more just to be sure.
She was flushed and smiling. “I’m more than okay. I feel great about it. I know I was scared before, but I think hanging out with Heather and Jessie this weekend made me feel like moving forward isn’t going to be that scary. I’m not scared anymore. I’m really not.”
He leaned down to kiss her lightly. He wanted to do more, but they were in public, and there had to be limits. “Good.”
“Thank you for being so patient.”
“You don’t have to thank me. I haven’t done anything that any decent person wouldn’t have done.”
“Maybe. But I think you’re better than decent. I think you’re probably the best man I know.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. And I think...” She trailed off, her eyes suddenly dropping.
Ken’s breath hitched, and he raised her chin with his hand. “You think what?”
“I think I might... is it too soon to say... I...”
“You...” Ken was holding his breath again. He wouldn’t have believed this day could offer him anymore, but maybe it could.
“I might love you,” she burst out, her cheeks deeply pink. She’d dropped her eyes again.
He made a choking sound and pulled her into a hug. And it didn’t matter that they were on a downtown corner and their moment was probably being witnessed by half of Azalea. “It’s not too soon. It’s not anything close to too soon. Because, baby, I love you too.”
Epilogue
SIX MONTHS LATER, IT was spring, and the flowers were blooming in Ken’s neighborhood as Madeline drove over to his house on a Saturday night.
She was basically living with him now, although she hadn’t officially moved in. Her stuff was all still in her apartment, and she’d gone there during the day to get work done. Her work now was writing the poems and messages for Second Chance Flower Shop and doing her own writing. She’d quit her job at the library a couple of months ago, finally convinced that she no longer needed the safety net.
The change had freed up a lot of time and given her the energy to start working more purposefully on her own book. Unlike Josh, who’d always belittled or ignored her desire to write a book, Ken did nothing but encourage her. He hadn’t said a word of complaint when she’d told him she wanted to spend most of the day writing. Instead, he’d told her it was a good idea since she’d had a lot of inspiration lately. The only thing he’d added was to ask if she’d be done by the evening so they could have dinner together.
She’d run out of steam in the middle of the afternoon, so she’d rested a few hours at her place and then taken a shower and dressed up pretty for Ken since he’d said he was going to make dinner for them tonight.
She was smiling as she drove over. She loved the flowers in the spring. She’d loved the chapter of her book she’d almost finished today. And she loved Ken, and he was waiting for her right now.
Marlowe had been waiting too. He let out happy yips as she unlocked the door, and then he burst into a series of gleeful leaps and twirls as she stepped into the house. She leaned down to hug the dog and let him give her a few sloppy kisses before she straightened up, laughing and scratching behind his ears.
Ken came into the hall to greet her.
“Wow,” she said, her eyes widening at the sight of him in nice black trousers and a gray dress shirt. “You’re looking particularly scrumptious tonight.”
“Yeah?” His eyes were warm and fond as he pulled her into a hug and then a kiss.
“Yes. I’m glad I put on something decent.”
“You look beautiful.” It was very clear from his expression that he meant it.
He took her hand and pulled her into the dining room, which was lit with candles and beautifully set with purple gerbera daisies in a vase in the middle of the table. “Ken! It’s gorgeous. You really went all out.” Her heart was starting to race. It felt like something really good—important—might be happening.
“I did,” he admitted. “Is that okay?”
“Of course it’s okay.” She wrapped an arm around him, snuggling against his side as she asked, “What’s going on?”
He opened his mouth and then closed it again.
She pulled away to look up at him. “Ken?”
His mouth twisted almost sheepishly.
She sucked in a breath. “Are you nervous about something?”
“Course not.” He was lying, and he clearly knew she could see it.
Her heart