed with flecks of gray, and framed by the longest, blackest lashes. Taking a breath, he smiled his most charming smile. Her expression didn't change, and she didn't move to take his hand.

His smile dimmed. "Are you hurt?"

"I don't think so." Her brow crinkled as she frowned. She focused on his hand and slipped her fingers into his palm.

When he righted her, he couldn't help but admire her adorable face with a pert little nose and those big, hazel eyes. Her cheeks flushed pink at his appraisal, and she ran her hands over her blond ponytail.

The porter hopped around them. The apartment manager and security team approached.

"I made a mess of things here," Brennan said to the manager.

"I'll have this cleaned up, sir." He looked over the pile of flowers and puddles before leaving.

"Let me pay for the flowers," Brennan said to the girl. "Were they for the lobby?"

"Yes, but it's my fault. I wasn't looking where I was going." Her eyes shifted from his face to the floor. "You shouldn't pay for them."

He pulled his phone from his pocket. "I insist. Where do you work? I'll have it fixed right away." When she didn't speak, he glanced at her.

"R-really, sir," she said. "That isn't necessary."

He frowned. "It is."

She turned on her heel and rushed out the building doors before he could react. Had he scared her? Confusion and remorse wove through him. He'd ask the manager where the flowers came from and make it right.

The manager returned to mop up the water and straighten the flowers. "Mr. Brennan, the flowers only need to be picked up and rearranged."

"Thank you. I'm sorry I made work for you."

He hurried to clean himself up before his date. Samantha hadn't emailed or texted to cancel. He wouldn't be the best company, but if she wanted to go out, he'd keep his date. Maybe dinner and dancing would ease his foul mood.

Swinging his car to the curb outside Samantha's apartment, he spied her waiting through the glass entryway. She dashed outside and slipped into the car.

Leaning forward, she gave him a sexy glance and a swift kiss.

He smiled. "You look beautiful. I got reservations at the Sea Glass."

She pressed a hand to his knee, ran it up to his thigh. "Perfect."

He kept the smile on his face, but her aggressive move irritated him. They'd been out several times over the last few months, whenever she came to town, and each date she'd gotten more physical and demanding. She wanted to move forward, but he wasn't feeling it.

The maitre de led them to a table overlooking the water. Samantha slid into the booth beside him instead of sitting across the way, and Brennan bit down on a groan.

"Did you enjoy Paris?" he asked.

Her expression melted into a dreamy smile. "I had a lovely time. I enjoy the shops in Paris more than anywhere. But I felt lonely without you. Next time, you must come with me."

"Maybe. We're busy with rebranding the company, and it's not a good time for me to travel." He looked at Samantha and wondered why he couldn't relax and enjoy her. He sat next to a gorgeous woman with expertly made-up eyes that glittered bright blue and a sexy, pouty mouth. He had enjoyed kissing her and thought they may date a while, but his interest had waned.

His interest always waned after a few dates. He thought of his father describing his type as "plastic models".

She moved her hand below the table. He captured it and interlaced their fingers. Her mouth pouted.

"Do you have any work scheduled?" he asked.

She brightened. "I've got a runway show in London in two weeks."

"Sounds like a career boost."

"It will be. Several up-and-coming designers will be there."

"Perhaps you'll catch their eye and be swept off to model stardom."

She laughed, shaking her dark hair across her shoulders. "I can hope."

At that moment, he saw what had first attracted him. "It'll happen. I have no doubt." He leaned forward and brushed his lips over hers.

She drew back and playfully slapped his shoulder. "You'll mess up my lipstick."

And it disappeared. He swallowed a groan and picked up his menu. "We should order."

"I can't eat tonight. I gained a pound last week. With the show coming up, I have to watch my figure, so my nutritionist put me on a strict eating plan."

He scoffed. "Samantha, you're not serious. Why did you agree to dinner?"

Hurt appeared in her eyes, making him feel like a heel. "I wanted to see you."

"We can go." He shifted to look over his shoulder for the waiter. "The rain stopped. We can walk along the waterfront."

"Not in these heels. And the humidity will ruin my hair."

He rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I'll take you home."

"Brennan." Her lips pressed into a pout.

Why had he found that attractive? She looked like a spoiled teenager.

"Let's go." His voice sounded hard, even to his ears, and surprise sparked in her expression.

The silent ride to her apartment building gave Brennan time to plan his words. Pulling up in front, he put the car in park and turned to her.

"You're a beautiful girl. I'm certain you will become a star in the industry, and an amazing man will sweep you off your feet. But we're not right for each other."

"I understand." She pressed a kiss to his lips. "Goodbye, Brennan."

She slipped from the car and sashayed toward the entrance. He watched her walk and wondered when he'd lost his mind.

|  |

---|---|---

# Chapter 2

Freesia

The wind picked up and gusted across the beach. Freesia pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders as she scanned the shore for the perfect piece of driftwood. The online orders were kicking off, and she wanted each creation to be unique. Her most recent customer requested a mermaid under-the-sea theme, and she pictured strings of pearls and turquoise and mother-of-pearl shells. Her next project would be stunning.

Thankfully, Rosemary didn't know about the fiasco in the ritzy apartment building a few days ago. She'd trusted Freesia with that special delivery even though her klutzy ways were infamous. It had been one of Freesia's unique arrangements, and she'd begged Rosemary to let her deliver it. She had wanted to see it in all its glory, set up and ready to be admired. It had become a heap, a disaster, spilled all over the floor.

Disappointment had rushed over her and keened in her heart. Not to mention the acute mortification she'd felt when the gorgeous man had been kind to her. She'd blocked his path, knocked him down, splashed water all over him, and he'd been nice about it. Like a moron, she'd fled instead of thanking him or being nice in return. Panic had flared in her chest when his warm brown eyes settled on her face. He'd stared at her as if he couldn't believe what abuse he'd endured at her ridiculous, klutz hands.

Oh well. Freesia determined to put the entire scene out of her mind. He hadn't called the shop, so she could let it go and stop worrying Rosemary would know.

A piece of driftwood with a long, slender shape caught her eye, making her squeal with delight. It had twisty branches rising from the center. Perfect. She hauled it to her crossover.

She pulled up to the back door of the shop to unload her treasures, and Rosemary burst outside.

"There you are!"

Freesia frowned. "You knew I went scavenging."

"I've been swamped, and Ginger had a final this afternoon. We have a big order for the funeral home."

Freesia studied her sister. "A short-notice funeral?"

"They want several pieces by Thursday, as big as life."

"That's a strange day for a funeral."

"The family comes in on Friday, so they want everything settled. Understandable, and we need the business, but it'll require every hand we've got."

Freesia followed Rosemary into the front room of the floral shop. She took a breath as she always did. The heady scent of flowers never failed to charm her.

Her gaze fell on the front window. "Oh no, I forgot I have to finish the spring display."

"Well, hurry up. I'll get the arrangements started." Rosemary huffed into the cooler.

Freesia pulled the ladder into position and stretched up to attach a garland over the top of the window. She couldn't quite reach the outside edge closest to the door.

Rosemary brought a tall stand in from the storage room. "You aren't done yet?"

"Almost." Freesia scurried down the ladder, repositioned it by the door, and climbed to the top.

"Be careful," Rosemary said, her voice softening. "Let me know if you need help."

"I've got it."

The bells on the door jingled as it swung open and knocked against the ladder. She lost her grip. A squeal escaped as she toppled off the top rung. Her body hit something solid, and an "oof" sounded in her ear.

She opened her eyes to find startled brown ones looking back at her. Strong arms held her against a broad chest. Her body stiffened with shock.

"Are you all right?"

Freesia couldn't believe it. The man from the ritzy apartment building held her in his arms, except he wore a hat with a local delivery company's logo emblazoned across it. No way he worked as a delivery man.

Rosemary rushed to their sides. "Freesia, good grief! You nearly gave me a heart attack." She focused on the man. "Thank you for catching her."

He smiled, and Freesia's heart stuttered. "Since I knocked her off the ladder, I should be apologizing."

Freesia couldn't tear her gaze from the man's mouth. He had perfect, straight white teeth. His smile could melt the polar ice caps.

"Are you ok?" Rosemary asked her.

"Yeah, I think so." Freesia managed to look up to his eyes. Their warmth caused her stomach to flutter, and she dropped her gaze as fast as she could. "You can put me down, sir."

"Oh." He settled her on her feet but kept a steadying hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry, again. I seem to be making this a habit." He held out his hand for her to shake. "I'm Brennan O'Hanrahan."

She couldn't look at him, but she slipped her hand into his and tried to give him a decent handshake. "Freesia Bellamy. This is my sister, Rosemary."

"Have you met before?"

Freesia glanced up to see Rosemary studying Brennan.

"We bumped into each other in my building's lobby." His smile widened as he looked into Freesia's eyes. "I'm happy to make your acquaintance."

Who talks like that? Freesia swallowed and managed a nod.

He picked up a box and scanned it with a hand-held device clipped to his belt. "I hope whatever I dropped didn't break."

"Probably a bunch of foam I ordered." Rosemary signed the scanner and glanced back and forth between her and Brennan. "We've got work to do, Freesia. Thank you, again, for catching her."

He touched the brim of his cap. "No problem, ladies." He smiled at Freesia, and she found herself smiling back. "Maybe I'll see you again, soon."

When he left, Rosemary shot her a suspicious glare. "What did he mean he bumped into you in the lobby?"

She focused on finishing the window arrangement. "We saw each other when I delivered the arrangement."

"He likes you."

Freesia spurted a laugh. "He's rich and gorgeous. He doesn't like me."

"He couldn't take his eyes off of you." Rosemary swatted her arm. "If he's so rich, why's he making deliveries?"

"I don't know, but he lives and acts like a rich man. He can fix things with a phone call as if it's a magic wand."

Rosemary grinned. "If he comes back, don't discourage him. I know you're shy but try to be nice and show him the Freesia I love."

Her sister could be sweet. Freesia gave her a hug. "He's way out of my league. Let's get to work."

Brennan

He didn't know how to get the girl's attention, and that was a first. He sat in Shannon's living room tossing a ball above his head and catching it.

She sat on the floor playing with her six-month-old daughter and laughed over his predicament. "I didn't think it possible. You can't get her to look you in the eye?"

"She's shy. I can tell she's got a lot going on in her head, but I can't draw her out. I've been to the shop three weeks in a row with deliveries." He gave his sister his best pleading face. "Help me. What should I do?"

"Are you sure she's worth the effort? If she's shy and you get her to respond, you better be serious, or she'll be hurt."

He hadn't considered that angle, and he paused with the ball in his hands. "I don't want to hurt her. She's an adorable mystery and a challenge."

"Dad would be thrilled. He's wanted you to date a regular woman, fall in love, and have a family for ages."

"How do I get her attention?" Embarrassment crept over him. "I've tried my best smiles. I've complimented her. I've lingered around the shop looking at their displays."

"I hear a lot of 'I's."

He watched his sister turn the pages of a board book in Gretchen's chubby hands. She wore her thinking face, and he waited.

"Can you tell what she might be interested in by looking at the shop? Is there something specific about her that intrigues you?"

"She's an artist. You should see the driftwood art she creates. Her flower arrangements are unique. I've never seen anything like her creations. She mixes colors and flowers in a crazy way that shouldn't work, but it does."

"You do admire her."

"She intrigues me. She's humble. I've never seen her in a lot of makeup or fancy clothes, but she has class and understated style. She doesn't brag about her art. I know the work is hers because her sister told me."

"You've got it bad, brother."

He groaned. "I do."

"You need to show an interest in her work and ask her questions about it. You make her nervous. If you come at her romantically, she'll bolt. Let her get to know you. When she's comfortable with you, she'll open up."

"You're good." He tossed a throw pillow at her head.

"I may be a mom, but I'm a mom with a psychology degree. Don't forget."

He chuckled. "I should back off on the flirting, huh?"

"Definitely no flirting. Sincerity is what you need. You're accustomed to flashing smiles and money and the models come running."

"She sees me as a delivery guy."

"She saw your building, so she knows you're wealthy. Have you explained why you're making deliveries? Does she know who you are?"

"I haven't had a conversation with the woman. Have you been listening?"

"Start by giving of yourself. Tell her about you, even if she doesn't ask. Then ask about her work and the florist stuff."

Cody came rushing in the front door followed by his dad.

"Hey, Uncle Brennan. Want to practice some ball?"

"That's why I'm here."

An uncomfortable tension filled the room as Shannon looked at her husband Lucas. They'd been separated for three months, and Brennan didn't know why. No one in the family knew why, but he'd bet it was all Lucas' fault. It made him sad. They'd been perfect, college sweethearts, the couple everyone knew would be in love forever. It tore at Brennan's gut to see the pain in Shannon's face.

Gretchen held her arms toward her daddy, and Lucas' expression softened as he lifted and cuddled her. What could possibly have gone wrong?

He excused himself to play some ball with his nephew.

The next Monday he had a delivery to the floral shop, he tried to envision what to say to Freesia. How would he explain he was Brennan O'Hanrahan the billionaire tycoon without coming off like an arrogant rich jerk? He could imagine the conversation if he blurted out "hey babe, don't you know who I am? I'm rich, and you ought to be grateful I'm talking to you." No way. He didn't think of his family's company that way, and he didn't look down on small business owners with a talent like hers. Sincerity.

Nerves gripped his stomach as he stepped to the shop's door with a few boxes in his arms. Before he could juggle the packages to open the door, Freesia opened it for him and gave him a small, welcoming smile. His heart soared, and a grin flashed across his face.

Her smile tightened, and her eyes dropped to the floor.

No, he wouldn't lose her this time. "Good afternoon," he said, stepping past her.

"Hello." She gestured to the side of the room. "You can put them down there."

"Thanks. Hey, um, I wanted to explain to you why I'm doing this."

A confused look creased her brow.

"I mean the delivery stuff."

"Oh." A bit of curiosity showed in the lift of her brows.

Maybe she'd been wondering about him? "It's my family company." He put the boxes down. "My ancestors immigrated from Ireland and fought to build a successful business. It's important to my family, our legacy. It's been a success for generations, we're wealthy, but it's still a family business."

"That's a lot of information, Mr. O'Hanrahan." Her big eyes looked up at him with confusion.

"I wanted to explain why I'm doing this. Not that it's beneath me, but I wanted you to understand. Every one of us starts at the bottom like any other employee, and my father is teaching me a lesson. For three months, I'm driving the Olde Towne route to reconnect with my roots." He gave her a sheepish grin.

Her mouth quivered with humor, and he thought for a second she might relax enough to laugh. "Did you get too big for your britches?"

He chuckled. "I got bored."

Surprise flared in her eyes. "How could you get bored with all that money?"

"I got bored with the business, the routine. As I said, it's a family company, and we take the legacy and work ethic seriously. I'm expected to work for my living. I'm not allowed to ride the wave of success. My father doesn't want me to take the company for granted, and I respect his viewpoint. I agree with it. So, here I am."

She looked like she didn't know what to make of him. "I think that's too good to be real."

He flashed his smile. A flirtatious response formed in his mouth, but he held it back with a cough. He'd love to show her how real he was. The temperature of the room spiked as he gazed into her sea-colored eyes.

Freesia's face stiffened, and she twirled away from him. "Thanks for the delivery. Do I need to sign?"

He held the scanner toward her. She had to move closer to sign, and he took advantage of the few seconds he had left with her. "I like your art."

Her eyes shifted to his and back to the floor. "Thank you."

"I like the arrangement with the white and pink ruffle flowers and yellow...are those daffodils?"

She smiled a wide, genuine smile, and Brennan felt like victory pumping and yelling, score! "That's for a new baby."

"How do you combine such contrasting flowers and make art?"

She looked him full in the face and sparkled. He felt nutty about her, but she did. She sparkled.

"The ruffle flowers mean love of a mother and innocence. The yellow daffodils mean joy and new beginnings. Perfect expressions for a new, beloved child."

"I didn't know flowers have meaning. Of course, roses mean love, but I never thought about other flowers. Do all flowers have meanings?"

She grinned. "Red roses mean love. Each color has a different meaning. Even garden flowers have meaning. I can't put them all in a vase and have them keep, but most I can work with."

"You're remarkable."

Pink came into her cheeks, but she looked back at the ground and shifted her feet. He moved too fast.

Rosemary rushed into the front room. "I can't get the delivery van to start, and we've got the library luncheon in an hour!"

The color drained from Freesia's face. "Can we get the arrangements into the back of the crossover?"

"I tried. They're too tall."

"You can use my van." The offer popped from his mouth without thought. Patrick would disown him. "I have to drive, but I can carry the arrangements."

Rosemary's posture relaxed. "You would do that?"

"Well, I don't know what to do with the flowers."

"She'll go with you," Rosemary said with a loud voice.

Freesia stiffened, shooting her sister a fierce glare. She glanced up at him then raced to her sister's side and dragged her into the back room. He felt like unwanted leftovers. He heard them furiously whispering.

|  |

---|---|---

# Chapter 3

Freesia

"What are you thinking? Aren't you the big sister who said I should never under any circumstances get into a van with a stranger?"

"He's not a stranger. Besides, he likes you, and you know it. He's here every Monday asking about you, looking for you, trying to talk to you. What are you afraid of? He's gorgeous and rich."

"I don't know him, Rosemary. I've seen him four times."

"Keep your cell in your lap and text me a safe word if he tries to gag you and tie you up." Rosemary's expression morphed into glee. "Or don't. That could be interesting, too."

Freesia rolled her eyes. "I can't believe you said that. It's not even original. I'm not going with him."

"We don't have a choice. Or do you have a delivery van stashed somewhere I don't know about?"

"You go with him."

"I can't leave the store. You'll have a panic attack if more than two people come in."

"What are you talking about? You make deliveries all the time. You were just on the way out."

"I want you to take your time. Don't rush back. While you're gone, I'll arrange a tow to the mechanic." Rosemary's face softened. "He's sweet, Freesia. You know he is."

"All right." Freesia moved toward the front room. "Oleander."

"What?"

"My safe word. Oleanders are deadly."

"Gotcha." Rosemary laughed.

Freesia peeked around the corner at Brennan. He stood in the middle of the room with his cap in his hands looking like his dog just died. What was she scared of? He'd been nothing but nice to her.

She grabbed her purse and walked toward him. "Ok, if you're willing to load up and deliver the flowers, we could really use your help."

His face transformed with his smile. "No problem."

"Can you pull around to the back?"

"Be there in a sec." He disappeared out the door.

She couldn't help a little smile. He was cute. Who was she kidding? He was hot with a capital H and an exclamation point. She moved out to the alley to meet him and load up the library's arrangements.

When she climbed into the passenger side of the van, she didn't know what to expect. Most guys' cars were disgusting, full of fast-food wrappers, odd and end tools, greasy receipts. At least, the few interiors she'd seen throughout high school, college, and the lives of her brother and dad. She took a whiff and a look around. The spotless interior and fresh smell surprised her.

He gave her a look full of amusement. "It's a company van. I have a detailer."

"The way the other half lives." She smiled.

"I have to make my own deliveries along the way, is that all right?"

"Of course." She shifted in her seat, hoping they wouldn't fall into an awkward silence.

"Tell me about the floral shop. Does Rosemary own it herself?"

"She inherited it from our grandmother." Freesia's bittersweet smile wobbled. "My Gran was a sharp businesswoman and a great artist. Rosemary has the business mind."

"And you're the artist."

"Yeah. Rosemary can do basic arrangements like nobody's business. She works hard on every aspect of the shop. Sometimes when we're slammed, she sleeps on the office floor."

"Do you have help? I've only seen the two of you."

"During the holidays and June wedding season, we hire delivery drivers and extra hands. We have a regular part-time college student most afternoons. She's got finals this month, so we've not had her on hand." Freesia snuck a sideways look at his profile. She hoped she wouldn't have to use her safe word. He asked a lot of questions.

He stopped outside the local pharmacy. "I'll be right back."

Brennan climbed into the back of the van and collected a couple of boxes, disappeared inside the store, and jumped back in the van.

"That was fast. You're never in and out of our place."

He shifted in his seat and shot her a nervous look. "You need to get to the library."

"Right." Could he like her? Could Rosemary be right? She stared at him.

After a few more deliveries, they stopped in front of the Olde Towne library housed in a two-story domed building. She hopped out and gathered one of the arrangements. Brennan grabbed the other two.

"Lead the way," he said.

Inside, they were greeted by the head librarian. "Thank goodness. I wondered if something had happened. This way to the meeting hall."

Freesia checked out the room and suggested the best place to display the flowers.

The librarian gave her a pleased smile. "As always, stunning. How do you do it?" She reached out to finger the delicate blossoms.

"Don't touch them. Wait until after if you must." She smiled to soften her words. "I'm glad you're satisfied."

"What do they mean?" Brennan asked.

The librarian gave him a funny look, but Freesia smiled. He'd been sincere in his earlier questions. "Alstroemeria means fortune, delphinium means fun, and the Gerbera daisy means cheerfulness. It's about joy and happiness and hopefully some good fortune for the library." She nodded to the librarian. "I hope your luncheon is a success."

"Thank you. Again, your arrangements are unique. I'm sure they'll invite our guests to linger."

"Don't forget to share her business cards," said Brennan.

She could've melted into the floor, but the librarian nodded. "I will, of course."

Freesia pulled cards from the holder in her purse. "We appreciate your business."

