“Or I do, and that’s why it’s my job to reassure you it’s gonna be fine.”

I gave him a look, fond and teasing, as I changed the subject. “Are you going to shower or show up shirtless and musky?”

He hooked my neck and brought my nose into his sweaty chest, my squealing and wiggling doing absolutely nothing to ease his grip. It was like trying to fight my way out of a giant’s fist.

“You like my musky shirtlessness.”

I swatted at him blindly, giggling. “I do, but not for a business meeting.”

He kissed the top of my head and let me go. “I’ll swing by the house and shower.” He met my mighty frown with a sideways smile. “Seriously, don’t worry. Give me ten minutes—I’ll be ready to roll and musk-free, on time and as promised.”

I eyed him. “A ten-minute shower?”

“No, a four-minute shower and six minutes to pick out my outfit.”

I followed him toward the door, calling my goodbye at Dad over my shoulder.

When we stepped out, I asked, “How do you take a shower in under five minutes?”

He shrugged, stuffing the hem of his shirt into his back pocket rather than putting it on. “Any longer than that, and you’re just masturbating.”

A laugh burst past my lips.

We trotted down the stairs, leaving the little elevator for old Mrs. Reynolds upstairs and Dad.

“You nervous?” he asked as we stepped out into the heat.

“Are you kidding? I had a nightmare last night that all the flowers died overnight, and the editor laughed us out of town.”

He chuckled. “She’s just coming to look around. Don’t worry, Tess.”

“You keep saying that like it’s actually going to make me stop worrying.”

Luke grabbed my hand, looking down at me with that smile of his, the one that made it seem like nothing could ever go wrong, nothing in the whole world.

“Do you trust me?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

I sighed. “I do.”

“Then let me worry for the both of us.”

He squeezed my hand, which was lost somewhere inside of his. And for a second, I did.

We kissed goodbye at his front stoop, and he darted up the stairs and disappeared inside. As for me, well, I headed into the shop and immediately started worrying again. I worried over the installation. I worried over the front display table. I worried over the arrangement I’d started with the full intent of finishing it only once I had an audience. Ivy watched me, teased me a little, but let me fuss.

It just made me feel better. Idle hands and all that.

Twelve minutes later, Luke was downstairs, his black hair damp and rutted from his fingers. When he kissed me, he smelled like soap and tasted like mint, and the combination made me wish he were shirtless again.

But alas, the bell over the door rang. And when we turned, it was to find a woman who seemed only a little older than us, looking smart in a pencil skirt and tailored shirt, assistant at her side.