Page 67 of Coming Up Roses

My eyes connect with Flynn’s and by the colour in his cheeks and the way his pupils are blown wide, I can guess he’s thinking about the same things I am.

I need to be professional here. He asked me to forget, to pretend it didn’t happen. He’s my friend and I don’t want him to feel weird around me. I don’t want him to think I’m some horny little hussy just after a good time with him. I mean, I am, but I also want to keep this little baby friendship intact. I need to, because in Kauri Creek, Flynn is currently the only friend I have.

There’s Dallas, I suppose, but it feels like we have too much history for our relationship to ever feel like it’s on equal footing again.

I know Flynn’s loyalties lie with the other people atWildflower Ridge, they’re his family after all, but I like what we have. I like spending time with him.

Most importantly, I just like him.

I’ve missed him since that day on the beach.

I haven’t encountered many people like Flynn in recent years. The ones I’ve spent time with have all been jaded and bitter about life, or too serious and uptight. But Flynn is none of those things.

He’s sunshine and freedom, like riding down a beach on the back of a dirt bike. He’s smiles and jokes and constant positive energy, even though he’d be well within his rights to feel sorry for himself with what life’s thrown his way.

I slide onto the bike behind him, careful to limit contact between our bodies. I’m wearing a sweatshirt and I slip my hands into the sleeves before carefully grasping Flynn’s hips. Shielding my hands with my sweatshirt was a completely pointless exercise because I can still feel the heat of him burning through my fingertips.

“You ready to go?” Flynn twists his head around to check I’m situated, before starting the bike.

“Yep, all good,” I say, trying to sound casual but failing. I sound like I’ve spent the last five minutes choking. Oh, that’s not an image I need in my head right now.

Flynn’s hand lands on my thigh, just above my knee. One simple touch and I want to swoon. “You don’t feel like you’re holding on,” he says as his hand slides higher. Right before he reaches the swell of my ass, he applies pressure and tugs me forward.

I don’t realise what he’s doing until it’s too late and my chest is pressed up against his back, legs bracketing his.

“Better,” Flynn says. “Now, hold on properly.”

I sigh, but wrap my arms around him, leaning my head against his shoulder. “Let’s go,” I say.

Flynn pats my arm where it rests across his stomach. “Don’t worry, Rosie. The flowers will get done. I promise.”

Rosie … That’s new. I’ve noticed Flynn loves a nickname though, calling everyone on the farm some cute version of their name. I guess this flower disaster just got me mine.

I squeeze my arms around him a little tighter. I appreciate his optimism, I just don’t see how it’s actually going to happen.

Lunch is the usual,chaotic affair. Violet’s made scones and there’s sandwich fillings spread across the table, including the delicious bread from the local cafe and bakery, Sugar. That place is my favourite in Kauri Creek. I’ve been finding myself in there on too many mornings to grab a coffee. But spending a few minutes sitting in the bright, airy space admiring the rows of delicious treats lined up within the cabinet is no hardship. There’s pastries and slices, filled rolls and sandwiches, and of course the quintessential Kiwi pies and sausage rolls.

Then there’s the cupcakes and, on the odd occasion, small cakes. They’re like little works of art with swirled frosting and shimmery accents. Colours that would be right at home in the world of My Little Pony. I haven’t actually eaten one yetbecause my coffee stops are all early morning and it doesn’t seem like the right time to be eating a cupcake like that.

“I love this bread so much,” I say to Violet as she passes a wooden chopping board down the table to me. I take a couple of slices and pass it along to Flynn, who’s fallen into the seat beside me.

Dallas is nowhere to be seen, but Katie and Olivia are across from us, their mouths full of food.

“It’s from Sugar,” Violet says. “Have you been there yet?”

I snort. “Almost every day. It’s kind of embarrassing actually.”

“Nah, that’s accurate. I go there every time I go to town,” Katie says after swallowing her mouthful. “It’s the best place in Kauri Creek, second only to Wildflower Ridge.” She shoots Olivia a wink. Olivia rolls her eyes. “Those cupcakes they do now are to die for.”

“Cupcakes?” Flynn asks, interest suddenly piqued. He’d tuned out for a little bit there.

“Yeah. Like these incredible lemon ones. And the chocolate ones.” She makes a humming noise. “So good. Were they your mum’s? They definitely weren’t grandma’s.”

I blink as my brain takes a moment to catch up. Whose mum? Are we talking about Katie’s grandma? Why would they be her cupcakes?

Flynn shrugs beside me. “Don’t know. I don’t remember her doing cupcakes but maybe.” He focuses on making his sandwich, effectively removing himself from the conversation I’m still not following.

Violet must see it, because she fills in thegaps. “Flynn’s mum used to own Sugar.” She shoots a look in Flynn’s direction, sympathy and sadness all wrapped up in one brief glance, then she returns her focus to me. “After she passed, Katie’s grandma took it over. She used a lot of Isla’s recipes, that were then passed onto the current owner.”