She gripped Brennan's arm and yanked him toward the door. "I know what to do. I don't need your help to advertise, thank you very much, Mr. Money."

He frowned. "I didn't mean to insult you. She's the one saying the guests will talk about the arrangements. Why not hand out your cards?"

"I know what to do."

"Ok, I'm sorry."

He looked crushed, and her irritation melted. "Don't worry about it, but next time don't speak for me."

A grin broke over his face. "There will be a next time?"

Why did she say that? The possibility made him happy. Freesia felt conflicted. Didn't he have equally rich women to pay attention to?

He parked in the alley by her car.

"Thank you, Brennan." She found it hard to meet his eyes.

He cleared his throat. "About that next time. Can I take you to dinner sometime?"

Her eyes flew to his face. "I-I don't know."

"Think about it. We could go to the pier. Would you like that?"

She'd love it. Walking along the pier, getting chowder, visiting the shops, listening to the waves. It happened to be one of her favorite places. "I'll think about it."

He grinned. "Let me know Monday, ok?"

She watched the van pull out of the alley and turn down the street. Had she lost her mind? He had tons of money and led a glamorous lifestyle. Brennan was way out of her league. After his three-month lesson, he'd be gone.

Brennan

He grinned all the way to the parking garage to return the van. She might go out with him. Brennan considered it progress. He wouldn't worry about what to do if she turned him down.

The more time he spent with her, the more he liked her. She had a fire under the shyness, and she was thoughtful and smart. Who knew she put so much heart into her arrangements? They were more than pretty. They were poetic. He needed to think of a way to work with that.

His mother had finished a course of chemo and radiation with a good report from her last scan. Freesia could make a special arrangement to celebrate. His chest tightened with the thought of his mom. The doctors were optimistic.

Brennan had an entire week before he'd see Freesia again. Why hadn't he gotten her number and said he'd call in a few days?

The buzz of his phone recalled his attention to work. "Hey, Dad."

"Brennan, can you come into the office early tomorrow? The test panel didn't care for the new logo or slogan."

"Great. What does Declan say?"

"Back to the drawing board. He'll meet with us and the marketing team."

"I'll be there." Brennan had to focus. He tried to put Freesia in the back of his mind.

Declan grumbled under his breath next to Brennan.

Mark from advertising gestured to the illustration he had projected on the screen. "We didn't get good results with the leprechaun."

"What didn't they like?" Declan asked. "It's a great leprechaun!"

The leprechaun looked a hundred years old with deep crevices covering his forehead.

Brennan shot him an amused sideways grin. "They found your character somewhat creepy."

"It didn't make them want to hire us as movers or couriers. Definitely didn't want to rent our vans." Amanda shook her hair as she laughed.

"It may be too much detail in the face," Patrick said, studying the illustration.

"They didn't like the wrinkly eyes or the pointed green shoes," Mark said, trying to hold in a grin.

"He looks like a goblin, Declan." Brennan slapped his brother's shoulder. "It's not bad art, but it doesn't attract customers."

Sally offered Declan a smile and patted his hand. "It's too predictable. An Irish family using a leprechaun isn't unique."

"Why didn't any of you say this before we submitted the logo?" Declan's anger roiled in his voice.

"It's good art," Brennan said.

"We're telling you what the panel said. I like it." Sally's eyes crinkled with her wide smile.

Brennan chuckled. She didn't stand a chance, but she had the hots for his brother.

"Go back to brainstorming. Think of something not so predictable and Irish." Patrick thumped his pen on the desk. "What about the pattern, the colors for the branding?"

"Again, dark green is predictable, boring," Amanda said with a frown.

"Worse than white vans?" Declan glared at everyone sitting around the table.

"We'll meet next week with ideas." Patrick stood and dismissed the group. "I'd like to have this settled before the gala."

Brennan waited for everyone to leave and faced his dejected brother. "It's not so bad. Think of this as an opportunity to expand."

"Easy for you to say."

"Don't take it so personally, bro."

"It feels personal when something you create is rejected." Declan's gaze shifted out the window. "How're things going with your flower girl?"

Brennan leaned back in his chair and laced his fingers behind his head. "I'm making progress. She might agree to a date next Monday."

Declan laughed. "You know when she agrees and you go out a few times, you'll be bored. Same as always."

"Not with her." He took a turn gazing out the window at nothing. "She's special, artistic. You'll like her."

"Are you inviting her to Appreciation Day?"

"I will if things progress."

"If she's not impressed now, she will be when she sees the big house."

Brennan shook his head. "I don't get that vibe from her. She's not flashy or materialistic. I'm more concerned about our wealth intimidating her."

"You're waiting an entire week to find out about a date?" Declan shook his head. "Anything could happen in a week."

"Nope. I'm going to make a run by her shop this afternoon."

"I'd say bring her flowers, but that's her thing."

"That's a problem I hadn't thought of."

"What did you say, 'think of this as your opportunity to expand'?"

Brennan considered how to explain his unexpected visit. He couldn't get Freesia out of his head and longed to see her again. A week was too long to wait.

The bells over the door announced his arrival, and Freesia glanced up while putting the finishing touches on a customer's arrangement. Her eyes widened a second when she saw him, and she wiped her hands across the skirt of her apron.

She looked cute in her ruffly apron. His attention lingered where the ties cinched her waist and highlighted her curves.

"This is a surprise."

Her voice brought his eyes to her face, where pink highlighted her cheeks. He moved aside for the customer to walk past him.

"I wanted to see you about an arrangement." He stepped close to her side.

She looked up at him with, he hoped, admiration. He wore a suit instead of the courier uniform, and her gaze drifted across his shoulders. She checked him out. He grinned and leaned against the counter.

"An arrangement for a special someone?" She busied her hands cleaning up ribbon bits and rejected cards on the countertop.

"Yeah. She's been through a lot, and I want her to know how much I care."

Freesia's eyes blazed a second, and his heart leaped. Could she be jealous?

"What would you like to say to her?" Her hands trembled as she picked up a sticky pad and pen.

"She's strong and joyful through hardship. I'm devoted to her."

Freesia's eyes darted away from his. "A lovely sentiment."

"You think my mother will be pleased?"

Her eyes flew to his face, and he couldn't stop his grin. "Your mother."

"She completed a round of cancer treatment and got a clean scan. I want to give her something special to celebrate, and I thought of you. Can you help me?"

A brilliant smile flashed over her face, catching the breath in his chest. "I'd love to. That's sweet, Brennan."

She bustled into the back and came out with a pot of flowers and a few loose, tall cut flowers.

She pushed the pot toward him across the counter. "These are pansies, and she can keep them growing. They mean devotion. The cut flowers are gladiolas meaning strength and the bird of paradise mean joy. The pink carnations mean love of a mother."

"Can you mix the cut flowers and make them art?"

"Watch me." Her chin lifted with confidence.

She told him to choose a tall vase from their display and arranged the tall and short flowers in a complicated array. Using a thick ribbon, she attached the vase to the pot of pansies and tied an intricate bow.

He watched her fingers at work and the graceful way she moved. Her fingertips brushed the flowers' stems, and he wondered how those fingers would feel in his hands, on his skin.

"Ta-da." She waved her hand over her masterpiece with a smirky grin.

"It's pretty and funky. She'll love it."

"Here." She handed him an assortment of cards to choose from. "Write down what the flowers mean to you."

He couldn't take his eyes off her to write.

She colored under his gaze and tucked a loose strand of hair over her ear. "Is something wrong?" Her eyes shifted to a mirror.

"You're lovely."

Her lips parted in surprise. He could almost hear her thought, "me?" The desire to kiss those lips filled him.

"Um." His brain fried. "I wish I could get you flowers."

"What?"

"I'd like to tell you a few things." He held her gaze, and his temperature rose. "What flower says, 'you're lovely'? What says, 'I can't stop thinking of you'?"

"Brennan," her voice whispered his name. "I'm ordinary, plain, compared to your life."

"I see beauty and grace and sweetness." He came around the counter to stand in front of her and took her trembling hand in his. "I like your modesty and admire your thoughtfulness. I want to know everything about you, Freesia."

"You're sweet."

"I'm sincere." He reached out to tuck that lock of hair back over her ear. "Say you'll go out with me. I can't wait a week to hear your answer."

"I would like that." She smiled, shy but hopeful. "Yes."

"Good. Can you tell me what flowers I gave you?"

She laughed. "Gardenias say 'you are lovely'. They're one of my favorites and smell wonderful, but they don't keep long. Modesty and thoughtfulness are lilies and pansies. Some flowers can mean more than one thing depending on the circumstances. What else did you say?"

He still held her hand and rubbed his thumb across her knuckles. "I can't stop thinking of you."

"Oh." She looked down at the floor before raising her eyes to meet his. She had such beautiful eyes. "White clover."

"Really? Very Irish, wouldn't you say?"

She laughed.

"Can I pick you up on Saturday?"

"Yes." She smiled. "Give me your number, and I'll text you my address."

|  |

---|---|---

# Chapter 4

Freesia

She felt excited to see Brennan but found his interest in her unbelievable. Tingles still coursed over her skin with the memory of his touch on her hand. The warmth and longing in his dark eyes had melted her insides.

Rosemary insisted on being present when he picked her up. When Freesia came out of her room ready for the date, her sister frowned.

"What's wrong?" She looked down at herself.

"You aren't wearing that?"

"Jeans and a t-shirt?"

"Go put on a sundress and some cute sandals. Dress up a little for him."

"I'll freeze."

"Bring a wrap." Rosemary smirked. "If you do get cold, let him warm you."

Freesia slapped Rosemary's arm. "Fine. A sundress."

When she came out, Rosemary nodded approval. "Nice."

"I don't know what he sees in me."

"Think of him as a regular guy. You're too hung up on his money."

Freesia sat at her laptop desk. "I've wanted to do an internet search, but I keep putting it off."

"Let's do it."

Freesia typed in Brennan O'Hanrahan. "A few results. See, he's got a gorgeous woman on his arm in almost all of these pictures."

Rosemary scoffed. "Of course, he does. These were all taken at events. The man had to bring a date, and why shouldn't he date beautiful women? He's a hottie."

"I know." Freesia's skin heated picturing him.

"You're beautiful, sister mine. Understated maybe, but you're every bit as beautiful as these girls, and you've got a figure whereas these girls all look like sticks."

Freesia had to agree. "They look like models. Glamorous, cultured, rich."

"Hungry, bony, boring."

Freesia laughed. "His family's company has a good reputation." She scrolled through the results.

The doorbell rang, and her heart jumped into her throat. She stared at Rosemary with panic.

"Go," Rosemary said, giving her a shove from the chair.

When she opened the door and looked up at him, the warmth that leaped into his eyes reassured and excited her.

His gaze lingered over her. "You're beautiful," he said on a breath.

"Thank you." She stepped back. "Would you like to come in a minute?"

"Sure." He stepped inside and took in her modest home. "I'm impressed you bought a house on your own."

"Oh no, it's a rental. It's my parents' place."

"Sorry."

"No, don't worry about it. I have a great deal and independence. I'm not complaining." Her simple place didn't compare to the homes the internet search displayed as his ancestral mansion and personal deluxe residence.

Rosemary shook his hand. "You keep her warm. Remember the unpredictable spring weather."

He appeared stunned. Freesia took his arm and waved off Rosemary. "Ignore her. Ready to go?"

He drove a plush sports car, exactly what she'd imagined he would drive. She ran her hands over the leather upholstery.

"Nice."

He grinned. "Thanks. Do you like the waterfront?"

"It's one of my favorite places in town. I'm looking forward to tonight."

He reached out and interlaced their fingers. Tingles shot up her arm. "Me too."

When they parked and walked onto the pier, Freesia couldn't help beaming up at him and taking his arm. "It's a perfect day."

"Do you come to the beach often?"

"I scavenge for my driftwood art. When I want to get away, the beach is always soothing."

He stopped to lean against the pier railing, looked over the water. Clouds covered the sun, and the air chilled.

When he turned to her, he reached out to catch her hair in the breeze and tuck it behind her ear. "Your eyes are like the sea. They captivated me the first moment I saw you."

"Thank you."

The way he stared at her, she thought he might kiss her. The thought thrilled her, and she couldn't keep a glance from flicking to his lips. She shivered a bit from the breeze and pulled her wrap tighter. It broke the spell.

"Do you want to get chowder and warm up a bit?"

"Please. If the sun comes out, it'll be nice for a walk."

Brennan wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her against him as they walked toward the restaurants and shops that lined the pier. She loved the entire look of the pier village with the shack-like shops and restaurants standing on stilts. Gulls cawed and swooped in the air. People mingled and fished from the sides of the pier. Pelicans clustered on the railing and stood like sentinels on posts that rose from the water.

When they settled into a corner table overlooking the water, she told him of her love for the village. "My father used to bring us all here in the summer. We'd fish and swim and fly kites. It's one of my favorite memories."

"Are both of your parents still living?"

"Yes, but they divorced when I was twelve."

His face darkened. "I'm sorry."

"Divorce is rough. It colored my view of marriage, but I'm all grown up and deal with it better now."

"My sister and her husband are going through something, and I hope they can fix it. If anyone could make it, I thought they could."

"I look back on my parents and see how they could've fixed things, but they didn't try. There's stuff I probably don't know."

"You said it changed how you view marriage?"

"I see it as hard work and not romantic fairy tales. I see it as worth the work, and if two people are truly committed, they'll do what it takes."

A smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. "That's not what I expected."

She smirked. "You thought I'd sworn off marriage and thought all men were the devil?"

"Something like that."

"No. I saw two people who loved each other and had kids throw it away when things got rough. Marriage is special. It has meaning. When I get married, I want it to be forever."

He reached out and covered her hand with his. "You're a romantic."

"I am, but I admire and respect couples who stay married into old age and stay devoted. That's what I want."

"My parents are like that. No matter what came while we were growing up, they stuck it out. They'd fight and argue sometimes for days, but they always came to an agreement eventually."

"A lot of people with money don't make it."

"How many people with money do you know?" He smiled to soften his question.

"Good point. Media and society have colored my opinion."

They ordered chowder and were quiet while they ate. He watched her, making her feel nervous and wonder if she had soup in her hair. She gave him a funny look that made him chuckle.

"You're graceful. I'm admiring how you eat, how you move." His expression warmed, and she felt a blush.

Brennan led her back to the pier, his fingers entwined with hers. It felt delicious, her hand in his, and a happy excitement blossomed in her belly.

"Can we get ice cream?" she asked.

"I thought you were cold."

Pulling him close to her side, she smiled into his face. "The pier isn't the same without ice cream."

Sitting side-by-side on the top of a picnic table, she took her time with her cup of butter pecan while he scarfed his rocky road waffle cone. She giggled.

He glanced at her and raised his brows.

"You ate that so fast I'm surprised you tasted it."

He laughed and watched her suck each drop off her spoon before going for another dip. She licked the spoon. His expression heated, smoldered. He focused on her lips. Excitement shot through her belly. Taking hold of her wrists, he held her still while he closed the distance between them. He brushed his lips over hers in a gentle caress.

A hiss of breath escaped her as a tingling took over her mouth. Longing for a kiss, a true, deep kiss, rushed through her. She gripped his shirt and pulled him back to her. He smiled against her mouth as he kissed her again. His lips were cool from the ice cream, but the inside of his mouth was hot, moist and sweet. She pressed to deepen the kiss and draw closer to his heat.

He brushed a hand across her cheek and kissed her again and again, soft lingering presses of his lips to hers. "You taste like ice cream." Kissed her. "Sweet." Kissed her. "And delicious."

She wanted to cling to him and ravish his mouth, but she pushed her hands against his chest. Easing back, he smiled with understanding.

Glancing at the people walking by, she picked up the ice cream cup. Words wouldn't come. She wanted to say how wonderful his kiss felt, how his sweet lips blew her mind, but the words stuck in her throat. Instead, she stuffed ice cream in her mouth. Brennan won best first kiss ever.

Brennan

He couldn't trust himself to look at her again. The way her tongue flicked over that spoon drove him wild. Her mouth had been luscious and hot. His gut clenched. Underneath her shyness, she burned with passion, and he couldn't wait to explore that side of her.

She hopped off the table and gave him a shy smile. He entangled their fingers and continued their walk toward the end of the pier.

"You're a rocky road man. Would you choose ice cream or popcorn?"

He chuckled. "Ice cream. Chocolate or candy?" If he couldn't get her flowers, he wanted to know what she would like.

"Chocolate all the way. I've never candied much. You?"

"Sour Patch Kids."

"Really. Movies or video games?"

"Movies. I never got into video games."

She looked shocked. "A man not into video games? You're too perfect to be real."

He laughed. "I'll take that compliment. We had all the latest gadgets growing up, but my mom was a tiger about getting us outside climbing trees and exploring the woods behind our house. She made us stay outside all day in nice weather. I suspect she also wanted us out of her hair. Summers were great. We had a pool, of course."

"Of course. What's a mansion without a pool?"

He smirked at her. "My parents were fun and outgoing. We had the best pool parties."

"I admire your mom's attitude." She tilted her head with thought, and a little crease formed between her brows. "Did she like her flowers?"

He touched his forehead. "I should've told you. She loved them. I'm her favorite kid for the week. I meant to say something, but you opened the door wearing that sundress, and my mind went blank."

She squeezed his hand. "You're sweet. I'm glad it made her happy. Books or movies?"

"Movies. Stereotypical action and monster movies."

She pressed a hand over her heart with a dramatic sigh. "I'm shocked and disappointed. Books. Romance and mystery. I relish a good book especially on a rainy day."

"Classics? Pride and Prejudice or Jane Eyre."

"I'm impressed with your question."

"I am college-educated. Don't stomp on my ego."

She laughed. "Jane Eyre. The emotion and passion move me. I enjoy the spooky, gothic element, too."

They stopped against the rail to look over the water and watch the fishermen. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her to his side. She snuggled into him, and his heart squeezed.

"Are you warm enough?"

"Mmhmm."

When she glanced up at him, the sunlight caught in her eyes, highlighting the colors of the sea. She was gorgeous. He leaned toward her mouth, watching her, and took her lips in a soft kiss. He controlled it, kept it light, but it required every ounce of his self-control to not devour her. When he pulled back, she took a second to open her eyes, and he hoped she felt the same.

"Mexican or Chinese?" he asked with a grin.

She laughed. "Both. I'm a fan of food. Are you picky?"

He shrugged. "I could eat Italian every day and be satisfied."

"You guys are Irish?"

"Originally on Dad's side. We're typical Americans, all mixed up."

"But your company sticks with the Irish theme?"

"It's our last name and the roots of the company. We're proud of our heritage. My father and brother Declan are focused on rebranding, updating the logo and theme, the colors."

"That sounds fun."

"For the creatives in the family maybe. I admire art, like yours, but I'm all business. Declan's the artist."

"How's the rebranding going? Is your three-month lesson whetting your interest?"

He paused to think before responding and gazed over the water. "It's going. We've yet to find something the test panel responds to. Marketing is feeling the pressure. Declan is feeling the pressure. I'm feeling a stirring of interest for the business, but I've had other things on my mind." He looked into her eyes. She pinked and shot her eyes to the water.

Brennan didn't want the day to end, but he'd kept her out long enough. He didn't want her to tire of him. "Let's head back toward the car."

She agreed, and they walked along the pier not speaking much. The quiet felt comfortable, easy.

When he stopped the car in front of her house, she knotted her hands together with nerves.

"I had a wonderful time." Her gaze shifted to his and away.

"I did, too. Better than I expected." He touched his hand to her cheek, drawing her gaze back to him. "I like you, Freesia, a lot. Can I see you again?"

A trembly smile softened her mouth. "I'd like that."

Relief flooded him. "My family is having a cookout next weekend. It's casual, just us. Would you come?"

"I'd love to."

"Perfect." He gave her his best smile. "I'll call you this week."

She stared at his mouth. Longing burned in her hazel gaze, making the breath stutter in his chest. "Will I see you on Monday?"

His heart pounded. She wanted to see him, and he wanted those sweet lips. "If I have a delivery. If not, I'll call." Leaning toward her, he pressed his lips to hers and pulled away. "You better go. I'm finding your mouth irresistible, and I'm trying to be a gentleman."

She slipped from the car, and he watched her until she stepped inside and gave him a little wave. He pressed his hand over his tight chest. "Freesia, what are you doing to me?"

|  |

---|---|---

# Chapter 5

Freesia

A tall, scrolled metal fence surrounded the outside of the O'Hanrahan estate. Brennan's car swung up to the gate, and he punched in a gate code. Her senses swam. Could this life be real? The drive continued under a curved-oaks canopy. She didn't know anything like this existed outside of southern plantation-like places. She'd been intimidated by his posh apartment building, but this is where he grew up.

"You've gone quiet." His expression turned serious, wary.

"I'm feeling overwhelmed, and all I've seen is the driveway."

He reached for her hand and squeezed. "It's just a big house. We're just folk."

Freesia scolded herself. She would enjoy the cookout and her time with Brennan. How many girls got to experience this with a wonderful man? "You're right. I'm looking forward to the day."

When the drive opened to circle around a wide fountain with three separate sprays of water, doubts flooded her. She'd seen the house online, so the beauty and size didn't shock her. Seeing it in person somehow made it real. Built of pinkish brick and a myriad of windows with white shutters, the mansion had a main center section and east and west wings. Massive double columns supported the front corners of the porch.

