let me get her a slice on the way home. Not that it took much convincing—pizza was her number one craving. I swore she was going to actually birth a pizza roll or a giant pepperoni. Or just a chubby little baby with doughy thighs and cheeks to pinch and fawn over.
And with that thought putting the first genuine smile on my face of the day, I walked toward the turquoise door of Longbourne and stepped inside, greeted by the dinging of the ancient bell over the door.
It really was something, what they’d done with the place. I’d been in and out of the shop since we were teenagers, when Ivy started working here. It used to be drab and dark, untouched by time, but when the Bennet children came home last summer, they came home with purpose. The makeover was brilliant—the shop was bright and cheerful, the windows inviting with gorgeous installations that had become a Village spectacle. I’d seen the crowds waiting on Sunday morning for the unveiling, and I’d heard from Ivy about the massive increase in business.
I was honestly happy to help by bringing them the wedding business I had to offer even if it was risky and even if I’d been a monster about it. As a rule, Archer Events used Bower Bouquets, but I’d gone over Addison’s head, taking it straight to Caroline, who had agreed, loving the charm of the small shop and their greenhouse. I found I much preferred the one-on-one interaction I had with Longbourne. I never saw the same florist twice at Bower. Here, I felt like Longbourne was part of my team. Granted, my sister worked here, but still. It was nice using a small business, and it helped the flower shop make their money. Thus helping my sister make hers. Everybody won.
My heels were noisy on the black-and-white-tiled floor, the shop still busy with the rush hour crowd looking to grab something on their way home. I waved at Jett behind the counter, one of the beautiful Bennet men, and he offered me one of their signature smirks, a cavalier tilt of wide lips.
They were shockingly handsome, the whole lot of them—tall and raven-haired, crisp blue eyes and solid frames, square jaws and brilliant smiles. My favorite of those smiles wasn’t Luke’s, who took nothing seriously, or Jett’s, who seemed to be just being kind. It wasn’t Marcus either, as hard-won as those smiles were—he was a little too brooding for my taste. I preferred a man with the serious air of Marcus but the charm like Luke.
Which was Kassius Bennet.
As much as I hated to admit it, he really did have the best smile, and I felt like Goldilocks about it—not too happy, not too quiet. Not too forthcoming and not too shy. His was just right—a perfect mix of quiet weight and wry humor. It was a smile of secrets and surprises.
Your blood sugar must be low, I scolded myself. Waxing poetic about the gardener? Get yourself a slice of pizza before you do something stupid.
I saw him the second I stepped into the workspace, before my sister, before Tess. He leaned against the worktable with his enormous arms folded across his wide chest. He seemed the ideal blend of the Bennet qualities, from his stupid, irreverent T-shirts to his unflappable, solid support. Granted, his T-shirts were a little more bearable since seeing him fill out tailored clothes so nicely. Nicely enough that I’d made excuses to get him to come to a few venues in the hopes he’d show up in a tie. He cleaned up well, though his jaw, which had been smooth and clean just a few days ago, was already smattered in dark, thick stubble. I wondered what he’d look like with a full-blown beard, imagining it would be as lustrous and luxuriant as his hair. I wanted him to shave his face and cut his hair just as badly as I wanted him to let it run wild despite my wishes.
Today, his shirt read, Sow Cool, bordered with a silhouette of wheat beneath it.
I wanted to laugh, but then our gazes tangled, and I forgot what was so funny.
Something had changed in him over the last week or so, something I couldn’t place. Something about his eyes or the set of his lips that smoldered serious. I’d caught a glimpse of it when he’d asked me about relationships—a personal tone we sadly hadn’t slipped into since—but today, the expression was unprompted,