But this time? Right now? This would be different. Quitting wasn’t an option, and giving up wasn’t on the table. It was do or die. And I was prepared to ride or die.

It was why we’d all come home, and our future was at stake. Our family was at stake. And one thing I would never walk away from was my family.

“Hey,” a gentle voice said from behind me.

I started at the sound, so lost in my thoughts, I hadn’t heard Tess approach.

She chuckled. “Sorry to scare you. I … I just wanted to say thank you. For suggesting that I take on so much responsibility.”

“You act like you haven’t been running the shop for years.”

I noticed her cheeks flush, even in the dark shop. “Maybe, but I’m not a Bennet. I feel lucky to even be included in these kinds of meetings.”

I turned to face her, pinning her with a look I hoped communicated my earnestness. “Tess, you are as much a part of this family as anyone. You have been Mom’s hands for years. She taught you everything she knew, and then you did the unthinkable—you surpassed her.”

Tess drew a shallow breath.

“Don’t you dare tell my mother I said that.”

Her surprise left her on a laugh.

“This store is just as much yours as it is ours. More maybe. Other than Kash, you’re the only one who didn’t leave. So please, don’t thank me. It’s me who should be thanking you.”

She watched me for a moment with a smile on her lips. “Well, how about that? Ivy was right.”

I frowned. “Right about what?”

“Maybe you aren’t such a dick after all.”

Laughter shot out of me, a little too loud and completely unbridled. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Tess.”

She shrugged a small shoulder, smiling sideways as she turned to walk away. But as she left, she looked back over her shoulder. “Really, Luke, thank you.”

I slipped my hands into the pockets of my jeans. “You’re welcome,” was all I could say.

Surprise had otherwise rendered me speechless.

7

Princes and Pirates

TESS

It took entirely too long to decide what to wear to paint a flower shop.

Clothes lay in a heaping pile to rival Everest, so many that a glance into my gaping closet showed little more than hangers. In my defense, I had a lot of needs to fill—must be old and-or disposable enough to get paint on them, must be appropriate for climbing ladders, and most importantly, must be adorable.

If my ass was going to be in Luke Bennet’s eyeline all day, it’d better look good.

I shifted three-quarters, inspecting my reflection. Auburn hair in a messy bun, bangs thick and shaggy, a blue bandana tied in a band with the knot on top. Mom’s old Cure T-shirt, dotted with paint from my bathroom when she’d painted it years ago. I’d knotted the hem to make it look fitted, cuffed the sleeves to put them at a modern length. And I topped it off with a pair of overall shorts because that seemed too obvious to pass up. My face was fresh and untouched by makeup, but I wasn’t so confident that I was willing to ignore mascara.