She rolled her eyes at Brennan.

He scowled. "I won't apologize for having nice stuff, but I hope you see past it to what matters."

"You act like this is normal."

"It is normal for me."

He searched her face, and she couldn't say what he saw or what she wanted him to see. She'd be lying if she acted like this didn't intimidate her. Sweet, handsome Brennan had been down-to-earth every time they were together like a regular guy. But as the CEO in training of a billion-dollar-a-year company, he wasn't a regular guy. What was she doing? His kind of people hired her kind to decorate their front hall. This could only lead to heartache. It had been easy to forget when they walked on the pier, a place familiar and beloved to her.

"Freesia, give me a chance." His expression pleaded with her. "Come inside. Hang out with us. You'll see. Think about it as the floral shop boomed, and you opened more, and they boomed, and the money flooded in. You did something you loved and offered people a service, and it succeeded. It wouldn't make you better or worse. You'd still be you. You'd still be Freesia. That's what you're seeing. A man worked hard to prove himself and succeeded and passed that success to his children. It doesn't make us better or worse. I'm your local Monday delivery guy." He grinned, and she found herself smiling. "Would it help if I wore the uniform?"

She laughed. "I understand what you're saying." She waved her hand toward the view out of the car windows. "Since this is normal to you, it's hard for you to see it the way I see it."

His brow furrowed. "How do you see it?"

"It's beyond me. It's a world I'm not a part of. I'm ordinary, and this is spectacular. I'm plain, and this is sophisticated and glamorous." Emotion rose in her chest, unexpected and confusing. "You are out of my league, Brennan."

"No." His voice sounded hard and sure, and he clasped her hands. "I'm crazy about you. You have beauty and talent I admire. Come with me, and I'll prove to you my family is normal. We're going to eat burgers and hot dogs with ketchup on paper plates. Please, Freesia, give me a chance."

Her heart thundered in her chest. This gorgeous man begged her for a chance. It felt unreal. She stared at him, and he reached out to cup her cheek. His eyes warmed, and emotion shone in their depth. The way he looked at her made her melt.

"What do you want?" he asked, so quiet he almost whispered. "Do you like me?"

"You know I do."

"Give us a chance. Let's see where this goes." He ran his thumb across her cheek. "I hate to pressure you, but if we don't get out of the car, my brother will tease us for making out."

A laugh spurted out of her, and she felt herself relax. "All right."

His entire face transformed into a smile. She moved to open her door, but he jumped from the car and ran around to open it for her.

She took his hand and rose up on her tiptoes to kiss him. "You make me feel special, Brennan O'Hanrahan."

He wrapped his free arm around her waist and pulled her against him. "You are special, Freesia Bellamy." He captured her mouth in a warm, fast kiss that weakened her knees.

Keeping hold of her hand, he led her down a brick walkway to a side door. It opened into a sunroom set up as an informal dining area. A rustic gray-wood table stretched through the space. He took off his shoes and tossed them into a basket beside the door, and she followed his cue. Laughter and a mingling of voices drifted into the room. A delicious smell wafted through the air.

"I thought you said burgers and hot dogs. Something smells divine."

"That's my mother's chili. Best chili for dogs you'll ever taste."

He kept a tight grip on her hand as they walked through the sunroom into a yellow kitchen with cream cabinets and red-brick floor. She felt swallowed by comfort. The last of her nerves settled.

A thin, petite woman stood at the stove, stirring an enormous pot. She must be his mom. A colorful scarf wrapped her head. Freesia's chest ached over the ordeal Brennan and his family had endured.

She turned and big, brown eyes lit. "Brennan!" She gathered her son in a quick pat and squeeze before turning her attention to Freesia. "You must be his flower girl, Freesia. I'm so pleased you came."

Freesia stepped forward to shake her hand, but she patted the hand away and looped her thin arms around Freesia's waist for a hug.

"It's nice to meet you, Mrs. O'Hanrahan."

"Call me Bethany, please. Would you like some lemonade? Brennan, see to your girl."

"Yes, mam." He shot Freesia a wink as he stuck his head in the fridge.

"I'd love some, thank you."

Brennan poured her a glass and recaptured her hand, led her into the next room. People filled the cozy den. Freesia's nerves returned with force.

A small fire crackled with brown leather sofas facing the warmth. Deep red paint colored the walls, making the room feel intimate. A high ceiling with exposed beams and rock wall fire surround completed the scene.

She scanned the people, Brennan's family. An older gentleman moved with confident grace toward them with his hand extended to her and a dazzling smile lighting his expression.

His handshake felt warm and firm. "You must be Freesia. It's so nice to meet you. I'm Patrick, Brennan's dad."

"Nice to meet you too, sir."

He winked at Brennan. "Call me Patrick." He gestured toward the young man standing in front of the fire. "This is Declan."

Declan reached forward to shake her hand with a devilish grin. He had reddish-brown hair and light eyes. He made her think of a leprechaun, but she managed not to blurt it out. He'd probably heard it his entire life.

A lovely young woman sat on the sofa with a baby cuddled on her lap. "I'm Shannon. I'd get up but." She smiled and gestured over the sleeping little girl. "This is my youngest, Gretchen."

A crash sounded from upstairs, and a growling roar thundered. The stairs echoed with running stomps.

Shannon cringed. "That's my son, Cody." A shadow crossed her face. "My husband Lucas is up there with him."

Cody appeared in the room with an aluminum foil sword clutched in one hand. He wore a black pirate hat and a red towel tucked into his t-shirt like a cape. "Beware the dreaded pirate Red Blood!"

A tall, lanky man stumbled into the room behind Cody, gripping his side and gasping. "I've been mortally wounded!" He fell against the sofa Shannon sat in and dropped to the floor. "Help me, Fair Maiden!"

Shannon sneered at him, and Freesia's chest clenched at the pain that passed between them. Standing, Shannon held Gretchen close to her chest and stepped over Lucas. She fled into the kitchen. A heavy silence followed her wake.

Freesia looked to Brennan, and he shrugged.

"Who's hungry?" Declan called. "Time to fire up the grill!"

"Everyone outside," Patrick directed.

Brennan squeezed Freesia's hand. "We're letting Shannon work it out her way, but it's painful to watch. From what I've observed, she's furious with him, and he's trying to win her back."

The back deck displayed a gardener's dream, and Freesia beamed up at Brennan. "It's wonderful."

He grinned. "My mom has a green thumb. You two should chat. Declan's art studio would blow your mind. I think you fit just fine in my world."

She felt like she fit. They were normal with sadness and pain and love and joy, like all families. Brennan took an Adirondack chair next to his brother while Freesia wandered among the potted plants and cascading flowers. His mother had a good eye as well. The combinations she'd created weren't typical, but the colors harmonized.

The deck felt like an oasis. It terraced down from the house to the pool. A pool house in the distance matched the big house in style. Her house could fit inside the pool house, and Freesia smiled. This might seem normal to him, but she saw money and quality in every inch of the space. They had class and warmth, and those qualities made all the difference.

Shannon motioned her over, and Freesia settled into a bistro chair to sip her lemonade.

"I'm sorry about my reaction earlier. I shouldn't let my personal stuff fly in front of guests."

"Don't worry about it. Cody seems like a fun kid."

Her face brightened. "He is. Rowdy and full of life." She glanced over at Freesia and studied her. "So, are you and Brennan getting serious?"

"We just started seeing each other."

"Mmhmm. He looks smitten. No pressure, honest, but he's a good man."

"It's new. I'm a little overwhelmed by all of this," Freesia waved her hand over the house and family. "But I like him a lot, and we're seeing how things go."

The word like sounded tame for the emotion Brennan raised in her and the response she felt to his kiss. She watched him laugh with his brother, and he looked at her. Their gazes met and held.

"Whew." Shannon fanned herself.

Freesia laughed. "He is hot."

"Ew," Shannon pointed at her chest. "Sister."

They laughed together.

"He's sweet, too," Freesia said.

"That's a side of him I'm not sure his usual type sees. The money, yes. The hot, yes. The smile, yes." Shannon's eyes twinkled. "The secret, sweet, vulnerable person he doesn't always show. You must be special."

"But no pressure," Freesia whispered.

Shannon patted her hand. "I want you to know he truly cares, and all of this," she waved like Freesia had, "shouldn't intimidate you."

"That's what he says."

"I hope you won't hurt him. Don't lead him to think you can deal and bolt."

"He knows how I feel." Freesia's walls built. Shannon acted as his sister but made her feel interrogated.

Brennan appeared at her side and frowned at Shannon. "The food's done. You hungry?"

They gathered beside patio tables. Patrick laid out trays of meat on one while Bethany brought trays of fixings from the kitchen. Declan carried the huge pot of chili.

"Anyone want a beer?" Brennan asked.

Hands shot up in the air, and he disappeared inside the house.

Lucas helped Cody with a plate while Shannon sat back holding Gretchen.

Freesia watched the well-ordered routine and family dynamic. She'd missed this since her parents' divorce. Glancing at Shannon, she wished for a way to help her. Did she take all of this for granted? Why risk the beauty of this night?

They settled around a patio table and joked and talked with each other. Brennan sat across from her and watched her most of the time as if he couldn't take his eyes off her. She felt thrilled and flattered and caught herself smiling wildly. His admiration filled her with giddy laughter and energy like the buzz of an espresso shot.

Freesia stood to help clear the table and picked up a tray of condiment-laden paper plates and discarded napkins. She followed Bethany toward the French doors.

She felt Brennan's gaze on her as she moved across the deck and glanced back to meet his eyes with a smile. Forgetting the terraced design of the deck and not watching where she stepped, Freesia set herself up for her klutz. The toe of her shoe caught the step outside the doors, and she tripped, sending the tray airborne. A collective gasp rose from the group. She landed heavily on her knees and scraped the palms of her hands across the wooden planks. The tray clattered to the deck. Paper plates and napkins landed around her. Sticky plates clung to her head and her back before she could regain her balance and her dignity.

Shame weaved heat through her, and she felt her skin flush red. Brennan's hands gripped her waist as he helped right her.

"Are you all right?"

"Yes." She had to force herself to look at him. "Embarrassed."

He took her hands and turned them over to inspect her palms. "We need to clean these scratches." A smile tugged at his mouth as he plucked a plate from her hair and another from the back of her shirt.

"Go ahead, laugh." She shook her head at herself. "I'm such a klutz."

The rest of the family let her be and thankfully didn't fuss over her.

Bethany ran a hand down her arm. "Go on to the bathroom upstairs. You'll find everything you need in there."

"I'll take you," Brennan said, guiding her forward with a hand at her back.

She followed him to the stairs near the den and up to the second floor, hall bathroom.

Inside, the bathroom contained a long counter with sinks on either end. Brennan patted the space in between. She hopped onto the counter, facing him but still having trouble meeting his eyes.

He took her chin and tilted her face up to look at him. "I'm glad you're ok. It wasn't so bad."

A shaky sigh escaped her. "I'm so embarrassed. In front of everyone. This may go to the top of my most embarrassing moment list."

He did laugh then.

"I should tell you," she said, her voice going low and serious. "I'm a serious klutz. It's a well-known joke in my family."

"You only tripped because I distracted you." He rubbed a hand over her shoulder. "It wasn't you."

"I knocked you over in the lobby, fell on top of you in the shop. How I've not scared you off, I don't know." She took a wetted towel and rubbed at a ketchup glob on her shirt.

He chuckled. She met his gaze, warm with humor and something delicious that made her fuzzy.

"All of those incidents have me in common. I slipped in the lobby and pulled you down. I knocked the door into the ladder making you fall. Maybe..." His voice dropped to a whisper, and his grip on her shoulder tightened. She stared at him, unable to look away. "Maybe you and I are made for each other, two accident-prone people brought together by the universe." His lips quivered trying to hold back a smile, and she knew he teased her.

He soaped up his hands and held them in front of her. "Now, let's see about getting the ketchup out of your hair."

She laughed as he ran strands of goopy hair through his fingers.

"Don't worry about it," she said after a while. "Now I've got ketchup and soap in my hair."

He rinsed his hands and smiled. "I like that you're not prissy."

She felt mortified and hated having a big wet blotch on her shirt and gross, stringy hair, but if Brennan thought she handled the situation well, she'd keep her mouth shut.

Opening the cupboards, he laid out cotton balls, antiseptic, and bandages. Taking her hands, he gently cleaned the scrapes and bandaged them. It felt intimate the way his fingers brushed over her skin, and he stood so close his chest filled her vision.

She cleared her throat when he finished and forced her eyes up to his. "Thank you."

"No problem." He stared at her a moment before backing up.

He put the first aid stuff away. "Since we're up here, would you like a tour of the house?"

A smile blossomed over her face. "I would! Is this your original family estate?"

She hopped down and followed him into the hallway.

"Yeah. They added on over the years, so the original home is the center section. We've kept it modernized."

Several guest rooms occupied the current floor of the house.

On the first floor, he showed her the music room complete with a baby grand piano and harp.

"Do you play the piano?"

"Sadly, no. I wish I could. Despite lessons, I'm hopeless."

Two sitting rooms filled with antique sofas, chairs, and portraits nestled against the den and kitchen. She studied the portraits, labeled with names of his ancestors.

Pointing at the original business genius Liam O'Hanrahan, she grinned. "I see the family resemblance. Especially to Declan."

"Don't mention it to him. He gets all irritated."

She laughed. "I thought he looked like a leprechaun."

"Leprechauns are a sore point at the moment."

"Why?"

"He had drawn one up for the new branding, but the panel didn't respond well."

"Poor Declan."

"Poor Declan, nothing." Brennan frowned. "It's his job to get this right. He's a big boy."

"I won't tease him about it." She tilted her head as she studied Brennan's face. A flash of stress and fatigue dampened his expression. "Has it been rough at work?"

"More pressure than usual, and I'm trying to do my part, but Dad's got me pulled in different directions doing his three-month project." He rubbed his neck. "I'll be glad when the three months are over, and I can focus again. He thinks this is helping me, but it's a distraction."

A hum of worry moved over her. They'd met at the same time as his three-month test and his company's rebranding. Not the greatest timing.

Shrugging, he shook it off, and his grin returned. "Follow me. I've still got the best to show you."

There were lots of bathrooms. She stepped into one and sighed, running a hand along the curved rim of the footed tub. "This is lovely."

He leaned against the door jamb watching her. "Shower or bath?"

A laugh bubbled up in her throat. "Shower. Baths are for fun and rare times I need to soak after an elaborate wedding."

The grin that stretched over his face made her flush. "I like showers, too." Stepping into the room, he smiled down at her. "We have so much in common."

She swatted his arm, seeing in his expression his teasing, and he laughed.

He led her to the front foyer and a set of grand double doors stretching from the floor to the ceiling.

"These rooms are the pride of the house." He turned the knobs and pushed the doors open to reveal the grand parlor in the center of the house, where grand balls would've been held.

Great columns split the room into halves. Brennan explained the original grand parlor had been two rooms with doors that opened to combine the rooms for dances and weddings.

She walked to the center, marveling at the thick carved moldings and chandeliers. The room had cheerful blue paint, not too bright but in line with the yellow kitchen and dark, red den. He watched her head swivel to take in all the features.

"Do you rent it out for weddings?"

"No, we keep the home private, but family friends and relatives have married here."

"I can imagine a grand ball with the women wearing period dresses and the men in tuxes. It's a beautiful room."

"We shouldn't let it go to waste."

He strode toward her and took her hand in his. He wrapped his other arm around her waist and smiled with mischief. "Let's dance."

She laughed as he twirled her around in a swift dance. He swung her out then back into his arms, and she gasped as he pulled her against his chest.

"You're beautiful, Freesia."

"Thank you."

Holding her tight, he slowed his movement until they were truly dancing around the room. He kept his gaze locked on hers as he dipped her then brought her back in a slow, confident move. When she stood face-to-face with him, she felt mesmerized by the desire in his expression.

"I'm going to kiss you now." He dipped his head and pressed his lips to hers in a sweet, light kiss. Tingles burst over her skin, and her heart soared as his arm tightened at her waist.

He pulled away enough to see into her face. "I've got all the new wing to show you."

"Ok." She could barely think over the sensations buzzing through her brain.

He held her hand as he pulled her from the room back into the foyer. She expected him to keep moving to the next wing, but a cheeky grin curled his lips.

"You know, while the grand ballroom may have been entertaining, the servants had their own ways of celebrating."

"What do you mean?" She didn't trust that mischievous sparkle in his eyes.

"Well, if you were a maid, and I were a footman..." He whipped open a door in the foyer. "I'd sneak you in here for our own private dance."

A giggle burst from her as he swung her into the dark space. "What is this?"

"The coat closet."

She giggled as he pulled her against him with an exaggerated growl. He kissed her cheek. Her arm went around his neck as he kissed her other cheek, her forehead, her eyes.

She guided his mouth to hers and met his lips with a warm melding of desire.

"Your kisses are addictive, Freesia." He kissed her again, but this next kiss deepened and sped with their passion. His hands gripped her waist, molded her against him. A smoldering heat built in her belly, wrapped her in warmth.

Breaking apart, he tightened his hold on her waist before stepping away from her.

"Brennan," she breathed, wishing he'd continue to kiss her, and shocked at her own desire.

"You're a lady." He opened the door and held her hand as he led her out to the sunlit foyer.

Her knees felt loose, like melting wax, and heated tingles still warmed her skin as he took her to the more modern east wing.

He showed her the movie theater. They had a movie theater in their house. She gaped at the room complete with red curtains framing a wide screen and legit theater seating.

"I will invite you for a movie one night, but I spend most of my time in Olde Towne at my apartment."

The house had a grand library and a study where Patrick did his office work. Bethany had her own private sitting areas.

Brennan took her through to the floor where his rooms were, plural. He had his own suite in the east side. He opened the door to his childhood bedroom with a flourish. "This is where I grew up."

She stepped inside. It had a rich earthiness in the greens and blues. A desk and a bed and bookshelf remained in the room. Standing at the window, she realized he had a balcony overlooking the garden.

"Did you do a lot of sneaking out?"

He had stood in the doorway with his hands in his pockets, watching her, but he joined her to look at the view.

A grin quirked his mouth. "I did some. Would you like to see the gardens?"

"You know I would."

He took her hand, careful of her scratches. "I'll show you the best way to sneak out."

She laughed as he pulled her back to the hall. They took the servant's stairs through the oldest section of the house to the servant's entrance that led to the back of the gardens.

"They would've had a kitchen garden here, and mom keeps some herbs, but it's been landscaped for the most part."

"It's lovely." Roses and wild weedy plants and groundcover cuddled against the brick path.

A gazebo nestled into a section of the garden beside a pond. He led her into the gazebo and stood with his arm around her waist as she took in the landscaped beauty all around them.

"What do you think of everything?"

"It's beautiful. Your family is easy going and fun."

"Did you feel comfortable?"

She could tell her answer mattered, and she spoke from her heart. "I did. I feel like I fit. What your family has is something I've missed since my parents divorced."

"Good." A relieved breath passed his lips. He pulled her close, and she rested her head against his chest.

They stayed wrapped in an embrace, easy with each other, until she drew back. "I should go."

He rubbed her back and smiled into her face. "Ok. I loved having you here today."

"I enjoyed every minute, except for my klutz."

Brennan laughed. "We were all relieved you were ok. How do you think I feel? I bring a girl home and she gets hurt." His expression grew serious again. "I don't want to sound like we're in middle school, but do you think we could make this thing between us official? Would you consider dating me exclusively?"

"Be my girlfriend check yes or no?" She grinned.

He looked embarrassed. "Something like that."

Reaching a hand around to the back of his head, she drew his mouth to hers for a light kiss. He tilted his head to take her mouth in a deeper, hungry demand. She reveled in the warmth of his breath and his body against hers. His response made her feel alive, sexy, thrilled.

Pulling back, he stared at her mouth. "You've got the sweetest lips I've ever tasted."

He dipped his head to take her lips again, teasing and tasting. Tingles rushed over her skin, and her fingers curled against the back of his neck.

She eased out of his kiss to look deep into his eyes. "I check yes."

His expression lit with joy, and he pulled her back to hold her tight. "When can I see you again?"

"Monday, I hope, at the shop. Would you like to come over Monday night after work? We can watch a movie." She smiled. "I'll make Italian."

"I'd like that." He took her hand and led her down the gazebo steps back to the garden path.

|  |

---|---|---

# Chapter 6

Brennan

Brennan had experienced the longest, worst Monday of his life. He'd run up and down stairs, lugging huge boxes, on the hottest spring day on record. He hadn't seen Freesia, either.

He grumbled to his dad on the phone after he dropped the van at the parking garage.

"Perhaps you'll appreciate how far you've come," Patrick responded. Humor tinged his tone, making Brennan grind his teeth. "Remember, our employees get paid a few hundred a week to do that every day."

"I know. I get it, but I don't do this every day. It's not my job."

"You're almost through it."

Brennan scoffed. "Hardly. I've got what? Six more weeks of this drudgery."

"It's only one day a week, son. Man up."

His father's words stalled him as he climbed into his jag. "You didn't just say 'man up'?"

Patrick laughed. "If you hadn't done this, you wouldn't have met Freesia."

"Actually, we met in my building when she delivered flowers."

"Oh. Well, you wouldn't have seen her again."

