The Wedding Gift

EPILOGUE

EPILOGUE

As the florist at The Rose Chalet, Phoebe Davis's job on the day of a wedding was always multilayered. She kept an eye on the floral arrangements and changed out blooms if they began to wilt. But she was also happy to lend a hand serving food and drinks, or to root through Anne's sewing kit if the bride or bridesmaids' dresses needed a touch-up. She would even help Tyce with the sound check of his equipment.

For the Kyle wedding, though, things were a little different. For one thing, there was no need to help serve dinner because everyone was serving themselves from one of the food trucks that had been parked around the edge of the property. Idly, Phoebe wondered which had been harder, talking the owners of the food trucks into spending their day working at a wedding venue, or talking the owner of The Rose Chalet, Rose Martin, into letting it happen.

Rose had been the tougher sell, Phoebe decided, noting that she was currently watching over the proceedings like a hawk.

She followed Rose's gaze out to the dance floor where Andrew Kyle and Julie Delgado were dancing-and laughing-together. Phoebe was happy for her friend. After all, who wouldn't want to date a gorgeous guy like Andrew? She wished Julie all the luck in the world.

It was just... Phoebe couldn't help the slight twinge of cynicism she felt at seeing them pressed so close together out there on the dance floor.

No, not cynicism.

Realism.

If true love was real and couples stayed together forever, that would be great. But that wasn't how things actually worked out.

Phoebe shook her head slightly, only too aware that as the florist for so many weddings she shouldn't think like that. She knew most people thought florists were hopeless romantics, all obsessed with the thought of true love and finding Mr. Right who would bring her roses every day for the rest of her life.

But all she needed to do was look at the facts. However happily the bride and groom looked at each other on their wedding day, the statistics were clear: it was a fifty-fifty shot whether they would still be married just three years later. Believing that you'd found true love was as crazy as being certain the lottery ticket you'd just bought was going to be the big winner.

You could be as certain as you wanted; but it didn't change the facts.

Not that Phoebe would ever express such thoughts to her friends at The Rose Chalet-or, God forbid, to Rose herself.

Phoebe picked a white rose out of one of her own displays and let the scent of it drift over her. Forget Mr. Right. What was wrong with Mr. Right Now? How about being honest with herself and having a little fun?

Relationships were like the flower she held. Right now it was beautiful. Perfect. Pristine. With an incredibly beautiful scent.

But in a day or two, it would wilt and end up on one of RJ's compost heaps.

To Phoebe's mind, people who thought they would be the exception as far as the longevity of their relationship was concerned were simply deluding themselves, however much they believed otherwise.

"Would you like to dance?"

Phoebe turned to see a man with broad shoulders and handsome, square-jawed good looks. He reminded her a little of someone, though she couldn't quite place who.

"I'm Patrick," he said with a slightly crooked smile that did funny things to her insides.

As she'd just pointed out to herself, why bother with Mr. Right when Mr. Right Now was standing in front of her, gorgeous, available, and asking her to dance? A little short-term distraction was just what she needed.

"It's a shame to have great live music like this and not have the prettiest woman in the room dancing."

He didn't wait for Phoebe to reply, but instead twirled her into his arms. And such nicely muscular arms they were.

Yes, this was exactly the kind of guy she could have a fun fling with, especially since he seemed to be as willing to act on impulse as she was. Guys like him always understood how the game was played and, fortunately, didn't go around asking for more than they were willing to give.

"You still haven't told me your name," Patrick pointed out. "Or should I just go on calling you the prettiest girl in the room?"

It had possibilities, but still, she smiled up at him. "Phoebe. And I'm fairly sure you're supposed to say that the bride is the best-looking woman in the room."

Her voice wasn't usually this breathless. Then again, she didn't often see such available, good-looking men at a Rose Chalet wedding...much less dance with them.

"She does look good, but every woman looks beautiful on her wedding day."

Uh-oh.

"You like weddings?" Phoebe asked.

"Who doesn't? Two people making that commitment to one another is so important. We should celebrate it more often."

Oh, wonderful. Mr. Gorgeous was a romantic. Of all the guys in the room, she had to attract the one with hearts in his eyes.

When they ended the dance in front of RJ, Phoebe finally put two and two together. No wonder Patrick looked so familiar.

"You're brothers, aren't you?"

RJ grinned. "Yes, but he's the brains of the family."

"I'm in town doing the designs for a new house," Patrick explained with a smile.

But Phoebe didn't feel like smiling back. Not when she now knew that Patrick wasn't just a weekend wedding guest. He was someone who was going to be in town for however long his building project lasted.

Phoebe quickly made an excuse about needing to check the flowers. She wasn't sure if either of them believed her. The only thing she was absolutely, positively, sure of was that she had just spent the past few minutes dancing with the worst possible guy for her. Thank God, she hadn't been foolish enough to chat him up and arrange to go on a date with him.

She was definitely not looking for any kind of commitment.

But as she walked away she felt the intensity of his dark gaze on her from across the room. A shiver worked its way up her spine and told her resistance might not be quite so easy this time.

~ THE END ~