Page 75 of Romantic

“Way back then?” She asks, her eyes shining with tears.

“Way back then,” I repeat softly. “Don’t you see, Annie? You are the great love of my life.”

“And here I thought,” her voice wavers as a few tears lit by the morning sun slide down her cheeks, “I was the hopeless romantic.” She pulls me in for another dizzying kiss. Cars honk and shout cat calls. We ignore them all, kissing like we discovered it.

***

“When I think of how much time I spent trying to pick out the perfect outfit to wear when I next saw you . . .” Annie says as we both unload boxes. “And I’m wearing this.” She waves to her cut-off jeans and worn Norland Park t-shirt.

“You look beautiful, as always. And what about me? I’m wearing my rattiest t-shirt.”

“I like that shirt. It’s a bit faded, but you look good in it.”

“I’m glad you like it; it’s my favorite t-shirt, but Pepper told me I couldn’t wear it around you. In fact, this shirt is the reason I was shirtless when you came over for lunch that day?”

“You’re kidding!”

“I wish I was. She overheard something J.J. said about me looking good shirtless. So she told me I looked like a slob in it and made me take it off right before you arrived. I was so nervous for lunch to go well that I agreed to let her pick out a new shirt for me.”

“Well it worked.”

“Did it?”

“Yes, you answering the door in just an apron . . .” Annie waves a hand in front of her face. “It was all I could think about when we were locked up in that closet.”

“Pepper would be so pleased,” I say, grinning at her.

“We are never telling her,” Annie says, laughing. “Does she know that you asked me out?”

“Yes, and she’s very smug about it. She claims it’s all her doing.”

“That girl is too clever for her own good. When should we tell her?”

“About us? Oh I bet she’s been spying on us from my parents’ upstairs window. I don’t think we can—or need—to hide this from Pepper. You know she absolutely adores you.”

“The feeling is mutual.”

“Good—that was my number one requirement for dating someone. She has to love my daughter.”

“But I thought you weren’t planning on ever dating again,” Annie says with a cheeky grin.

“I wasn’t . . . and then I met you, and it occurred to me that if a woman already loved Pepper, then . . . maybe? And soon after that I started adding to the list. It got very specific. By the end she needed to grow flowers, play piano, have red hair, and be named Annie Greenwood.”

***

Somehow between a lot of laughter and kisses, we get Annie moved into her new place. I have a hard time believing this is real. Annie now lives on my street.

“So tell me about this job,” I say, taking another slice of the pizza we had delivered after we unpacked most of the boxes.

Annie’s eyes light up. “I applied for so many jobs, but this was the one I was most excited for. I really think I’m going to like it. The owner is perfectly lovely. I sent her photos of my work around the park, and she loved my style. We just really clicked. And she told me she’s thinking of selling in a few years, so who knows? Maybe someday I could have my own shop. That would give me enough time to learn more about the business side of things.

“It sounds perfect for you.”

“You said it yourself: I’m happiest when I’m surrounded by flowers. And Elinor agreed to let me continue doing the flowers at Norland Park. I think I can do it with a visit once a week. And I’m thinking someday Norland Park could expand to weddings. What do you think?”

“I think you have a real talent. It was your flower boxes that convinced Pepper that we had to visit Norland Park.”

“She told me. What if she never saw that photo? Then you would have never visited or bought the park. Lady Whimple would already be cut down.”