"True." It had taken him several weeks to get her to look him in the eye. A grin slipped over his face when he thought of her.

"How are things going?"

"Great. She loved the cookout, and she invited me over tonight."

"I knew you needed a real girl in your life. A real relationship."

"Don't go reserving a wedding venue. She's just starting to trust me. Our money intimidates her."

"Invite her to the annual party."

"I will."

"Do you have a date for the gala? It's coming up."

"I'll ask her." A yawn overtook Brennan. He felt physical exhaustion over every inch of his body. "I'm beat, Dad. I'll find a way to repay you for this torture."

Patrick's laugh vibrated through the phone. "Remember this the next time you lose focus during a meeting. Your life could be much worse."

"I know. I know. Later." He punched to disconnect and pulled the car from the parking garage.

He felt bone tired and wanted to go home, drink a beer, and crash. Freesia expected him and cooked for him. He felt tempted to cancel, but he'd worked too hard to get this far with her.

A sudden fear pierced his chest. Was he getting bored with her? Restless? He pushed the thought away. Impossible. Not with Freesia. Doubt pushed at the back of his mind. He'd won her attention, her interest. Had it been the hunt that challenged him? The thought of hurting her stabbed a hole in his heart and relieved the fear. Freesia mattered.

He rushed home, showered, threw on clothes, and called her on his way down in the elevator.

"We're still on?"

Her voice sounded cool when she said, "Sure, if you want to come."

He paused on his way out of the elevator. "What does that mean?" He didn't need her acting snippy on top of his day. What had he done wrong?

She sighed, and he knew something upset her. "Nothing. I'll see you in a few minutes."

When she hung up, he stared at his phone in shock. Frustration sped his steps and shortened his patience as he waited for the valet.

By the time he got to her house, he'd cooled, and worry won over his fatigue and irritation. Several cars sat in her drive, and he groaned. He thought it would be the two of them.

When she opened the door, he saw all the lights blazing and heard the mingling of several voices. She studied him as he studied her.

"I thought this would be me and you?"

A frost cooled her hazel eyes. "I would've told you, but you didn't come to the shop, and you didn't call."

"I had a terrible day. I'm exhausted." He tried to keep his voice level. "You could've called me."

"I didn't want to interrupt your work."

He took a deep breath. "Can I come in, or do you want to serve me on the porch?"

Her eyes narrowed. "You're a bear tonight. We should cancel and try again another night." She waved a hand toward her guests. "I've got people to eat what I cooked."

"I'm here even though I'm wiped out. For you."

"Just go, Brennan. We'll try again another night."

She closed the door in his face. No woman had ever closed the door in his face. His anger spiked. Before he thought out the action, his fist pounded against the door.

It whipped open, and her eyes blazed. "You're making a scene. We can reschedule."

"I don't want to reschedule. I want to see you."

Her expression softened. "You do?"

"Of course, I do. I wouldn't be here if I didn't. Can I come in?" Why did she think he didn't want to see her?

Stepping inside, he scanned the group. Rosemary gave him the evil eye.

The balding man beside her held out a hand. "I'm Rosemary's husband, Ron."

"Brennan."

Another couple stepped forward.

Freesia waved between them. "This is Brennan. Brennan, these are my dearest friends from college. Jayce and Emma."

"Hello, nice to meet you all." He shook hands and tried not to stare at Emma's blue hair.

Emma looked him up and down. "We've heard all about you."

Jayce gave him a piercing once-over study. His eyes were intense, a unique marbling of greenish blue that contrasted sharply with his darker skin tone. Brennan held his gaze man-to-man. Jayce grinned. "You've not lived until you've had Freesia's chicken parm."

"It smells delicious." Brennan's eyes met Freesia's, and he hoped she could read his apology.

Her face creased with an overly bright smile, and he knew she felt hurt. He didn't understand why not calling earlier mattered. He'd called from the apartment.

"Everything is ready."

She moved to take a tray of garlic bread from the oven.

He walked up beside her and wrapped his arm around her waist. "I'm sorry I didn't call. Dinner looks wonderful."

She remained stiff in his hold. "We can talk later."

A man's favorite words. He swallowed a grumble and sat at the table with her friends.

"It's good to meet people who've known Freesia for so long. College?"

Emma twinkled at him. She resembled an overwhelmingly cute fairy with a turned-up nose and freckles over her cheeks.

He glanced across the table to Freesia and felt his insides heat. She wore a tank top with thin straps that displayed her toned shoulders and arms. She had her blond hair pulled into a high ponytail, and he liked how it swung when she turned her head. The curled ends slipped across her shoulders, and he wondered what they'd feel like sweeping over his skin. His abs clenched.

Emma spoke, and he forced his attention to her words. "I could tell you about our wild days if we had any. Freesia has always been a sweetheart and shy."

Her words had Freesia pinking and looking at the table.

Jayce handed him a basket of garlic bread. He took a slice and passed it without taking his eyes off Freesia. He would've been a fool to miss her dinner. Guilt wrapped him in ice.

"Has she always been so talented?" He took a bite of her dinner and had to close his eyes. "This is amazing."

Her face lit. "Truly?"

"Oh, yes." He placed a hand flat over his chest. "The best I've ever had."

Jayce laughed, a full-bodied booming sound. "The food or Freesia?" He winked at her, making her blush.

Brennan didn't know how he felt about that wink. Only friends? He looked across at her and sent her a mischievous grin. "She tastes pretty good, too, but she's sweet like dessert."

The group erupted with awws and laughter, and he watched the last of the frost melt from her eyes until only the sea remained.

"To answer Brennan's question," Emma said. "She always loved flowers and making arrangements for her friends."

"We grew up in the shop," Rosemary said.

"She spent time creating crafty stuff and giving personalized gifts," Jayce said. He held up his wrist to display a braided leather wrist wrap a few inches wide. "She made me this for graduation, and I still wear it most days."

"So, how long have you and Emma been a couple?" asked Brennan.

Jayce's face blanched. "We aren't."

Emma giggled. "What made you think we're a couple?" She glanced over at Jayce. "He's like my annoying brother."

"I'm sorry," Brennan said. "I guess I assumed."

"No way. We're friends. The three of us." Jayce nodded at Freesia. "She and Emma were roommates, and I met Freesia in Art 101 to my eternal relief. She helped me study."

Emma snorted. "She took you to museums, so you could ogle the statues without looking like a perv."

"Ew, Emma," Freesia said.

Brennan realized she'd been quiet most of the dinner. So had Rosemary and her husband. Ron focused on his food. Rosemary sipped her wine and seemed at ease with the quiet. Was eating with her family always subdued?

"Rosemary," he said, "how long have you and Ron been married?"

Her eyes flashed to him in surprise. "Ten years. We were high school sweethearts."

"No kids?"

"We've got two girls, but they're with the sitter tonight."

Ron looked up from his plate long enough to mumble, "special dinner tonight."

Since he hadn't called, she hadn't known if he could make it or if something had happened at work. He met Freesia's eyes, again hoping she'd read his apology. They'd been official for two days, and he'd already screwed up. It had to be a record. Rosemary caught his eye and gave him a glare.

He managed to survive the rest of the evening hearing stories about the three kids from college and about Freesia growing up. The time passed well enough, but he couldn't wait to get her alone. Finally, the others left.

He helped her clean up, and she loaded the dishwasher. Her eyes darted to him then to the sink, and he bit down a sigh.

"Work was insane and exhausting. I should've taken a moment to call you. I thought I'd see you tonight, so it wouldn't matter."

"I understand." She leaned against the counter and picked up her glass of wine, sipped.

"Can we sit in the living room? You wanted to watch a movie?"

She glanced at the clock. "Ok."

He didn't like her quiet, and nerves made him tense.

"You like action and monster movies?" She sat next to him on the couch and flipped through her streaming selection. "What about this one?"

"Fine, if you'll enjoy it."

She shrugged.

He took her hand and laced their fingers. Relief poured over him when she didn't pull away. The movie started, and he slumped down to get comfortable on the couch.

Movement woke him. He blinked and stretched.

Freesia smiled next to him. She sat close, turned sideways on the couch so she could watch him.

"Did I fall asleep?"

"Before the third scene."

"I'm so sorry." What was wrong with him? He had to be the worst boyfriend in history.

"You're cute when you sleep." She smiled her natural, beautiful smile, and he relaxed.

"I enjoyed tonight. Your friends are fun." He reached out to trace the side of her face, and her eyes widened. "Can you tell me why you thought I didn't want to see you?"

Her expression clouded.

"When I said I wanted to see you--"

"I remember." She studied his face. "I'm waiting for the day you get tired of me or come to your senses and don't want me anymore."

"Freesia."

"I shouldn't go there. It's my issue. When you didn't come to the shop and didn't call..." She shrugged a shoulder. "I thought you might not come. When you grumped at the door, I thought you didn't want to be here."

"What can I say to make you believe me?"

"I think it will take time. Trust takes time."

"I messed up. You have the right to be upset. I told you I'd call, and I didn't. That's on me. But I want you." He inched closer to her and touched his mouth to hers.

She responded by snuggling into his chest and opening her mouth to him.

Freesia

His kiss rocked her senses. His tongue flicked over her bottom lip, tasting, and a burst of sensation overtook her. He rained small kisses over the corners and shape of her mouth and nibbled on her lips as if he couldn't get enough of her taste. She felt his breath hot against her lips, and it left her trembling, desperate for him to take her mouth. She ran her hands into his hair, pulling his mouth to hers. Need and attraction and desire flared inside her, pressing into her kiss, demanding release. He crushed his mouth to hers with hunger, and she kissed him back with abandon.

She drew back and rested against his chest, her breathing ragged against him. Her thoughts struggled to rise from the fog of passion wrapping her in heat.

"I should go," he said, his voice low and husky. "I've got a gala coming up that we attend every year. It's fundraising and charity in one, like a see and be seen advertisement for a good cause. Would you be my date?"

The internet pictures flashed through her mind. "It's fancy black tie?"

"Yeah, but that's part of the fun, getting dressed up, eating fancy food, drinking champagne."

"I don't know."

He grinned. "It's hosted at the Lowery Estate."

Excitement shot through her. "The garden home?"

His grin turned smug. "Yeah. Picture us strolling through the gardens."

She did, and she felt the wide smile that split her face. "I'd love to see them. They're private."

"I know." He raised her hand to kiss the back of it, and she nearly sighed aloud. "Dating me has its perks."

"Where should I get a dress?"

"I'll have Shannon call you if that's ok. She loves the gala. Maybe you could have a girl's day together."

"I'd like that." She tilted her head. "My schedule this week is packed. We've got a big wedding on Saturday."

"So, I won't be able to see you again for a week?"

She smiled at his woebegone expression. "We'll talk on the phone. If Shannon's free Sunday afternoon, that would work for me."

"I'll see what she says. If she agrees, can I give her your number?"

"Sure." She stretched, feeling aches from the day and tired from her nerves over the dinner.

"I'll go and let you sleep."

She walked with him to the door, feeling drowsy but high on the emotion of his kiss and company as well.

He kissed her sweet and fast. "I'll call you. I promise."

She watched him lope to his car and wave before pulling away. Her heart opened wide, and Brennan O'Hanrahan stepped right inside.

Flopping onto the couch, she called Rosemary.

Her sister picked up on the first ring. "What did he say? Did he grovel?"

Freesia smiled. "He did. It shouldn't have been such a big deal. He called from his apartment. He had a bad day and didn't realize it would matter."

"He loved your cooking."

A delighted laugh bubbled in her throat. "He did, didn't he? He's wonderful, Rosemary. Every time we're together, I feel wonderful."

"I'm happy for you. He disappointed me today."

"We'll have stuff to work through. It's early days."

"Be sure he learns. Don't let that handsome face and flashy smile turn your brain into mush. Make sure he's right for you."

"I can't believe he's interested in me."

"You're a treasure. Don't settle for him not treating you well."

"I won't."

"About tomorrow, did you check your orders?"

Freesia laughed. "I'll talk to you tomorrow morning. Life is not work."

"Fine. You don't have an ambitious bone in your body."

Freesia ignored the old argument and said goodnight. Making flower arrangements, using her creativity, satisfied her. The unique requests filled her need to expand her talents. She didn't feel pressure or drive to become rich or successful. Her work made her happy.

|  |

---|---|---

# Chapter 7

Brennan

Brennan glanced up from his papers when he heard a knock on his office door. His mother stood in the doorway with a wide smile, and he took a second to look at her. She had color in her cheeks and more energy since the chemo ended.

"Mom. Come in." He stood and kissed her cheek.

"Morning, son. I wanted to drop by for a chat." She sat on the loveseat and gazed out the window.

An unsettled feeling attacked his gut. "Something wrong?"

"No." She gave him a slight smile. "I wanted to talk to you about Freesia."

A warm emotion slipped over him, and he knew a sappy grin displayed on his face. "Isn't she great?"

His mother didn't smile. "She is lovely. I can understand why you enjoy her company."

"But?" He sat back; the smile gone.

"She's not accustomed to a lifestyle like ours. I'm concerned whether she'll be happy should your relationship progress. I'm concerned you won't get what you need in Freesia."

"What do you mean?" His voice growled, and he bit back his frustration. His parents never cared about his girlfriends before, and here both were crowding into his life.

Bethany frowned and smoothed a bony hand over her skirt. "I'm not a snob, you know that. We do lead a certain life with certain expectations for our family in the business world."

"Freesia is smart and creative. She helps her sister run a successful business." He picked up a pen and gripped it. "How does she not meet your expectations?" A strangled cough broke from him. "I didn't realize you had expectations, mother."

She cringed. "It would be best if your future wife understood your world. I'm not sure Freesia will be comfortable at formal events. I'm not sure she can handle press coverage. She's pretty, certainly, but she's not...show worthy."

Rage bellowed in his chest, and he had to close his eyes. This was his mother. His frail, sick mother he loved. When he felt he had control, he put the pen down and looked her in the eye.

"All those things you mentioned are a small part of my life. Freesia can learn. If she wants to. We're only beginning, mother, and you've wanted me to settle with someone for years. I don't understand how you can think those things matter more than her character or how she makes me feel. I'm falling in love with her."

Brennan froze when he heard the words come from his mouth. He was falling in love with Freesia, all the beautiful things he saw in her and admired.

Bethany stiffened. At that moment, he saw the belle, the cultured educated woman, the daughter of wealth and privilege. He'd never seen her as this woman. Shock iced over him.

"I believed all those things you told us growing up."

"What do you mean?"

"You taught us to respect all people even working people like our maid and valet. You taught us all people mattered that wealth or the size of a person's home did not the person make." He stood and buttoned his suit jacket. "I cannot explain the disappointment I feel in your character."

Her mouth gaped. "Brennan, how dare you--"

"No. How dare you. I am a grown man, and I will date and marry the woman of my choosing. If Freesia would have me, I would gain the prize. She has depth and heart I've not found in all the cultured, educated, belles or fashion models or businesswomen I've dated."

Standing by his mother's side, he gestured for her to stand and exit his office. Anger had him trembling. "You welcomed her into your home and treated her well. I cannot explain how shocked and disappointed I am that you were not sincere. I know it would devastate Freesia to hear your opinion of her."

Bethany stood and reached her hand toward his arm, but he clasped it gently and led her to the door.

"I only want you both to be happy. I am only concerned."

"I assured her she would be welcomed by my family."

"Brennan, you misunderstand. I did like her. I do."

"Did you do this to Shannon when she wanted to marry Lucas? A contractor?"

Pain pinched Bethany's face. "Maybe I should have. I know he always felt inferior, lacking, in what he could provide for her. Look at them now, Brennan."

"What of your grandchildren? Do you wish to undo their marriage? Are your grandchildren somehow not worthy of the great O'Hanrahan legacy because their father isn't wealthy? How did you put it? Show worthy?"

His mother began to cry, and guilt stabbed at him, but his disillusionment with his beloved parent proved stronger. His defense of Freesia proved stronger. He ushered her to the door and into the hall.

Matilda, his secretary, bounced to his side with a smile that fell when she saw Bethany's tears. "Oh, Mrs. O'Hanrahan."

"Matilda, please call an escort for my mother. She'll be leaving."

"Of-of course, Mr. O'Hanrahan." She scurried to her desk to make the call.

He took his mother's shoulders in his hands and turned her to face him. "I love you, mom, but you will not speak of this again. If you have concerns over Freesia's lack of knowledge, I would be grateful for your assistance in her training, but you will not speak against her. We may not progress to marriage, and this entire conversation may be premature. If we find ourselves in love and committed in the future, I would appreciate your support of my wife."

Bethany nodded her head, her face covered by a lace handkerchief.

He stared at the handkerchief. Doubt niggled in his belly like a dark monster. Would Freesia be unhappy with him? Were their worlds so different? Looking at his mother, he knew her opinion didn't matter. Only his and Freesia's feelings mattered in this personal decision, and he did not appreciate his mother's meddling.

When he saw her off, he returned to his office and stared at the paperwork on his desk. He shrugged, flinging the conversation into the recesses of his mind. If he were going to be head acting CEO, he had to get a grip.

Not fifteen minutes later, a knock sounded on his door. His father stood in the doorway with Amelia, the coordinator for the Lowery Gala.

"Good morning," he said, standing and holding his hand to her to shake.

She breezed into the room and took his hand in a firm grip. Her blond bob swung with the sharpness of her movements. He couldn't help but compare her thin frame covered in a dark business suit to Freesia's femininity and curvy softness.

"Brennan, it's good to see you," Amelia said, her voice brisk.

"You as well." He looked from her to his father.

"Amelia needs a florist for the gala."

Surprise had Brennan's eyebrows rising. "So close to the event?"

Amelia frowned, and a crease appeared between her brows. "Our usual florist canceled on us unexpectedly, and Patrick has assured me you know of someone."

"I do, but I have to check with her schedule. I can't say she'd want me to advertise for her." He remembered offering her card to the librarian. How would she react if he offered her information to the Lowery Gala?

"Would you let me know today? It's an Alice in Wonderland theme, and we're looking for something creative and unique."

Brennan's smile flashed over his face. "That wouldn't be a problem for her, I assure you. I know she has a large wedding this weekend. I can't make any promises on her behalf, but I will talk to her and call you this afternoon."

Amelia handed him her card. "She can call me directly if she's interested."

He nodded.

Amelia stood, smoothed her pencil skirt, and whisked out of the room leaving a breeze in her wake.

Patrick chuckled. "That woman's a tiger. Do you think Freesia will accept the job?"

"I hope so. It would be an excellent business opportunity for them." Brennan eyed his father. "Did you know mom came to chat?"

"No." Patrick eyed him. "You don't look pleased."

"She didn't have much good to say about Freesia."

His father's eyebrows shot upward. "What could she have against the girl?"

Brennan felt himself relax. "She feels Freesia won't be the showpiece we need for the business aspect of our life."

Anger shifted over Patrick's face. "Whether you see Freesia or marry the girl, is your business."

"I know. I'm shocked about mom's attitude. She acted...snobbish."

Patrick shook his head. "It's all this with Lucas and Shannon."

"Ah. She did mention them."

"Don't you worry about it."

"I won't, but if mom is upset later, you understand."

His father nodded. "You need to make sure Freesia understands what being in your life would require. You have to be fair to the girl."

"I will be. It's not like we're royalty."

A laugh boomed from his father. "We're close, son. To a real girl like Freesia, we're close."

Brennan rolled his eyes.

"You handle most of the PR around here, and you need to be straight with her."

"I understand." Brennan said the words, but doubt flicked over him. He'd never been serious enough about a girl to consider what his job would require of her. They didn't do interviews often. They made appearances a few times a year. It made the times they did more important.

"Let me call her for Amelia. See you later."

His father left, and Brennan picked up the phone, thinking about what he'd say. She shouldn't pass on the opportunity, but he didn't get the sense ambition motivated her.

Freesia

Freesia listened to Brennan with growing discomfort. "I understand what a great opportunity that would be. It sounds like a huge job in a short amount of time, and we're already swamped with the wedding. I don't know what flowers we'd have in time for the event."

"Would you think about it and talk it over with Rosemary? If you're interested, this is Amelia's number."

Freesia scribbled the name and number on a pad. Rosemary eyeballed her from across the room as she put together an arrangement.

"Yes, Brennan. I understand how big this is. The event of the year." She laughed a little.

Rosemary's eyes grew round, and she mouthed, "what?"

"Let me call you back. In a few minutes."

As soon as she hung up, Rosemary appeared at her side.

"The Lowery Gala, remember the event Brennan invited me to. Well, they need a florist for their Alice in Wonderland theme."

Rosemary jumped up and down and squealed. "Yes! Tell them yes!"

"It's only two weeks away."

A frown pulled on Rosemary's face. "We'll call in the family. Ron and the kids. Mom will help us. We'll hire help. We're not turning down this opportunity."

"Ok." Freesia grinned at her sister's excitement. "Do you think it will be strange that I'm the florist and a guest?"

"Didn't he say the event is an advertising business thing?"

"Yeah, but they don't do the work. They're not the caterers."

Rosemary waved a hand. "Don't worry about it. Enjoy it. How often have you gotten to do a formal? Think of the gardens."

Excitement danced through Freesia. "You're right. The gardens alone are worth it. Even if people look down on me."

"They won't. You don't have to tell anyone anything you don't want to. Let them admire your work and wonder about it while you watch."

"That's a good idea."

