Chapter One

            "My client has decided not to make an offer on your floral business."
            Jayne Rose thanked the realtor and hung up, but her stomach churned with angst.
            Lord, how am I going to help Granny Em?
            The doorbell interrupted her silent plea. She shoved the sturdy frames of her glasses an inch higher on her nose and peered through the thick lenses at her newest customer.
            "Welcome to Rose's Roses. Can I help you?"
            "I'm not sure," the man said. "Your window display intrigued me. I'm kind of a window shopper."
            "Ah." I don't have time.
            "I'm thinking Easter lilies," he mused. "A friend loves spring, though the Palm Springs ' version isn't exactly what she was used to in England."
            "Well, it's a bit early for potted Easter lilies," Jayne explained. "But I could make up an arrangement." She grabbed an order form. "Name?"
            "Well, I'm not sure--" He peered at the orchids Jayne had unpacked late last night. "Those are amazing. Maybe I should--"
            "Would you like a minute?" she offered with a desperate glance at the clock.
            "At least a minute," he agreed, but his gaze rested on her.
            "I'll finish some errands while you decide. Call when you're ready." Jayne stepped inside the cooler, anxious to finish her wedding order.
            But she couldn't dismiss the man in the shop so easily. Through the glass walls she saw him perusing her stock. He was tall and lean, muscular, but not bulky. His dark brown eyes studied the bucket of roses intently while he tilted back on his heels. Jayne immediately labeled him artistic, though she couldn't have explained why. Perhaps it was the easy way he moved, as if he was totally comfortable with himself.
            Jayne had never managed to achieve that ease, not since the accident.
            Stop staring and concentrate. She consulted her list. Everything was almost ready for delivery, only a few more tweaks. She'd barely finished gathering what she needed when the shop's bell rang again.
            So he'd left. She ignored her disappointment and took her time selecting the best blooms. Even though the money she'd make on this wedding was minimal, Jayne believed every bride deserved a beautiful wedding. Just because this bride didn't have a lot of money didn't mean Rose's Roses would skimp.
            She had one foot out of the cooler when she heard voices.
            "Jayne's the most perfect florist. I'm not like her other clients, you know. I haven't got a bundle of cash to spend on my wedding, but Jayne doesn't care. She pours her soul into everything she does. I'll hate it if this place has to close."
            Jayne grinned at the glowing tribute. LouAnne was such a sweetheart. Jayne stepped around the corner with a smile on her lips, and faltered to a stop.
            Apparently her earlier customer thought Lou was pretty special, too. He was staring at her as if he'd never get a second chance. Jayne didn't blame him. Lucky LouAnne didn't have scars on her arms. Nor did she need big thick glasses to focus.          
            "Hey, Jayne."
            "Hey, yourself. Aren't you supposed to be at home, dressing in all that ivory and lace?" For a minute Jayne worried LouAnne was having bridal jitters. She censured the thought. Lou was committed and confident. Her marriage would be solid and happy.
            Jayne quashed a rush of longing to be in love like that.
            "I would be dressing," Lou said, "but I just found out my bridesmaid wrecked her gown. Now she's wearing green instead of blue. Here, I brought a piece of the fabric." She held it out. "I snipped it off her hem when she wasn't looking. Can we change the ribbons in the flowers?"
            Jayne stifled a groan. Changes at this stage meant even more time spent on a not very profitable order, which was okay, but there was still that quilter's convention tomorrow to prepare for.
            "I'm asking too much of you." LouAnne's pretty face fell.
            "Of course you're not. You go home. I'll handle everything." Jayne plucked the fabric from Lou's fingers and pushed her toward the door. "Move it, lady, or you'll be late for your own wedding. I'll have everything at the church before you get there."
            "See what I mean? She's a blessing," Lou said over one shoulder to the man who stood watching them. She paused long enough to hug Jayne. Then she hurried away, glowing with the radiance of a bride-to-be.
            "It's not going to be quite as simple as you said, is it?" His quiet question broke the silence.
            "It will be very not-simple," Jayne agreed. "But it will happen." She began the delicate process of unweaving the blue ribbon from the arrangement she'd just finished.
            "Can I help?" he offered. "I promise I'll try my best not to wreck your flowers."
            "I'm sure you don't want--"
            "I'd really like to help, if you'll allow me." The firm response combined with the rich glow of his dark brown eyes sent a powerful message. "By the way, I'm Ben. Ben Cummings." He held out a hand.
            "Jayne Rose," she said as his strong fingers enclosed hers.
            "Of Rose's Roses." He grinned.
            He really was the most handsome man. Sprinkles of sunlight dappled the sandy strands that flopped across his forehead and framed those amazing eyes, brown with a capital B. He wore knee-length shorts and a polo shirt and both of them fit like a custom-tailored glove, as elegant as any Hollywood visitor to Palm Springs .
            "Let me help, Jayne."
            She thought about it for two seconds. Help was good. Help was exactly what she'd been praying for.
         ***