"See, I'm good for you." Rosemary hugged her and bounced. "I can't believe we're doing the Lowery Garden Home Gala!"

Freesia laughed and called Brennan.

"We'll do it. Yes. Rosemary's thrilled. You should see her jumping around and screaming."

When she hung up, she thought about the relief she heard in Brennan's voice. Her taking this job and the boost it would give their business mattered to him.

She called the Amelia lady.

"Amelia Bungart."

"Um. Hi, I'm Freesia with Olde Towne's floral shop, Petals. We'd love to do the gala night."

"Thank you! I can't tell you what a nightmare I've had over this."

"It's themed?"

"Yes, but not obvious. We want the idea and the fun of Alice in Wonderland without the Cheshire cat or the Mad Hatter."

"Good. Classy. Colors?"

Freesia talked over the theme, colors, room layouts and paint colors with Amelia. She always had more questions than the customer expected. Rosemary listened and made notes for her to ask for details.

They came to an agreement on arrangements that would hang from the ceiling over some tables and centerpieces for the dining tables. They discussed standing arrangements and cascades for the balconies and steps on the porches of the home. It would be gorgeous and fun, and Freesia felt her creative ideas sparking.

Rosemary's eyes danced at Freesia when she hung up. "You're going to kill this, I can tell."

"This will be fun. Truly enjoyable."

"You have to plan the flowers and your time wisely."

"I know. I won't have much time for Brennan." She hadn't seen him in a day, and she missed him.

Her phone rang, and an unfamiliar number flashed on the screen. "Hello?"

"Hi, Freesia? This is Shannon. Brennan told me you're doing the gala. Let me pamper you for a day to get ready. Brennan won't know what hit him."

"I'd love that. Is Sunday afternoon good?"

"Perfect. I'll have Lucas watch the kids."

Freesia felt her life expanding and coming together at the same time.

Brennan called her every evening. Some nights she heard the fatigue in his voice. Other nights she could barely move from all the work preparing for the wedding plus the usual orders the shop had. They continued their question game to her delight.

Saturday night she was dead on her feet following the setup for the wedding, but satisfaction always followed a good show.

When she arrived home, a wrapped basket of goodies waited for her at the door. She lugged it inside and hefted it onto the kitchen table. Good grief, what a lot of chocolate, she thought as she unwrapped the basket. She took the card and read, "I'm thinking of you and missing your sweet kiss. XXOX Brennan".

"He's a sweetheart," Freesia said aloud.

The basket overflowed with gourmet chocolates she'd never heard of and chocolate-covered cherries and boxes of variety samplers. She found her favorites among the fancy bars and treats, evidence he put thought into the collection. A bottle of wine was a nice touch. She imagined a romantic evening, enjoying the treats together.

The chocolate-covered cherries brought back memories of her grandmother. Gran had always stashed chocolates in the fridge. Eating a cherry became one of the first things Freesia did on her visits to Gran's house. Brennan remembering the story touched her heart.

She called him and squealed with delight over her gift.

The warmth of his voice revealed how much he enjoyed making her happy. "You're welcome. I'm glad you liked the surprise. How did the wedding go?"

She told him all about the evening.

"Pizza or spaghetti?" he asked.

"What kind of question is that? Shouldn't it be pizza or wings?"

"Oh, you're a wings girl."

She giggled. "I am."

"Hot sauce or BBQ?"

"Honey mustard."

"You are so a girl."

She laughed. "You?"

"I love both pizza and spaghetti. If it's got pasta or bread and red sauce, I'm all over it."

"Are you sure you're Irish not Italian?"

"I've got some Italian in here someplace I'm sure."

"How's your mom?"

He went quiet, and her nerves perked.

"Brennan?"

"She's fine. Her appetite is back. She's gaining weight. Her hair's growing in."

"Good." What had that pause been about?

"I want to get your dress for the gala."

"No, I can do it. That's too much."

"I want Shannon to take you to the best places. Your work will shine, and I want you to shine with it. Let me give you a gift."

She could tell it mattered, so she accepted. "Thank you. That's generous."

"Not a problem. I want to spoil you."

"Being with you feels like a gift."

A silent pause filled the air. Embarrassment swept over her. Why had she said that?

"I feel the same when I'm with you." His voice had dropped to a low, deep tone full of emotion.

Another pause increased her heart rate.

"Brennan?"

"Yeah?"

"I really like you. Us."

"Me, too." He cleared his throat. "I want you to know, there could be some snobs at this gala. Don't let them get you down. I-I know you can handle anything, anyone. I'm proud of you."

"Thanks. That means a lot." Fear snarled in her chest. Why did he need to reassure her? She thought his business world may be worse than she'd imagined. "Is everything ok?"

"Of course."

"Ok."

"I can be at the gala early to help you set up if you'd like. I want to see you at work."

A happy grin flared. "I'd love that."

"Good. I can go over some talking points while we're at it."

"Talking points?"

"Things to discuss with my business associates and what to share about your business."

"Can't we just eat and drink Champagne and explore the gardens?"

He turned quiet. Too quiet. "That's part of the night. Another part is schmoozing and getting to know the competition, advertising."

She couldn't stop a laugh. "Do you think there will be other florists there as guests?"

"No, but it's a part of my life. It's part of being with me."

"Oh." Oh. The snarling fear clutched her chest, making her ache with nerves. "That sounds fun."

"It can be. I'll help you."

"I'm going to need it." Her voice dropped with dread.

"Listen to me," he said, his voice getting louder, sharper. "You'll do fine. We'll have a good time, and you'll do fine."

"Yes, sir."

"Freesia. I want you to enjoy it."

"I understand."

They hung up, and heavy worry fell over her. She tried to let it go. He'd help her and be at her side. How hard could it be to talk to his associates?

She'd focus on the day with Shannon.

Shannon waved to Freesia from a patio table outside the restaurant. Brennan's sister looked like a feminine version of him. She had his sandy hair that caught the sunlight and glistened like wheat and his wide, friendly smile. Happiness shone from her big, brown eyes.

"Thank goodness for you!" she said with a cheerful burst. "I have a whole afternoon free."

"Your kids are great."

"You've seen the baby sleeping and my son playing. I love them to bits, but they have their moments. An afternoon to be me and not mom is a wonderful thing."

"I understand." Freesia read over the menu. "I remember when Rosemary, my sister, had her two girls. She loved it when I took them out to do the cool aunt stuff."

"It's just you and Rosemary?"

"We have a brother, but he lives across the country. I can't get over how much you and Brennan favor."

"I know. Declan doesn't quite go with the rest of us. He's the baby, and we used to tell him we bought him from a catalog."

"No!" Freesia laughed.

"We did. He believed us for a minute."

Shannon was easy to talk to, and Freesia felt they'd be good friends. Before she knew it, they had finished their lunch.

"Did you want dessert?" Shannon asked.

"Goodness, no. Brennan sent me a ginormous basket of chocolates." Freesia rubbed her belly. "I'm stuffed and sugared out."

"Well, let's go. I've got the perfect place to take you."

As they walked down the sidewalk, Freesia felt her nerves returning. "I've never bought a dress from these upscale stores."

"Oh, don't worry. I'll whisk you into a changing room. Let me and the clerks do all the work. Brennan told me this is on him, so no worrying." Her smile softened, and she looped her arm through Freesia's arm. "He's crazy about you."

"Is he?"

"Now, you know it. What about what we discussed? You feel like bolting on him, or are you feeling ok with the relationship?"

"I'm crazy about him." Freesia met Shannon's gaze. "I'm more impressed with him every day. We've had some things to work out, and I'm sure we will in the future, but he's amazing."

"What's so amazing? He is my brother, you know, so you need to convince me."

"He's humble. I'm intimidated by your lifestyle. He sincerely doesn't care about the material things. That's impressive. Brennan has a sweetness and a charm. When he does things for me, it's because he's moved to show how he feels, and he wants to make me happy. He doesn't do things to impress me or show his money. Our first date he took me to the pier. Our second he took me to a cookout in your backyard. Our third he ate at my kitchen table with my friends and fell asleep on my couch in front of the TV. He is gorgeous and rich and successful, but you'd never know it to talk to him or spend time with him."

"Yep, you're crazy about him."

"I like how he treats other people with dignity and respect. When we first met, he could've yelled at me, blamed me for the mess, demanded I replace the flowers. His kindness blew me away from the first moment. And his smile. He makes me feel things I've never felt before."

Freesia felt a blush, and Shannon laughed.

"You can stop there."

"How are things with you and Lucas? Can I ask?"

Shannon's face hardened with grief and pain. "We're stalled in this horrible mess."

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked."

"No, I need to talk about it. I've not told my family what's wrong. I don't want them to be angry at Lucas in case it works out."

"What happened?"

"He cheated on me."

"No!" Freesia stopped moving and jerked Shannon to a stop. "I don't believe it."

Shannon laughed a choked half-sob. "I don't either. I love him, so much."

"But, why? I mean...I don't know what I mean. I can't believe it. I saw the way he looks at you. That man is completely in love with you and in agony. I saw the agony on his face."

"Really?" Shannon wiped a tear from the outside corner of her eye. "You saw that?"

"It's sometimes easier to see things from the outside looking in. I don't know you well. Why do you think he cheated?"

"I received pictures. A manila envelope with pictures in it."

"From whom? In the mail?"

"No. I found it under the wipers on my car one day. I have no idea who sent them."

"Are they...what kind of pictures?" Freesia didn't know why, how, she asked such personal questions, but the pain on Shannon's face impelled her to understand. That man loved her and his kids. No way did he cheat. It didn't make sense.

"He's kissing a woman outside a restaurant and outside his office and outside a construction site. He's a contractor always driving somewhere and meeting somewhere, always off, out. I trusted him."

"What did he say when you showed him?"

"Oh, he denied it." Bitterness tinged Shannon's voice. "He got angry at me for believing it. Pictures, Freesia. He can't argue about pictures."

"Who's the woman?"

"I don't know. He swears he's never seen her before." She started to march down the sidewalk. "Pictures, Freesia!"

Freesia trotted to catch up. "Pictures can be altered, manipulated. You can't trust pictures."

Shannon froze. "That's why I haven't moved forward to leave him, to divorce him. My heart denies what my eyes see, but I can't know. How can I know?"

"I'm sorry." Freesia hugged her right there on the sidewalk with people walking past. She held her new friend and let her cry.

"What if he got tired of me being fat and blimpy after the baby and gave in to some beautiful, sexy woman? Maybe he loves me and regrets it, but what if it happened? I can't be with him if I can't trust him. If he could cheat on me, he doesn't love me. Not enough."

"I understand. I can't say that's not possible, but I can't see Lucas doing that to you. Brennan told me how in love you'd been, how if any couple could make it last forever, you could."

Shannon gave Freesia a quivery smile and sniffled. "That Brennan is a sweetie."

"He is." Freesia smiled. "He's smart, too. I suggest you find a way to prove if the pictures are real or fake. Find out where they came from. Someone could be doing this to hurt you, to destroy your marriage. Besides, you're beautiful and thin. Most women who just had a baby probably want to stab you in the eye."

A weak laugh escaped Shannon, and she hugged Freesia. "I'm so glad Brennan met you and introduced me. Now, let me do something for you, sweet friend."

The first shop threatened to overwhelm Freesia. It smelled expensive. The clerks all looked her up and down in her jeans and blouse.

Shannon took over, and Freesia rode the wave.

"We need a formal, something comfortable with decent coverage." Shannon eyed Freesia's blond hair and hazel eyes. "Something in blue."

She whisked Freesia into a dressing room.

Freesia expected a sterile gray closet. She turned around to see a couch, vanity with stool, chandelier overhead, and multiple free-standing mirrors for a full view of her ordinary appearance. Stepping closer, Freesia studied her reflection. An ordinary face stared back, nothing remarkable or gross. Freesia knew people considered her to be pretty. Still, she wasn't anything extraordinary especially in the comfortable jeans and tops she preferred.

Brennan sounded nervous about the gala. He acted nervous about how well she'd do at the gala, and that terrified Freesia.

Shannon whipped back the curtain and handed her several dresses in different shades of color. "All of these are lovely. Let's see them."

Freesia tried them on and walked out to show Shannon.

"Nice, but you can do better."

"Pretty, but I don't like the low back."

"Oh, very flattering. What do you think?"

Freesia shrugged. "It's not speaking to me."

Shannon laughed and shooed her back inside.

When Freesia tried on the next dress, she knew she'd found the one. It shimmered a light blue that brought out the blue shades in her eyes and complimented her light skin. The floor-length gown had a split to just above her knee and no straps. The empire waist flattered her silhouette and made her feel dainty and regal.

Shannon's hand covered her mouth. "You look feminine and lovely. It suits your quiet personality and hints at the woman underneath. Do you like it?"

"I love it." Freesia whirled a bit in the mirrors. "It's perfect."

Shannon squealed. "Good! Let's buy it and move on to your shoes. We've also got a spa hour planned with mani-pedis and a massage."

"That's too much," Freesia protested.

"Nonsense."

"If I get my nails done, they won't last. I've got all the arrangements to do for the gala."

"It'll be fine. Don't worry, just enjoy the afternoon."

Freesia looked at her friend's face and stopped her arguing. After everything Shannon had been through, still endured, she deserved all the pampering, and Freesia wouldn't ruin it for her. "You're right. It sounds divine. I'll change."

On their way to the shoe store, Freesia and Shannon talked about Brennan and the three of them growing up and Freesia's creative projects.

An idea occurred to her. "You should hire a detective."

"Like a private investigator? Is there really such a thing?"

Freesia shrugged. "I don't know. But you could use one to find out who sent you those pictures."

Shannon walked on with a thoughtful expression.

|  |

---|---|---

# Chapter 8

Brennan

"I just pulled up," Brennan spoke into the phone. "I'll be inside in a few minutes."

A smile near cracked his face in two. He'd see her for the first time in days. Talking on the phone helped them get closer, but he couldn't kiss her or see her eyes light up. He couldn't hold her hand or touch her hair in a face-to-face chat. He'd been tempted to visit her after work, but she'd worked till late into the night every day that week.

The Lowery Estate boasted the largest private garden in the state. The sprawling mansion made his family estate look like the caretaker cottage. Maybe Freesia wouldn't be so intimidated by his home after this. Everything was relative in the world of billionaire business.

He handed his keys to the valet all dressed up in a red uniform and white gloves. Brennan had come early to see Freesia setting up. He wanted to view the arrangements in private before all the guests hogged them and their beautiful designer.

Entering the banquet room, he found Freesia dressed in jeans and blouse with her apron tied at her waist. She perched on a stepladder, directing three assistants in hanging one of the biggest flower arrangements he'd ever seen over a bar. The colors ranged from yellow to deep red and were those black roses? The flowers were spectacular.

She hadn't seen him, so he took a minute to watch her and the graceful way she gestured and moved her head. Tendrils of hair had escaped her ponytail to frame her beautiful face. The desire to hold her, kiss her, overwhelmed him.

Striding to her side, he pulled her against him and kissed her mouth. He'd surprised her, but after a second she relaxed and molded herself against him, her hands clutching his shoulders.

"I've missed you," he whispered against her lips before kissing her again. She tasted like watermelon lip gloss and chocolate. He tried to control his kiss and not devour her with all the people watching, but her soft lips and the way she responded, pressing her mouth against his as if she'd missed him, too, proved hard to resist.

When she pushed against his shoulders, he released her. "Brennan," she breathed, her eyes foggy with desire.

He wanted to kiss her again. He wanted to kiss her forever. "Did you miss me?"

She smiled, a shy tilt of her lips. "Yes. Every minute."

"Good." He loosened his hold on her waist. "The flowers are stunning. Are those roses black?"

Laughing, she took his hand and led him through the banquet hall to show him each piece.

Rosemary worked on the far side of the room, setting up centerpieces with two assistants. She noticed him and waved but focused on her duties. Brennan felt for her assistants as her chattering voice carried across to his ears.

Freesia guided him onto the patio to see the arrangements cascading from the balconies and decorating the steps to the garden walk.

Reentering the hall, she took a moment to appraise the progress. "We're almost finished. I've got to hurry, so I can freshen up and change."

He snagged her and cupped her waist. "Have I told you how cute you are in that apron?"

She giggled but pushed against his hands. "Thank you. I've got to finish, now."

He followed her like a puppy while she hung the last large pieces from ceiling mounts. When she finished, she turned to him with a serious expression.

His heartbeat studded his chest. "Everything ok?"

"Listen," she said. "I don't want you to advertise that I'm the florist."

He felt his brow furrow and slipped his hands into his pockets. "I don't understand."

"Amelia has my business cards to hand out if anyone asks about the arrangements, but I don't want guests to know your date is the florist. I want to enjoy the night with you as your date." She grinned as she looked him over and stepped closer to run her hands over his tux lapels. "You're gorgeous, you know. I forgot to mention that with all the activity."

He grinned. "Thanks."

She took a deep breath, serious again. "I'm not ambitious. I'm not out to make a million dollars. So, I'd like the business we get from tonight to come naturally."

With a glance around the room, he said, "I don't think that will be a problem."

"Exactly." Her hands slid up his chest to trace the breadth of his shoulders.

His abs tightened with her touch. Did she realize she caressed him in front of people? He had a difficult time remembering they had an audience of her sister and assistants.

"I will talk about you, your business, anything you want."

"I respect your feelings." He reached for her waist, but she pulled away.

"Thank you. I've got to change." She smiled as she turned and walked away.

He sighed. Freesia had no idea how sexy she looked.

Guests began to arrive, and Amelia found him.

She praised Rosemary and Freesia's work. "I'm thinking of keeping them on permanently."

He nodded. "You can't go wrong with Freesia, and Rosemary has a good head for business."

Declan came in with a girl on his arm. He excused himself from Amelia to greet his sibling. He grinned at Declan's date.

"Hey, Brennan. This is Tabbi."

"Nice to meet you."

She giggled up at him. "Hiya."

Brennan glanced at Declan and raised an eyebrow. He didn't go for the giggly type. Judging by her slinky dress and bone-thin figure, she worked as a model. Lovely and fun but not Declan's type.

"Would you like a drink?" Declan asked her, and she giggled and moved toward the bar. He glanced at Brennan's surprised face. "I had to have a date for this thing, and I had short notice. Dad bowed out, but he didn't want to insult the Lowerys with unused tickets."

"Is mom all right?"

"She felt tired. He wanted to stay with her." Declan's eyes widened. "Is that Freesia?"

Brennan turned to look in the same direction, and the breath froze in his lungs. She walked toward him in a soft blue dress that clung to her breasts but bared her shoulders. When she moved, the dress hinted at the shape of her hips swaying under the fabric. He wanted to feel her, to run his hands over her hips, to pull her against him and devour her mouth.

Declan's low whistle jolted Brennan from his stare. Her eyes darted to Declan, him, the ground, and back to him.

"Do I look all right?" She fingered her hair that she'd parted on the side and released to fall against her skin in soft curls.

He reached out and ran a hand down one of her shoulders. She felt amazing, warm and silky. "You're stunning, Freesia. I don't have the words."

"Truly?" Her eyes lifted to his, round and wide and beautiful.

He took her elbow to pull her closer and whispered into her ear. "You steal my breath. I want to kiss you all over. I want to trace your shape. Yes, you're truly stunning."

She sighed and shivered. "Thank you."

Declan cleared his throat. Brennan straightened to see one of their associates approaching.

"O'Hanrahan brothers. How are you tonight? How're Patrick and Bethany?"

Declan shook his hand. "Paul Bonderville, how good to see you. We're doing well."

Brennan shook his hand then placed a hand on Freesia's lower back. She trembled. He hoped his touch affected her not nerves.

Paul said, "I hear you're rebranding. Let us know if we can help on the legal side."

"Will do. We're not to that point yet," Declan said, his face graying.

"Having trouble?" Paul asked.

"We're reviewing a series of options," Brennan said with a flash of his smile. "Paul, this is my girlfriend Freesia."

He eyed Freesia with a blue stare and winked. "Nice to meet you. You're putting up with this O'Hanrahan?"

She smiled. "He's a charmer."

Paul laughed. "What do you think of the decorations tonight? My wife keeps going on about the flowers."

Freesia's cheeks pinked. "I hope she likes them."

"She loves them. Can't get over how unique they are."

"That's so nice." Freesia looked at Brennan for help.

If she told Paul she designed the arrangements, it would be easier for her, but he'd abide by her wishes. She didn't want to praise her own work, silly girl.

"Amelia hired a new florist this year. Perhaps she could give your wife their information," he said.

"Good idea. I'll tell the wife."

Paul moved on, and they all sighed with relief. Declan appeared thunderous.

"Our rebranding may be the topic of the night, Declan. Spin it," Brennan said. "And the flowers." He gave Freesia a look, and she frowned at him.

She looked at Declan. "Are you still having trouble?"

He shrugged. "We've tried a couple different logos and images. The panels didn't respond well to a leprechaun, so we tried something more modern with less detail, but they didn't respond to that either."

She chewed her lip and tilted her head in thought. Brennan grinned. She was adorable.

"You want to do something Irish?"

Declan nodded. "It's a family business, which makes us stand out in this market."

"What about a family coat of arms? Something not so Irish in general but more O'Hanrahan."

Brennan swung to look at her at the same time as Declan.

His brother beamed at Freesia. "That's the best idea I've heard yet." He clapped Brennan on the back. "Why didn't we think of that?"

"I had a good idea?"

Declan laughed, throwing his head back and letting loose. "You just saved my skin. I think that's perfect." He cocked his head with the faraway look he got when he created art in his head. "I can see it. I feel it."

Freesia's face relaxed into a warm smile. "Brennan told me you're an artist."

Declan shrugged. "I try."

Brennan snorted. "He's being humble. His art--"

His brother socked him in the shoulder. "Shut up, Brennan."

Freesia asked, "what? I'm missing something."

"Nothing," Declan said with a glare at him. "I work in marketing for the company. I create ads and draw up campaigns." He looked around. "I forgot about Tabbi. I better go find her."

Declan rushed off, leaving Brennan with Freesia.

He rubbed his hand up and down her back. "Would you like to see the gardens?"

A smile lit her face. "Yes, let's. I'd like a drink, too."

They moved toward the patio.

"Are you going to go over talking points with me?" she asked him.

"Sure. If people ask me questions, follow my lead. Be open and friendly, but don't offer information I haven't already mentioned. It's fine to talk about my parents and siblings, but nothing too personal like my mother's illness or Shannon and Lucas. I think you get that."

She nodded and accepted a flute of champagne from a passing waiter. Passing onto the patio, they meandered along the pathway toward the gardens.

"If they want to discuss our business rebranding, that's fine, but don't leave anyone the impression we're struggling with it. That would make us look weak, and businesses never want to look weak."

"I understand."

"To make us look good, you can mention new projects, incentives, any branching out we're doing."

"I don't know enough to talk about those things."

He reached out to take her hand. "I'll have to bring you to the office and show you around. What's your schedule for the week?"

She stopped to study a collection of roses. "We have a few orders for a baby shower, but it's a light week. We could use a break."

"Would you like to come out on Wednesday around three? I'll take you to dinner after."

Stopping to feel a fern-like bushy plant, she turned her face toward him. "I'd love that. Could I come earlier around lunch? We could picnic on the beach." A smile teased her lips. "I have chocolate and wine to make a delicious picnic."

"It's a date." He grinned. "We could go back to my place, watch a movie, and do dinner."

"You want to spend the entire afternoon and evening with me?"

"I wish I could spend the whole day."

Coming back to his side, she took his hand, initiating their connection. He hoped it meant she had progressed in her trust. He was falling hard and fast, and he didn't want to be alone in the fall.

Lacing their fingers, he led her further down the path.

"What do you think of the gardens?"

They entered an oriental garden with dripping red maples and willow trees. A creek twisted around oriental-style garden sheds. The path followed the creek and led to an arched bridge high above the garden.

"They're peaceful and quiet, soothing. The roses were lovely, a variety I've not seen before. These maples are colorful, whimsical, and mysterious. I've always appreciated red maples."

He pulled her beside him to the top of the arched bridge.

Wrapping her in his arms, he stared into her sea-stormed eyes. "You're so beautiful," he whispered and trailed a hand over her cheek.

"Thank you." She snuggled against him and laid her head on his chest. Whenever she did that, it made him feel strong, protective, trusted.

He gazed over the garden from their perch and marveled at the acres and acres of greenery and trees. "It is amazing, how they've landscaped all of these acres."

"We could spend days exploring and not see every nook and cranny." She smiled up at him. "The Secret Garden was my favorite book growing up."

"I can see that."

"The idea of finding a hidden door and key, the whole story, speaks to me. The mystery, the adventure."

He chuckled and allowed himself to brush his fingers over her hair, just once. He didn't want to mess it up, and the temptation to kiss her strengthened if he touched her.

More guests filled the garden, and he sighed. "We've got to move on, mingle, and I want you to see more of the garden."

She took his hand again as they walked back to the path. Every fiber of his being wanted to touch her, feel her soft skin, kiss her lips. He tried to focus on the garden, the flowers, but he burned with her closeness. He'd have to find a way when they got back inside, some dark corner or room, so he could have her mouth.

Freesia

The softness of evening filled the garden with tranquil beauty. Fairy lights flicked on at dusk to light the trees and pathways. The romance surrounding her, and Brennan walking at her side, affected her with a deep, otherworld happiness.

They came upon an arbor leading to a square with a fountain, and he pulled her into the more private nook. Anticipation flushed her skin as he took her shoulders in his warm hands and turned her to face him. Passion burned in his gaze, and he dipped his head to kiss her bottom lip.

"Do you feel it?" he whispered into the slight space between them.

She leaned forward to close the distance and pressed her mouth to his, parted her lips to accept his deepening the kiss.

"Well, who do we have here?" asked a deep, sarcastic voice.

She reeled as Brennan tore from her. A tall, slender man with slick, black hair approached them. The way he moved suggested he'd had a few drinks already, and he held another in his hand.

Brennan stepped away but held her hand. "Guy LaRose."

An uneasy feeling coursed through Freesia as the man leered at her.

"Looks like you got yourself a tasty dish, O'Hanrahan."

Brennan placed a reassuring hand on her back. "You're drunk, LaRose. Why don't you head back to the gardens? We're going inside."

"You weren't going inside when I found you."

"Goodnight, LaRose."

Brennan wrapped his arm tight around her waist and swept her from the nook to the main path and back to the house. She felt him trembling, and his face blazed with anger.

Once they were inside, he faced the windows and rubbed the back of his neck, trying to get himself under control. She'd never seen him so upset.

"Who is LaRose?"

"A snake, a lawyer. He used to work for us."

"What did he do?"

"He made fraudulent deals behind our backs, as if on behalf of the company. We caught him, but we couldn't prove all of it, not enough for a legal case. A public trial would harm the company more than help. The publicity would damage our image. He's not worth it. We fired him and stopped the deals. He's one reason we're rebranding. It needed to be done anyway, but we don't want to be tied to anything that might come up later. We don't want our image tied to anything that man may have done."

"I see."

"We ruined him. He can't get work in this town probably this state. He'll have to start over with his career."

"I wish you could have him disbarred."

"We may still look into that. We're hiring a team of lawyers, starting fresh."

She frowned. "When did this start?"

He fisted his hands. "Several months ago."

Facing her, his expression turned fierce. "Don't go near him alone. He can't be trusted."

Remembering how he'd leered at her, she shivered. "I won't."

She took Brennan's hand. "Introduce me to some of your friends, business associates."

He smiled. "Let's go."

They worked the room. Brennan introduced her to many people important in his life, and she tried to be charming and helpful in conversation.

Several people commented on the flowers and the beauty of the arrangements. Brennan directed them to Amelia for more information. She knew he thought she passed on an opportunity, but the night focused on his business and the charity work the Lowery Estate supported.

The dinner tasted as delicious as she'd hoped, and they sat by an elderly couple who made delightful conversation about many topics. Freesia felt herself relax with them and enjoy her time with Brennan.

She could do this, she thought. The night had gone well. She hadn't embarrassed him or said anything stupid. She hadn't knocked anything over or fallen on her face.

After dinner, a band played, and couples took to the ballroom. Brennan grinned and led her into the fancy formal ballroom with multiple chandeliers.

Sweeping her into his arms, he danced her around the couples.

"I didn't realize our dance at your house would be practice," she said.

He laughed. "Things have a way of coming together." He pulled her closer and whispered against her ear, "unfortunately, I can't kiss you breathless here." The warmth of his breath tickled her ear and neck making her shiver.

After dancing multiple times, fast and slow, she felt flushed and overheated.

Touching his arm, she whispered, "I need a break. Be right back."

He nodded, and she slipped out of his arms.

Declan and his date waved goodbye to her from the doorway as they headed out. She waved back with a smile. He looked relieved to be leaving. She slipped down the hall toward the restrooms.

Catching her reflection in the full-length wall mirror, she grinned. A sheen of perspiration dewed her flushed skin. Had she ever been this happy? Being in Brennan's arms made her dizzy and warm and giddy.

On her way back to the ballroom, a man stepped into her path. LaRose. His leer made her skin crawl, and she turned her body away to step past him.

LaRose reached out and grabbed her arm. He leaned toward her, so close his alcohol-tinged breath wafted across her cheek. "I just want a taste."

She ripped herself away from him. "Don't touch me."

Bursting into the ballroom, she searched for Brennan. She started in his direction as fast as she could go without drawing attention to herself. A waiter passed her, and she tried to take a flute of Champagne. Her hand shook, and it slipped from her grasp to shatter against the floor spilling the Champagne over her and a woman next to her.

"Look at my dress!" the woman shrieked.

The waiter dropped to the floor and began to clear the glass with a towel.

"I'm sorry," Freesia said, her breath coming in sharp gasps.

Brennan appeared at her side. "What happened?"

"I dropped a glass." Tears pressed against her eyes. "I'm sorry I made a mess." She twisted to look up at him.

He searched her face. "What's wrong?"

"LaRose." She swallowed and gripped Brennan's arm. "He stopped me in the hallway."

Fury suffused his face. "Did he touch you?"

"He tried to kiss me, but I got away." Freesia waved over the mess on the floor. "I'm sorry I ruined everything."

"Let's go. I'll take you home."

"All right." Why did she try to take that glass? She hadn't thought.

The woman still cried over her dress, but Brennan ignored her and led Freesia from the room. Her whole body trembled as if her bones had melted.

Brennan held her close and rubbed her arms while they waited for the valet to bring his car.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Stop. I want to strangle LaRose."

"I don't know why I took that glass. I thought I should try to look, act normal."

The valet whipped up in the car, and Brennan had her bundled inside before she could blink.

"Wait," she said. "My clothes. My work clothes are in the servant's bathroom in the foyer."

"I'll get them."

Fear ran over her. "Don't. I'll go. Give me a second." She feared what he'd do if he ran into LaRose. Decking the smarmy lawyer would be terrible for Brennan's business image. It would end up in the news. She hadn't missed the journalists mingling with the guests, watching from the sidelines for any bit of gossip.

"You aren't going alone." He took her arm and walked with her. Anger radiated from him.

She left Brennan guarding the bathroom door and dashed inside, grabbed her duffel bag, and hurried back to him. He stood outside the door with his arms crossed over his chest, glaring toward the foyer. The murderous expression on his face dared anyone to approach. While she hated the scene and her klutz move, his protectiveness and emotion made her feel oddly comforted and thrilled.

He strode to her and took her arm to lead her out, shooting a furious glare. She feared in that instant he felt angry with her.

In the car, he shifted and blasted them away from the estate. He didn't look at her or speak.

"Brennan." She reached over to place her hand on his. "It was a wonderful night."

His expression didn't change from the stony anger hardening his mouth. "How dare he touch you!"

"I'm fine. I don't want that moment to rule the night."

"One evening, Freesia. One evening with my business associates."

Dread filled her stomach, and she removed her hand from his. "Did-did I embarrass you?"

"No."

She stared at him, trying to read his face. Emotion welled in her chest bringing tears. She'd ruined the entire evening. Staring out the window, she tried to rein in the emotion.

The ride fell silent, filled with tension and anger.

He walked with her to the door and waited for her to unlock it. Once she'd pushed the door open, she looked at him, searching for a spark, a sign, he wasn't angry at her but only at LaRose and the situation.

His hands settled on her shoulders and traced down her arms. He didn't look at her. "I'm sorry. What happened to you was about me, my company. You shouldn't have been involved. You shouldn't have had to deal with him."

"It wasn't your fault. Please, tell me if dropping the glass, making that scene, upset you."

"Enough about that."

"I had a good time."

He met her eyes. The anger had cooled, but a hardness lingered. "You're sweet, Freesia. Thank you." His hands rubbed up and down her arms once more before he let her go. "Goodnight."

Something terrible, something wrong, filled the air between them, and she felt herself drowning in a darkness she didn't understand. "Brennan, please."

"Goodnight."

He walked back to his car. She stood at the door trembling, gasping for breath over the pain enveloping her. It had happened. He had tired of her. She'd ruined everything.

She tripped into the house and melted onto the couch, too shocked and horrified to cry, part of her hoping she misjudged his reaction. She would call him. After a night's sleep, surely it wouldn't seem so bad. If she hadn't embarrassed him, why did LaRose's actions affect Brennan's attitude toward her?

--------

Brennan

RAGE HAD HIM RACING his car past Olde Towne into the hills. Visions of LaRose holding Freesia, touching her, trying to kiss her kept flashing through his mind. She had looked terrified. He would never forget how she shivered in his arms with fear.

His hand fisted and beat against the steering wheel. He hadn't protected her. He brought that fear and disgust to her.

If he kept her, she'd have to face sharks like LaRose at every event. Fury and pain clutched his gut, twisting it until he felt nausea roil. He loved her. How could he keep her and put her through more? Freesia was unspoiled, pure, sweet and gentle. She didn't belong in the business world filled with ambition, competition, and dishonesty.

He loved her. How could he lose her?

Whipping the car around the backroad curves, Brennan yelled and pounded on the steering wheel.

Declan's cabin came into view on the rise, and he swerved onto the drive, sped the car into the gravel and slammed into park. He seethed, his chest heaving with his agony. He should've protected her. He shouldn't have let her out of his sight with LaRose present.

The porchlights flicked on, and Declan stepped onto the deck.

Brennan slammed out of the car and headed for his brother.

"What's going on?" Declan asked, staring at him.

"LaRose assaulted Freesia."

Declan's head reared back. "Is she all right?"

"No, she's not all right. She was terrified, shaking." Brennan rubbed the back of his neck. "I messed up. She must hate me."

Declan put a hand on his shoulder. "Come inside."

Brennan paced in the living room.

Declan sat in a club chair with a drink in his hand and watched him. "Tell me what happened."

"He saw us in the garden. The way he looked at her." Brennan's hands fisted at his sides. He wanted to break something, throw something, roar. "She went to the bathroom, and he grabbed her on her way out. He tried to kiss her, she said."

Declan shifted, stared into his glass.

"She came running out, dropped a Champagne glass on the floor. I got her out as fast as I could. If I'd seen the lech, I would've done serious damage."

"So, she's not hurt."

"No, no. She was scared."

"Did you talk to her after? Comfort her?"

"Of course, I did." Brennan threw himself into a chair and rubbed his hands over his face.

"Why are you here and not with her?"

"What?" Brennan glared at his brother. "I brought that man to her. Because of me, Declan, that man put his hands on her!"

"I hear you. Why are you here?"

"I don't know. I shouldn't keep her. I should break it off, let her find a man better for her. She doesn't fit in this life. She's too good for the business sharks and lecherous creeps we rub shoulders with."

"What did she say after it happened? When you took her home?"

Brennan thought a moment. "She worried she'd embarrassed me when she dropped the glass. I told her no, it didn't matter. I have to let her go."

"I don't see why."

"I'd be the most selfish man on the planet to keep her after tonight."

"What does she want? Did she blame you? Did she tell you to get lost?"

"No, she'd never do that. She claimed she had a good time, but that's her being nice."

Declan looked at him, silent.

"What?"

"You sound arrogant."

Brennan leaped from the chair and roared at his brother.

"Now, listen, Brennan. You're deciding here, assuming this is what's best, when you should be considering what she wants and how she feels. If you want her, and she wants you after tonight, then why would you decide to give her up? If she can handle what happened without it ruining your whole date, then she's got strength you're not giving her credit for."

"Huh."

"It sounds like she worried more about you than her own feelings." Declan grinned his imp grin. "You could use a woman who'd put your needs first at events like tonight. She'd build you up and strengthen you instead of demanding attention for herself."

Brennan sat back down and considered.

"You left her at home by herself?"

"She was safe."

"Get back over there. You said she was scared and shaking, and you left her. She should be done with you for that, not for LaRose. He's a jerk. You aren't responsible for his actions."

Brennan stood, confused and emotional. "I don't know what to do."

Declan pushed him toward the door. "Go to her. Beg her to forgive you for leaving."

He rushed to the car and back the way he'd come.

Running her words through his mind, he couldn't remember exactly what she'd said. He'd gone deaf and blind with fury. When she had touched his hand, he had ignored her. He had longed to pull her to him and kiss her, but he'd felt unworthy. He had failed her.

He parked in her drive, sat in the car staring at her house, terrified. "I'm losing my mind."

Forcing himself to move, he went to her door and knocked. Fear and uncertainty made him feel sick.

When she opened the door, and he saw her pale, tear-streaked face, it felt as if a fist punched through his gut. What had he done? "Freesia."

She sobbed and threw herself into his arms. He ran a hand over her hair again and again as she clung to him.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I shouldn't have left you."

She pulled him inside the house and to the couch where they collapsed together. She curled against his chest, running her palm over his chest and stomach as if she couldn't believe he existed. He rubbed her back, holding her and murmuring into her hair how sorry he felt.

The question choked him, but he pushed it from his throat. "Do you still want to be with me? I understand if you don't after tonight. Events like this, men like LaRose, they're part of this life."

She pulled away to swat his shoulder. "Why would I not be with you? I don't blame you for men like him. If you can deal with me being a klutz everywhere we go, I can deal with a few jerks. No one else treated me badly, and you've got history with him."

"I should've protected you."

"You protected me by getting me away and guarding the bathroom. You didn't have to prove yourself by sticking around and fighting him. Your only thought was my safety. And you're here now."

"You're amazing, woman." Staggering relief made him lightheaded. "I don't deserve you."

"You remember that," she said with a laugh. "Like some drunk slimeball can chase me away from you."

He pulled her down to his chest and kissed the top of her head. "Can I just hold you for a while? Do you mind?"

A sigh trembled from her. "That sounds like heaven."

He woke the next morning with Freesia still snuggled in his arms. Shifting, he moved his stiff neck and stretched his arms over his head. It was early, still dark outside the window. The wall clock read four a.m.

She stirred. Opening her eyes, she took a second to realize where she slept. He watched her as she looked up at him, and a slow grin lit her face. He ran a hand from her shoulder down her side and back up.

Standing, she stretched with a happy sound humming from her throat.

She was gorgeous. He wanted to scoop her up and kiss her senseless, but he needed a shower, shave, and toothbrush before he went to the office.

"Do you have time for breakfast?" he asked. "We could eat at the Olde Towne Bakery before work."

"I'd love that. Let me get cleaned up, and I'll meet you there?"

"Fine. I'll run to the apartment and do the same." He pulled her to him and held her close a moment. "I'll see you soon, but it's hard to leave."

She giggled. "I know." She pushed him toward the door with a smile.

|  |

---|---|---

# Chapter 9

Freesia

She entered Brennan's historic office building with a picnic basket in her arms and a small bouquet of wildflowers. They'd made plans for her to tour his work before a picnic on the beach.

The brick-walled lobby had original arches and a soaring ceiling with skylights. She'd always admired this building from the outside. The spherical reception desk stood in the center of the lobby, and a guard desk sat outside the stairs and elevators to the second-floor offices.

"I have an appointment with Brennan O'Hanrahan."

"Right up the stairs and down the hall to your right. His office is the last one in the hall." She handed Freesia a purple lanyard visitor's pass.

"Thanks."

The receptionist winked at her. "Brennan speaks highly of you."

"He's talked about me?" To the receptionist?

"I'm his cousin, Laurie. We've all heard about you." Her dark brown eyes sparkled. "It's nice to meet you."

"You, too." Freesia's chest filled with warmth. He'd talked about her.

The guard eyed her lanyard and nodded for her to continue. Freesia walked up the double set of stairs to the second- floor foyer. Another guard stood at the wall where the hall split left and right. He nodded to her, and she turned right.

Voices drifted from the open offices. People gathered inside each talking and gesturing with animation. The whole atmosphere felt healthy and joyful, a good place to work. Pride trilled. Brennan must be a good boss.

When she reached the end of the hall, she met up with a window overlooking Olde Towne and the waterfront. A brick archway on the left side of the hall led to a small entry where Brennan's secretary worked outside his office.

"Morning." The petite, cute secretary greeted her with a smile. "You must be Ms. Freesia."

"Yes, mam." Brennan's door was closed. "Is he free?"

"He's finishing a meeting, but it shouldn't be much longer." The secretary studied her for a moment. Dark-rimmed glasses couldn't hide her large blue eyes. "I'm Matilda."

Freesia shook her hand. She had thick, red hair and freckles. "Are you a cousin?"

Matilda laughed, a light, tinkling sound that made Freesia laugh, too. "No. I'm the daughter of one of Patrick's oldest friends. Mr. Brennan makes me feel like family."

Brennan's door opened, and a gentleman stepped out.

A bit of nervous excitement fluttered in her belly.

Matilda buzzed Brennan to tell him Freesia arrived. "Go on in," she said to Freesia.

She walked in and paused to digest the scene he created. Brennan sat at his wide desk in a suit that highlighted the breadth and power of his shoulders. The corner office boasted windows across two walls. His view of the harbor made her breath hitch. Wow. Black-framed prints of Olde Towne covered the pale green wall to her left. Below the wall of pictures sat a loveseat.

"Do you like it?" he asked, drawing her attention to him.

"It's you." She came around the side of the desk as he stood to meet her.

"What does that mean?" He wrapped her in a hug, and they shared a light kiss.

"It's masculine and comfortable with a breathtaking view."

He chuckled and gazed at her with such a look of affection, her stomach flipped.

"I do like the view," he said in a low, deep voice before kissing her again slow and sweet.

Freesia melted into him, a warm buzz flowing through her. "Mmm."

His arms tightened around her. "I've missed you."

She giggled. "It's been a day, but I missed you, too."

"Would you join me at our Annual Appreciation Day this weekend? I know it's short notice. You've had a lot going on plus the gala, so I hadn't mentioned it. Can you come?"

"I'm free on Saturday. What's it for?"

"We host a fun day for our office employees and their families. All the secretaries, our co-workers. We select a few of the drivers and movers as well each year. We invite them to the estate for the day and play games, swim, cookout. Sometimes we have it catered, like this year."

"I'd love to come." She grinned at him. "I'm more and more impressed with you and your company."

"Well, let's give you the tour and introduce you to the crew."

In the marketing department, Declan stood from a desk covered in sketches to shake her hand. A look passed between him and Brennan she didn't understand, but Declan appeared pleased to see her.

He shot her an infectious, impish grin and gestured at the mood boards they had displayed across the walls. "Your idea to use our family coat of arms was a hit."

"I'm glad."

A couple of women and a young man approached. Brennan introduced her, and they all beamed at her with varying degrees of relief.

The attention left her flustered, and she felt her skin flush. Brennan laid a hand against her lower back. When she looked up, his face shone with pride, and her breath stuttered.

To disguise her emotion, she stepped to the boards to study the designs. "The red and white are simple but eye-catching. What does the coat of arms mean?" She traced her fingertips over the shield with a knight's helmet in the center.

Declan stood next to her. "The motto means champion."

"Oh, I like that." Her chest squeezed with the intensity of her feelings. How perfect for Brennan and his family. She understood the history of Irish immigrants and how they were treated. Their success story meant a triumph above prejudice and poverty.

"We're submitting the new designs to the panel next week."

"I'm happy it's coming together for you."

Brennan laughed. "Declan is, too. He prefers to work from his cabin, and this project has had him chained to the office."

She glanced at Declan curiously, but he shrugged and moved back to his desk. Brennan and Freesia moved on and let the team get back to work.

"Let me show you dad's office."

They walked to the foyer and continued to the opposite side of the building. Patrick must have the other corner office.

Patrick entered the hall through the twin archway followed by a couple of other gentlemen. When he saw Brennan, his jovial face beamed with pride, and he gestured Brennan to join the group. Freesia hung back to let them meet.

"Brennan, meet our new legal team."

He shook hands. "We've had video chats, but it's good to meet you all in person."

"We're discussing which junior lawyer to have inhouse. I have several for you to choose from," Patrick told Brennan.

She had spied the breakroom on their way down the hall and backtracked to get herself water. On her way out, she heard men's voices in the hall. One of the men said her name. She froze.

"Yeah, that's her name. I wonder what he sees in her."

"She's hot. Did you catch that sway when she walks?"

"I'd say she's cute at best. Anyway, I heard Mrs. O'Hanrahan crying in the hallway because she doesn't approve of the relationship, but Brennan refuses to give her up."

"If the Lowery family is royalty, the O'Hanrahan clan is Olde Towne nobility, and she's a commoner."

"Watch out. If Brennan hears you, he'll be furious."

"I'm not saying anything is wrong with them being together. Who doesn't love a good rags-to-riches fairy tale?"

"I smell trouble brewing if Mother doesn't approve."

"He's doing this three-month thing for Mr. O'Hanrahan. She could be a three-month fling."

"I'm telling you, the way he talks about her, she's no fling."

"Like an O'Hanrahan would ever be serious about such a mousy little thing. She's a florist. It's like dating the cook. You enjoy the cook. You don't keep the cook."

"Oh, hello, Mr. O'Hanrahan."

"Peter, Mike. Good afternoon." A pause. He must be shaking their hands. "Good to see you, Greg."

"We were just heading to lunch."

"Don't let me keep you."

"Thanks, Mr. O'Hanrahan."

Freesia felt iced over with shock and horror before a wave of humiliation heated her to near-boiling. She couldn't make sense of the words. One of them stood up for her, while the other two spouted hurtful, malicious gossip. Could it be true? Did Bethany not approve of her? Was she a three-month fling? That felt much worse.

Pressing her hands over her stomach, she tried to control the waves of gut-wrenching pain. She had seconds before Brennan found her. It didn't matter what those men said. Didn't Brennan warn her about some businessmen? It meant nothing. She sucked in air to cool herself.

Gulping from her water, she managed to appear normal when Brennan entered the room. The happiness on his face soothed her. She was not a fling.

"There you are." He studied her a second, and she threw him a wobbly smile. "You ready to see my dad?"

"Sure." She held up her bottle. "I needed a refresher."

He grinned as he took her hand in his and led her down the hallway. She squashed the negative emotion and buried it.

Patrick's secretary nodded to them as they passed into his office. He had a corner office like Brennan's, but his view of Olde Towne stretched across downtown buildings and streets bustling with lunch-hour traffic. She could see her shop and the bakery. She pulled up the memories of her time with Brennan to combat the poisonous barbs of gossip.

"What do you think about our offices?" Patrick asked her with a warm smile.

"They're wonderful. The old brick and the arches are strong and manly, perfect for you O'Hanrahans."

He laughed. "I like you, Freesia." His deep voice boomed as he clapped Brennan on the back much like Declan would've.

Brennan's face softened as he watched her with his father. He winked. "Are you ready for lunch?"

She nodded, her throat feeling tight with emotion. He took her hand, and she refused to think of the ugly words any longer. Brennan belonged to her.

Brennan

Freesia kept quieter than usual as they picked a place on the sand for their picnic.

While he spread a blanket for them to sit on, she wandered toward the rocky shoreline. She sat on the edge of a rock with the breeze blowing her hair back from her face and looked toward the horizon.

As he admired the scene she painted, his love for her welled up in his chest and gripped him with emotion. He treasured her beauty, creativity, and strength. Did she love him? They hadn't said the words. It felt too soon.

She walked back toward him, and he watched the way she moved, holding her sandals with one hand and sweeping her hair from her face with the other. A breeze caught the skirt of her sundress, molding it to her shape. He hissed a breath as his abs clenched with desire.

When she settled beside him with a soft smile, he cupped her cheek and moved in to kiss her. One kiss didn't satisfy his thirst. He pulled her closer and took her mouth again, tasting of her sweetness and deepening the kiss as she trembled against him. The confession of his love slid to the tip of his tongue until he looked into her eyes and saw a shadow beneath her desire. He swallowed the three words he longed to say and sat back.

"How much time is left of your three months?" She pulled at a loose thread in the blanket.

He tilted his head as he thought about it and studied her. "A couple of weeks."

A deep sigh echoed from her. "How do you feel about that?"

"I'll be glad when it's done. I've remembered what I needed to remember." He couldn't stop himself from touching her, and he tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear, continued to trace down the side of her neck.

She shivered, and her response thrilled him. Shifting, she leaned back against his chest with her legs stretched out in front of her.

He lightly traced her arm. "Why do you ask?"

"Oh." She shrugged against him. "I just wondered. I knew it ended soon."

"I won't miss lugging packages up flights of stairs or fighting traffic. I won't miss the late nights to get the route finished. I won't miss the uniform." They both chuckled. "But I will miss seeing you at work almost every Monday." He kissed her shoulder.

She shifted again, not meeting his eyes and putting space between them. She dug through the picnic basket. "I hope you like chicken salad."

"Haven't met a variety I didn't like."

A smile quivered over her mouth. "Good. I brought some of the chocolate and the wine."

"Perfect."

They ate in silence, and he watched her. "Why are you nervous?" he asked.

Her eyes fluttered to his. "I'm not."

"What's got you so quiet?"

"Am I quiet? What shall we talk about?" She gave him an overly bright smile.

He opened the wine and poured them each a glass. Eating a piece of chocolate, he smiled. "This is good stuff."

She laughed a little. "I've been enjoying it."

He held a piece to her lips, and her eyes widened, turned a swirling green. When she took a bite and moaned a little, he leaned forward to capture her mouth. She tasted like wine and chocolate and caramel. He took a shaky breath to calm his need. She made a little noise deep in her throat, reached around his neck to press his mouth back to hers, and he lost his senses.

Gripping her waist, he rolled her onto her back and hovered over her as he ravishedd her mouth. The passion building in him burned through his skin until he caught fire. She ran her hands over his back, his shoulders, into his hair. Sensations arced through him. Her mouth met his with a desperation and desire that flamed his need for her. Their kisses turned furious with hunger, and he squeezed her waist, lifted her against him and held her tight.

He moaned her name and trailed kisses across her jaw and back to her mouth to linger over her lush, sweet lips. His hunger would never be satisfied. He wouldn't ever get enough. She had to be his. Forever.

Brennan's brain poked at him, reminding him they were on the beach for the whole world to see. If he wasn't careful, he'd get them splashed over the gossip news wrapped in an embrace. He wouldn't care, but he knew Freesia would be embarrassed.

He broke from her and took a deep, slow breath. "The more I kiss you, the more I want to."

She lay on her back, her breathing ragged, her skin flushed. It took every ounce of willpower to look away and not snatch her back to him.

When she sat up, she looked to him as if searching for something, but he didn't know what.

He smiled. "You're addictive, Freesia."

"Is that a good thing?"

"Of course."

She smiled, and he pushed away, the uneasiness tugging at him.

"So," he said, clearing his throat. "I'll see you at the estate Saturday around eleven?"

"Yes. I'm looking forward to it."

"I am, too. Wear your play clothes."

She laughed. "Jeans and t-shirt, check. Do I bring anything?"

He traced her cheek. "Just your beautiful self." Pink colored her cheeks, and he grinned.

After the picnic, he took her to his place. When they walked into the lobby, he couldn't help but chuckle, remembering their collision and spilled flowers. He glanced at her, but Freesia's attention focused on the chandeliers in the lobby and plush lounges. Her hand traced along the marble-tiled hall leading to the elevators.

He unlocked his door and gestured for her to enter his foyer. She walked past the round table centered in the space and gaped at his living room. Blown-glass light fixtures hung from the high ceiling, anchoring the room. A wide, grand fireplace flanked by floor to ceiling built-ins and a mammoth TV claimed the right-hand wall. Windows covered the wall across from the foyer entrance, leading to a balcony that overlooked the city. On the left side, arched openings peeked into a chef-style kitchen. Arches in the left-hand corner led to a formal dining room with a grand chandelier and carved moldings.

She swiveled as she roved the interior. When she faced him, her pretty eyes were as big as softballs.

"Don't freak out," he said, worry edging into his voice.

"Your place is amazing." She peered down the hall through an arched opening in the right-side corner.

"Go on, explore. I've got an office, a guest-room, a game room, and the master."

"No swimming pool or bowling alley or weight room?" Her lips quivered with a hidden laugh.

His entire body deflated with relief. "Those are on the roof and above the basement."

"Haha."

Freesia moved through the hallway, passing the powder room and the guest bedroom with en-suite bath, and paused outside the game room.

"You must hang out here a lot with your friends." She gestured to the foosball table and dartboard.

He shrugged. "I've got a few friends in Olde Towne I've known since childhood. Most of my friends are spread throughout the country, big cities, much faster-paced than Olde Towne. My college buddies are big business in New York and LA."

"Do you visit?"

"I do, they do. We try to keep in touch. You're fortunate, Freesia, to be close to Jayce and Emma."

"I know." She grinned. "When you do hang with your friends, you must have a great time, parties with lots of food and games."

"We do. Since we don't get to visit often, it makes the visits more exciting. Being guys, we have to compete over who is the most entertaining host with the coolest toys."

She laughed. "I can see that."

When she saw his king-sized bed, she looked to him with a raised brow, making him laugh. When she saw his closet, she tsked. "It's a shame to let a closet like this sit empty. It's the size of my bedroom."

"It's not empty," he countered.

"Ha!"

When she saw his bathroom, she sighed. "A double showerhead, Roman shower. I've always dreamed of an open, walk-in shower. Now, I'm jealous."

The shower impressing her more than the massive free-standing soaking tub entertained Brennan. Having her in his personal space did things to his breathing.

Escaping into the hallway, he asked, "are you ready for a movie?"

"Sure."

She followed him into the living room and curled up in a leather recliner. She studied the room.

"What do you think? Be honest."

"It's beautiful." A frown pulled at her mouth.

"But?" He wanted her to love his place. How much it mattered scared him.

"Where are your photos? Your art and knickknacks? It doesn't feel enjoyed."

"Enjoyed?" He sat on the sofa and studied his living room. Books filled the shelves; furniture filled the room, but she had a point. "I don't have much personal stuff, do I?"

She sat next to him, curling into his side when he laid an arm across her shoulders. "You don't need a lot of stuff or clutter. Maybe a few personal things you love, souvenirs, collectibles. You don't have anything?"

"I'm busy with the company. When I socialize, it's usually outside of my apartment. I don't entertain often, and I spend most of my downtime at the estate." He shuddered. "We have a hundred years of stuff at the mansion, antiques, souvenirs, art. I need my personal space to breathe."

"Ah. I understand."

"What would you do to warm my space?"

"Seriously?"

"Sure." He pulled an electronic tablet from the coffee table drawer. "Let's shop."

Her laugh made her eyes glitter. "All right. What stores do you like?"

He couldn't think of a one. "No clue."

"Where did you buy your furniture?"

"Local place."

"That's nice. I approve."

He kissed her temple. "Thanks. Where do you suggest?"

"Hmm." She took the tablet from him. Within moments she connected to a shop with modern design, a shop with eclectic options, and a trendy place with loads of stuff from all around the world.

"I'm overwhelmed," he said, feeling panic in his chest.

"It's ok. Scroll through and narrow down what you like with a brief glimpse." She scrolled, and his tastes began to develop.

An hour later, they were deep into a shopping spree. Freesia walked through his place, pointing out where he could hang art, where he could put a few odds and ends, where he could use a table or sculpture. He released a design monster.

Brennan felt a tug on his heart as Freesia put a bit of herself in his home. She fit. It felt right. He couldn't tear his eyes from her. When her hands trailed along the mantle and over his shelves, when her face lit over a vision she had in her head, he knew he wanted Freesia here with him. Always.

She settled against him again and reviewed all his purchases. With a shake of her head, she said, "I can't believe you redecorated your house in an afternoon without blinking an eye. This is a definite perk to being a billionaire."

"Why not enjoy it? It may not last. It could go up in smoke tomorrow, but I mean to enjoy it while I have it."

"It wouldn't scare you to lose everything?"

"Of course it would. Our history, our legacy, it's part of who I am, part of what molded me. I'd be just as depressed as anyone else who lost their home in a flood or a fire. But all this stuff is replaceable. It's the people in my life I treasure. Like you." He shifted to hold her closer. "I treasure you."

He kissed her, and all the rightness he'd sensed filled him, took the kiss to greater depths than he'd ever experienced. She had become a part of him, woven into his heart, his being. He kissed her as if she were necessary for his next breath.

"Brennan." She pulled apart from him with a trembling smile. "Are we going to watch a movie?"

"Yeah. Just, give me a second." He took a deep breath to settle his emotion.

Unease filtered through the haze of desire. She didn't seem as affected by the kiss. What if she didn't feel for him what he felt for her? Sharp panic shot through his chest at the thought.

She picked a movie from his streaming options while he went into the kitchen to fix popcorn.

He needed to focus on the moment and enjoy his time with her. Settling onto the couch beside her, he ignored his fears and enjoyed the feel of her snuggled against his side.

|  |

---|---|---

# Chapter 10

Freesia

She had to know. When Freesia walked into the O'Hanrahan backyard with her flower arrangement in hand and saw Bethany chatting on the deck, she acknowledged she couldn't let it go.

Bethany smiled when she saw Freesia and gestured for her to join the group.

"Where should I put these?" Freesia asked.

The women standing around Bethany oohed and aahed over the happy, bright arrangement of sunflowers and Gerbera daisies.

"Oh, let's find the perfect spot." Bethany glowed. She led Freesia to catered food tables and tucked the arrangement between pies and pretty cakes.

"Thank you for having me," Freesia said, watching Bethany's face for any telltale sign of disapproval.

"Goodness, you're welcome here!" Bethany waved her hand over the tables. "We used the Olde Towne Bistro to cater. It's a good standby." Bethany winked at her. "In case you should need a caterer in the future."

"Oh. Uh." Freesia blinked away from Bethany. "Have you seen Brennan?"

"He's playing football with the other boys. Come, meet the girls."

Shannon came out to the deck and waved. "Freesia! I'm so glad you came."

She linked their arms, and Freesia relaxed. "I'm glad to be here. The food looks wonderful."

"Freesia, our neighbors and friends," Bethany said, and Freesia detected a slight tightening of her lips as she observed Shannon's affection.

She introduced the women one at a time, but Freesia didn't try to keep the names and faces separated. They eyed Freesia with varying levels of curiosity. Most of them had willowy figures and wore designer jeans or tea dresses.

Freesia glanced down at her plain t-shirt and old, comfortable jeans. Hadn't Brennan said play clothes?

"Freesia, Shannon, come help me check the picnic area," Bethany said.

They followed her to a white tent set up on the lawn. Shannon chattered, but Freesia had trouble focusing on what she said. Round tables filled the tent. Bethany had chosen an informal garden party theme with a variety of pink and purple hued flowers, streamers, and balloons decorating the space. Freesia's professional eye judged the centerpiece flowers to be expensive. She wondered what floral shop Bethany had used, unsure how she felt about it not being hers. It felt nice being a guest, not having slaved over the decor herself.

Unlit tealights surrounded each vase. Real-deal china perfected each place setting. Waiters decked out in uniform mingled, poised to serve drinks. Freesia didn't fail to catch Bethany describing this as a "picnic".

"We'll eat in a few minutes, so we need to finish the last second details." Bethany directed Shannon to light the candles. She asked Freesia to help Shannon and double-check the flower arrangements. Bethany whisked around the tables, assuring the order of each place setting with glasses and silverware.

"Everything is lovely," Freesia said, returning to Bethany's side.

"Good. Now, Shannon, please round up those boys. They need to clean up before we eat." Bethany sighed. She laughed and explained to Freesia, "I let them get the football out of the way right off, so they're better behaved and clean for the picnic and other games."

Freesia bit her lip. The need to ask about the gossip warred with fear and embarrassment. "Mrs. O'Hanrahan."

Bethany paused in straightening a white tablecloth to look up at her. Freesia saw emotion in her face, but she couldn't identify what kind.

"I visited the office on Wednesday. I heard some men say you don't approve of Brennan dating me. Is--is that true?"

Brennan's mother wrung her hands, and Freesia knew. Her stomach dipped and rolled.

She touched Freesia's shoulder. "You're a dear, lovely girl."

"But," Freesia whispered, her throat closing with emotion.

"I know how my son feels about you, but I do have concerns. Brennan does PR for the company. He needs someone who...shows well."

Freesia squeezed her eyes shut. She meant someone like those women on the deck, someone who would always look like a picture from a magazine.

Bethany cupped her cheek, and Freesia opened her eyes. "Have fun today. Enjoy your time with him. Whatever happens is between you. I see that you care about him and want his happiness."

"I understand." Enjoy her time with him since it would be temporary. Brennan couldn't keep someone like her forever. Bethany hoped she would let him go for his wellbeing. Hot pain coursed through her like a knife.

"Now, I must see to the buffet. When the men are clean, we'll eat." Bethany moved out of the tent.

Freesia sank into a chair. She didn't know what she felt or what she should do. She did want the best for Brennan.

Leaving the tent, she headed for the deck. Whooping and shouting caught her attention. A mob of men crossed the lawn. They disappeared into the side entrance of the house.

She and Brennan spotted each other at the same moment. His grin widened to a full-blown glorious smile, and her heartbeat faltered. He moved toward her with his natural saunter highlighting the width of his shoulders. She gasped over the definition of his muscular chest and stomach beneath the soaked, transparent white t-shirt that clung to every inch. He might as well be shirtless. She lost control of her gaze as it feasted on his body.

"Freesia," he said, as he clasped her arms. She loved the sound of her name in his rich, low voice. She tried to savor it. He gave her a light kiss. "I would hug you, but I'm sweaty." He laughed a little.

She swallowed. "That's a nice look for you, Brennan." Her gaze devoured the contours of his chest and abs, even more devastating to her senses up close.

"Hold that thought," he said, his voice a husky growl. "Give me twenty minutes. I'll meet you on the deck." He kissed her again, and his hands tightened their hold on her arms. "Make that ten minutes," he whispered before pulling away and jogging to the house.

Most of the guests gathered on the deck. Patrick stood at Bethany's side with his arm looped over her shoulders. Freesia slipped to the back of the group.

The guys had cleaned up and changed into polos and slacks or jeans. The ladies mingled in their pretty outfits, their laughter like music on the air. The beautiful scene dripped money, success, confidence. Some backyard cookout.

Remembering they had invited their employees and coworkers, she forced herself to look at them with objectivity. Some of the women weren't dressed as stylish. Some of the guys didn't look as polished. Their haircuts weren't as perfect; their smiles weren't as streamlined, their stances not as posed.

The point hit her. She fit with them. If she went to events at Brennan's side, she'd be picked out of the crowd as the poor girl, the help. No one at the gala had made her feel like less, but they hadn't known she worked as the florist, either. Even now, some of the girls eyed her clothes and simple French braid with smirks. They must wonder what Brennan saw in her, a mousy, common girl. What did he see in her?

At that moment, he came to her and laced their fingers. She memorized the sight of his warm brown eyes and beautiful smile. Sunlight glinted off his sandy hair. The golden boy.

His smile faltered. "Are you ok?"

"Yeah," she said, hoping he didn't notice the tightness in her voice. "Your mom has thrown a beautiful party."

"She always does. It's in her blood."

"What does that mean?" The question came out sharp.

He frowned. "Nothing." He studied her. "Did someone upset you?"

She looked away, mad at herself. If she had a limited amount of time with Brennan, she wanted to savor it. "I'm sorry. Forget it."

He squeezed her fingers. "I'm happy to see you."

"I'm happy to be here, with you." She took a deep, calming breath.

"What if we sneak off to the gazebo?" He leered wickedly, and she laughed. His expression softened. "I'd like to give you flowers."

She smiled. "What kind?"

"What says you're beautiful but worth more than your beauty? I admire your patience with me when I mess up. I treasure your friendship." He trailed a finger along her hairline, down her cheek. "You make me feel joy, anticipation, passion."

Emotion swept her. "Alstroemeria for friendship, amaryllis for beauty, bird of paradise for anticipation and joy, and aster for patience."

He eased closer, the chocolate of his eyes darkening. "And passion?"

"Iris and dark lily."

Dipping his head, he whispered, "Do you like your flowers?" His lips brushed hers, and she lost herself in the sensation of his gentle kiss.

Patrick clinked his glass to catch everyone's attention. "Thank you all for coming. This is our chance to say thank you to all our employees for the hard work they give us all year. Please, enjoy!" His attention settled a second on each of their employees. Then he looked at Freesia, and she felt her blood freeze. Even Patrick?

Brennan sat her beside him at a table and visited with the movers and couriers sitting with them. He'd gotten to know many of the guests well during his three months. They joked and laughed like the best of friends. Brennan didn't have a snobbish bit, and her heart swelled with pain and pride.

Throughout the dinner, he thanked the waiter each time he refilled Brennan's water. He greeted employees by name, always kind and sincere.

He introduced Freesia to his coworkers and personal friends without a shadow of shame.

She took a break and sat at the table with her drink while he talked to a group of buddies. None of the women came to talk to her. She could be friendly and go to them, but she didn't have the energy or the emotion to make the effort against her natural timidity. Besides, she decided they were jealous.

When the "picnic" ended, Brennan took her hand and led her to the games set up near the pool house.

"Did you want to swim?" he asked.

"Not today." She gestured toward the badminton net. "I like badminton."

"All right, we'll play. Let's grab a couple more people."

She stood with a racket and birdie while he snagged another couple.

When he returned to her side, he looped an arm around her waist to pull her close. "I can't tell you how happy I am you're here, beside me." He beamed down at her, and she melted into his embrace.

"Me, too."

She shook hands with Mike and Melissa, and they began a competitive game. Freesia laughed as she fought for the win, diving, leaping, swinging with all her might. She roared when they missed and teased Mike and Melissa.

Brennan's admiration shone on his face. "You're good."

She shrugged. "I've always liked badminton. I played obsessively with my best friend growing up."

When they won, he whooped and swung her in a circle. "That's my girl! The badminton Queen."

A free, happy laugh bubbled from her chest.

They walked hand in hand through the gardens. She stopped to admire flowers along the way. He touched her hair or caressed her face or her shoulder. He couldn't seem to stop touching her, and Freesia's heart thudded with excitement and happiness.

"What other games will they play?" she asked.

"Croquet is set up and volleyball. A big group will swim. Some of the guys fish every year in the pond. What would you like to do?"

She wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her head against his chest. "I just want to be with you. Whatever you want."

"I want a beer. Let's head back to the tent a while."

"Ok." She didn't want to be around anyone, but she didn't want to tell him why.

Brennan got caught by a group from his office. She sat at one of the tables with Shannon and Gretchen and chatted a while. His eyes kept moving to her, and his admiration warmed her. Before long, Gretchen fussed, and Shannon left to entertain her.

Patrick sat beside her with a gusty sigh. He patted her hand on the table. "Tell me, Freesia, are you enjoying yourself?"

"Yes. It's nice to see you visit naturally with your employees. I admire your company, Mr. O'Hanrahan."

"Patrick, girl. I'm glad." His gaze followed hers to land on Brennan. "I'm pleased with how Brennan's three months worked out. Honestly, the whole thing went better than I'd hoped."

"He's more focused?"

"Yes, and more appreciative of what he has. Today will be the final boost, I think. He needed to remember what we offer the employees and customers, our purpose."

"He's a wonderful man."

Patrick winked at her. "He is, but then I'm partial. You're the unexpected blessing of the arrangement. When I said he should date a real girl, I had no idea he listened."

Pain stabbed her chest, seared through her. "I'm sorry, what?"

"I knew if he dated a regular girl, he'd remember what's important, what matters."

"Dating is part of his three-month arrangement?"

Patrick's face blanked as if he realized what he'd revealed. He reached for her hand. "Freesia, don't misunderstand."

"No." She stood. "I understand perfectly."

She fled the tent before tears of hurt and fury could fall. Leaving without a word wasn't the way to handle this, but she couldn't think past the anguish, the pain as if she'd been slugged in the stomach. She needed perspective, time, away from the crowd. Under the pain, anger brewed. Anger at herself. She had known a relationship with Brennan couldn't work, but she had succumbed to her heart. Walking with desperate, long strides she reached her car.

"Freesia!" Brennan called.

Her hands trembled as she tried to pull keys from her pocket and hit the fob. A sob pushed through her throat, and she sucked air, held the emotion inside. She got the door open and one leg in the car before Brennan grabbed her. He slammed the door shut and swung her around to face him.

His chest heaved from running after her. "Dad told me what he said. Look at me!"

She shook her head, holding her breath against the sob pressing her chest. He took her chin and tried to lift her head, but she jerked from his grasp.

"Freesia, please." He leaned down to see into her face. "Look at me."

Taking a deep breath, she lifted her eyes to his. "Did-did your father tell you to date for your three-month lesson?"

Brennan tried to smile, but concern, fear, filled his expression. "It's not what you think. I found you, and I'm keeping you."

He pulled her closer, but she pressed against his chest.

"Does your mother disapprove of me?"

His hands flexed on her shoulders as he looked at her, silent, his expression torn. Her heart shattered, and she tried to pull away.

He tightened his grip. "I don't care what she says. It doesn't matter."

"I don't--" her voice broke. "I don't belong here."

"That's not true. You do. I want you here."

"Brennan," she gasped, the sound barely audible. She took a ragged breath, forced the words from her aching throat. "I care about you. But you have responsibilities, a legacy that's bigger than me. Everyone knows I'm not who you need." Tears broke through to roll down her cheeks. "I'm not any more permanent than your courier uniform. You'll move on to a woman who shows well."

"I don't want anyone else." His gaze warmed, softened as he brushed her tears from her cheeks. "The two of us, we can make our own world." Emotion filled his voice as he whispered, "I need you."

"I can't be with you. I want the best for you, and this between us..." Her eyes closed over the pain clamping down on her chest. "Before we resent each other, before I fail you, before it hurts more...I have to say goodbye."

"No," he choked with a mist of tears filling his eyes. "Don't do this." He laid his forehead against hers as his hands traced down her arms. "Freesia. Please."

She wanted nothing more than to melt against him, to throw sense to the wind and grab onto him. "I'm a three-month fling, Brennan. That's all I can be to you."

His head jerked up. "A fling? How can you believe what I feel for you is a fling? How can you think anyone's opinion matters more than the two of us, together?" His face darkened with a flash of anger and hurt. "If you loved me, none of this would matter. Whatever my parents said or thought wouldn't matter. You would fight for us, try for us."

He released her and stuck his hands in his pockets. "All of this is an excuse to run. You can't see me past the wealth, the estate, the company."

"Goodbye, Brennan."

She got in the car, and he didn't try to stop her.

She drove away, leaving him standing in the drive. "Don't look back," she whispered aloud, but her traitorous eyes flicked to the review mirror.

Brennan hadn't moved. He pushed his hands through his hair as he watched her go. Chest wracking sobs tore painfully from her heart.

Brennan

She didn't love him. It took all his strength not to collapse to his knees.

When her crossover disappeared, he turned and stared at the house. Tears burned his eyes. He had never regretted his life until that moment. He would've given anything to be a delivery guy.

Taking a breath, he pulled in his emotion. It didn't matter. It all came down to the fact she didn't love him.

He walked back to the party. Patrick waited on the deck and studied his expression as he approached. Brennan shook his head and watched his father's face crumble.

"I'm sorry." Patrick laid a hand on Brennan's shoulder, squeezed. "Would it help if I talked to her?"

"No. It's done."

He continued to the tent where he grabbed a beer.

Declan came in with a couple of other guys. "Hey, man. Where's Freesia?"

"Gone."

Declan peered at his face and hesitated. "You mean for good?"

"Can we not talk about it?" Brennan stared at the wall of the tent, hoping he wouldn't cry right there in front of his brother.

Bethany fluttered into the tent, her loose sweater flowing behind her. "Oh, Brennan! There you are."

Anger flared in his chest. He rose from his chair so fast, he flipped it backward. "She's gone, mother. Left me. Congratulations."

He stalked away. He needed to do something, beat something.

Catching sight of a few of his friends, he hollered, "who's up for more football?"

Freesia had been in his life for a few weeks. He'd get over her, move on.

|  |

---|---|---

# Chapter 11

Freesia

Freesia buried herself in work, making floral arrangements for friends and relatives when orders were slow. She worked on her special requests, walking miles of shoreline hunting for driftwood and other treasures the sea offered.

Rosemary watched her with a constant frown. Freesia refused to discuss the situation or what they'd said.

Brennan was wrong. She hadn't used his lifestyle as an excuse. She hadn't imagined his mother's words or his father's. For all the world, she didn't want to think she meant nothing more than a three-month experiment. It made more sense than a gorgeous billionaire falling for her.

A call from Shannon surprised her, but she refused to tell her any more than she told Rosemary. Shannon gave up after the third call.

A week after the breakup, Freesia returned from making a delivery and entered the front room. Rosemary and Ginger stood over the counter, looking at something and whispering together.

"Hey, what's going on?" Freesia asked as she pulled her apron over her head.

Rosemary flipped over whatever they discussed and whirled to face Freesia. "Nothing."

"Now, you've got to tell me." Freesia laughed.

"Trust us," Ginger said, licking her lips nervously. "You don't want to see it."

A dark feeling tickled over her as she looked back at Rosemary. "What is it? Show me."

Rosemary shook her head, and Freesia marched to the counter. When she saw the Olde Towne business newsletter, she slowed. A sick dread rolled up from her stomach. With trembling hands, she turned it over.

Brennan's face splashed across the front page. She had to close her eyes over a wave of pain. The photo captured him in a ballroom, surrounded by dancing couples, holding a beautiful woman in his arms. The woman gazed into his face with an expression of total adoration. Brennan grinned at the camera, looking like the happiest man alive.

Freesia read the article with an unnatural stillness enveloping her. It described a recent black-tie event to celebrate the area's biggest developers and influencers. The picture caption said Brennan had been seen with her multiple times over the past week and asked the question, "could it be love?"

Well, he moved fast. He had replaced her in twenty-four hours.

She turned to Rosemary and Ginger. "What's the problem?"

Rosemary's eyes bulged. "Freesia. You must feel something."

"What do you think I should do? Break down and cry? It doesn't matter. It's over." Freesia marched into the cooler. "I'm working."

She thought of the flowers available and let her mind wander. Grabbing this and that, she considered options and grabbed a few different flowers. Satisfied, she marched to the workstation and began creating a masterpiece.

It took the rest of the day to finish, and her back and feet ached. When she studied the finished arrangement, she felt it may be her favorite creation yet.

Rosemary stood beside her. "Wow. That's amazing. What does it mean?"

"Zest for life, constancy, ardent attachment, passion, and romance."

"Hmm. Who makes you think of all those things?"

Freesia frowned and looked back at the arrangement. With a flash, she saw Brennan in the flowers, in the meaning, and the pain of losing him crashed over her like a physical thing. Tears broke through her emotional dam to trace her cheeks.

Rosemary pulled her into a hug and rubbed her back as she sobbed a week's worth of emotion. "Tell me."

When she could breathe and the worst of the emotion passed, she tried to explain. "I can't be what he needs, and I want him to be happy. It could never work. I'm a florist, and he's a wealthy, successful businessman who moves in high circles. He needs a wife to do PR and throw lavish parties. His family doesn't approve of me, not forever."

"What did he say?"

"I used that as an excuse to run. That I didn't love him because of his lifestyle." Freesia's tears ran fresh, and she pressed her hands over her face. "I'm not crazy about the lifestyle, but it isn't the reason we can't be together. I don't care about those things. He could never choose me, marry me."

"Brennan spent weeks wooing you. He wouldn't have worked so hard if his feelings weren't real. I think he loves you, Freesia. He fought for you knowing your differences and despite his family." Rosemary wiped at her tears with a tissue. "You know what that flower arrangement says don't you?"

Freesia sighed. "I do."

"What are you going to do about it?"

"Nothing. He has a new girlfriend."

Rosemary rolled her eyes. "You've got her beat."

"You think?"

"If you love him, stop all this stubbornness and go after him! Claim him, Freesia. Don't let fear or family opinion keep you from the man you love."

"It's not that easy!"

"Sure it is. All that matters is how he feels about you. Do something to show him you care and want him back. Do something to win him before you lose him."

Freesia helped Rosemary clean up, her thoughts whirling.

Late that night, she lay awake reviewing everything Rosemary said.

She didn't want to remember the scene with Brennan, but she forced herself to replay the conversation. He had begged her. His devastation crushed her. In the end, he'd withdrawn from her in anger. Could he forgive her? She had thought breaking up was best for him. She had thought it was the right thing.

What an idiot.

She loved Brennan. The words came with pain and regret. Fear had kept her from admitting the truth, from committing herself. He had integrity and heart. He pushed her from her comfort zone, encouraged her to reach for more. But he respected her. He respected her choices, her feelings, and supported her decisions. Despite all his wealth, he was real, down-to-earth, sweet. A strength and masculinity ran through his core. They had a pure, intense connection. He made her feel alive, beautiful, precious.

Love was worth the fight, the fear.

A terrifying plan formed in her mind. What if he rejected her? She couldn't handle him turning on her in anger or coldness. Her chest ached, but she would fight for him. Brennan had wanted her, had needed her, which gave her hope.

The next morning, Freesia laid out her chosen flowers. Pink and two-toned carnations she chose to say, "I will never forget you" and "I cannot live without you". Purple hyacinth she chose to mean "please forgive me". White heather meant "wishes come true" and heliotrope meant "eternal love". Everything she hoped for and needed to say, she bound together.

In a card, she told him she loved him, needed him, and begged him to forgive her. If he could, she asked him to meet her at the pier at a certain time.

She parked outside his historic building. Her heart tripped with anxiety. Forcing her trembling hand to open the door, she clutched the arrangement to her chest and made her way across the street and inside. Her eyes darted around the lobby, but she didn't see him.

Approaching the reception desk, she met Laurie's gaze.

Laurie's face flushed. "Freesia, I'm sorry but Brennan's not in today."

"He told you to say that, didn't he?"

She grimaced. "I'm sorry."

"It's ok. I want to make a flower delivery." Freesia slid the heavy arrangement onto the desk.

"Oh. Um. I guess that would be ok. Except." Laurie's eyes looked everywhere but at her.

"He's up there, isn't he?"

"I'm sorry."

Freesia sighed. Then she saw him walking down the stairs with three other suits. Panic shot through her, freezing her thoughts. As he walked closer, she freaked and ducked behind the reception desk.

"Laurie, good afternoon."

"Hello, Mr. O'Hanrahan," Laurie chirped.

Freesia crept around the side of the desk as he approached. His shoes stopped at the edge of the desk, right in front of her. She inched backward and bumped Laurie's metal trashcan with a loud clang.

"Oh! Sorry, I kicked my trashcan!" Laurie shrieked.

Freesia cringed.

"Let me walk you out," Brennan said.

His shoes moved out of sight, and Freesia slumped with relief.

Laurie's face appeared beside her. "You better hurry." She handed over a visitor's lanyard.

"Thanks." Freesia picked up the arrangement and dashed for the stairs.

She hurried down the hall with her face covered by the flowers.

"Freesia?"

Drats! She slowed and turned. "Hi, Declan."

"Does Brennan know you're here?"

"Making a delivery," she said with a lift of the arrangement. Her heart pounded. "I'm in a bit of a hurry. Good to see you." She swiveled and continued toward Brennan's archway.

She'd probably have to get through Matilda, too.

Matilda eyed her with frost. "Freesia. This is a surprise."

"I'm making a flower delivery then I'll be gone."

"Do you have an appointment?"

"To leave flowers?"

Matilda sat back in her chair and smirked. "You could leave them with me. I'll make sure he gets them."

"The card is, um, personal."

"I thought so." She sat forward. "He doesn't want to see you. You've got nerve coming here."

Freesia's eyes filled with tears. "Please, Matilda. Let me leave the flowers."

Matilda's attention shifted to behind her.

"Freesia," his warm, deep voice mumbled her name.

She closed her eyes and turned to face Brennan in the archway. Two other men in suits waited beside him.

Matilda stood. "I asked if she had an appointment, sir."

His face held dark, hard, anger. "Do you have an appointment?"

Freesia's bottom lip trembled, and she bit it. "I wanted to leave flowers for you." She swallowed. "I see I made a mistake. I'll go."

She tried to move around him, but he grabbed her arm.

"I saw you downstairs."

She met his frigid gaze. "You did?"

"Why are you here?" Pain hummed through his voice, and he cleared his throat.

Mortification warmed her cheeks. She glanced at Matilda and the two men looking from her to Brennan with curiosity.

"Freesia." His grip on her arm tightened.

She took a deep breath and lifted her chin. "I know you have money and a fancy apartment and a mansion estate with a pool house bigger than my home." His eyes narrowed, and he dropped her arm. She rushed on. "I want you anyway. None of that matters if you care about me if I meant more to you than a three-month lesson."

Shoving the vase into his hands, she whipped past him and kept going. The next move was up to him.

She drove to the pier close to the time she had requested and waited.

First, she paced a while. She bought herself a giant pretzel. She paced some more, checked her phone for messages. She threw bits of pretzel to the birds. As the time came and went, her stomach clenched with fear.

She stood at the rail of the pier and stared at the horizon. He wasn't coming. She swiped at her tears. Five more minutes. She'd wait five more minutes.

Still, he didn't come.

Pulling her wrap tight around herself, she walked down the pier toward her car. Pounding noise brought her head up.

Brennan ran toward her, his heavy steps thundering against the wood planks. A smile flashed over her face with a surge of joy and relief. Their gazes locked, and radiant happiness lit his expression.

He didn't hesitate. Taking her face in his hands, he drew her close to meet his kiss. Her hands slipped up to his shoulders, and she clung to him as he tenderly kissed her.

He pulled back to look at her, and his thumbs wiped across her tears. The emotion in his face made her breath catch. "I got flowers that said you love me."

"I do. I love you." Her voice trembled over the words, and she took a deep breath. "I'm so sorry. I was scared, hurt, blind. But if you'll give me a chance, I'm ready to fight for us. I love the person you are. I love you, Brennan. So much that it terrifies me, but it makes me brave, too. I'll do whatever you need, learn whatever I must, if you can forgive me and love me."

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against him. She breathed in the scent of him, felt his warmth fill her. "I love you," he whispered, his voice raspy with emotion. "You mean everything to me. I tried to forget you, to move on, but I couldn't. Nothing matters without you, not the company, not my legacy. I'm an empty shell without you, existing but not alive. I'd give it all up to make you happy, but I'd rather share it, my life, with you. You've already proven yourself. At the gala, you were remarkable." His hold tightened around her, and his next words came out fierce. "I am proud of you. I love you, Freesia. I love the person you are, and I wouldn't change you for all the world." His sincerity broke through to her heart, and she believed him, believed he valued her and loved her for herself.

Reaching into his jacket pocket, he pulled out a wide, square box. "I'm sorry I couldn't get here sooner. I had to make a couple stops."

She stared at him, afraid to hope, to imagine. He flipped up the top of the box to reveal a perfect gardenia bloom nestled inside. A princess-cut emerald and diamond ring lay in the center of the bloom. She sucked in a breath and pressed her fingers against her lips to still their trembling.

"It's an heirloom passed to me through my grandmother. Do you like it?"

Her eyes flicked up to his. "It's beautiful."

His hands trembled as he slid the ring onto her finger. "I love you, Freesia. My life is incomplete without you. Will you marry me?"

"Yes!" She threw her arms around his neck. "Yes!"

"You and me. We make our world." He took her mouth in a warm, passionate kiss that promised her forever.

--------

The End

THANKS FOR READING Freesia and Brennan's story. Declan's story is coming right up!

---Annalise Whelan

# Don't miss out!

Click the button below and you can sign up to receive emails whenever Annalise Whelan publishes a new book. There's no charge and no obligation.

<https://books2read.com/r/B-A-JKII-LBWCB>

Connecting independent readers to independent writers.
Also by Annalise Whelan

O'Hanrahan Legacy

Romance Me with Flowers

Peacekeepers

Sunstar: Amina's Story

Fire Healer: Mara's Story

Glow Spark: Gem's Story

Standalone

The Lost Princess of Keros
