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pushed the finished watering can arrangement aside. “Where were you?”
    “Bowling.”
    “By yourself?”
    “No.” She plucked the wilted blooms out of a container and tossed them into the garbage. “With Andrew Garrett.”
    Holly frowned. “Sexy White Roses Guy?”
    Rachel nodded.
    “The one with the wedding ring on his finger?” her friend pressed.
    “He’s widowed.”
    “Oh.” Holly considered for a minute. “How long?”
    “Three years.”
    “And he still wears the ring?”
    Rachel shrugged.
    Holly counted out eight white lilies. “I didn’t know you bowled.”
    “I don’t.”
    “So how did this come about?”
    “We were both at Valentino’s for eat-in takeout, and the next thing I knew, I was wearing ugly shoes.”
    “That’s probably why you don’t bowl,” Holly noted. “The shoes offend your impeccable sense of style.”
    “And yet, I had a good time.”
    “Because you enjoyed the game—or because you enjoyed being with Sexy White Roses Guy?”
    “He is sexy,” Rachel acknowledged. “And charming and interesting and funny.”
    “Uh-oh.”
    She frowned. “Uh-oh—what?”
    “One date and you’re falling for him already.”
    “It wasn’t a date and I’m not falling for him.”
    Holly didn’t look convinced. “I’m all for you finally ending your ridiculous dating hiatus, but I don’t want you getting hung up on somebody else who isn’t available.”
    “I’m not hung up on him.”
    “You went bowling with him—and you don’t bowl.”
    Rachel sighed. “Our options were limited.”
    “Did he kiss you?”
    “It wasn’t a date.”
    “That wouldn’t stop most guys I know from making a move,” her friend noted. “Then again, most guys I know don’t wear wedding bands—even the ones who are married.”
    Rachel waited until her friend finished then she said, “Actually, I kissed him.”
    “What?”
    “It was a thank-you,” she explained. “An impulse.”
    “Was there tongue?”
    She rolled her eyes. “I touched my lips to his cheek.”
    “Oh.” Holly sounded disappointed. “I’m not sure that even counts as a kiss.”
    “Then I guess I didn’t kiss him.”
    “When you kissed him, did you feel those little flutters in your belly?”
    “Make up your mind—did I kiss him or not?”
    “That depends on whether or not there were flutters.”
    There had been definite flutters, and her heart had raced and her knees had gone weak. But she wasn’t prepared to admit any of that to her friend.
    “Customer,” she said, when the bell over the door jangled.
    “We’re not done with this conversation,” Holly warned.
    But more customers kept her busy in the front of the shop so that Holly was unable to continue her interrogation. And when Rachel left work at two o’clock, she was confident that she’d kept the truth about her feelings for Andrew Garrett to herself.

Chapter Three
    S aturday afternoon, Andrew was in his home workshop assembling a sideboard when his middle brother stopped by.
    Nathan walked around the piece, giving it a thorough examination. “Nice—but not your usual style.”
    “It’s for Ed and Carol’s dining room.” The Wakefields were his in-laws—or maybe they were former in-laws. Andrew wasn’t sure if the death of his wife changed the relationship between himself and her parents. Either way, they were still his daughter’s grandparents.
    “Don’t they know that you’re the VP of Product Research and Design for a multibillion-dollar furniture company now and not just a carpenter?”
    “I’m still a carpenter,” Andrew insisted. “A fancy title doesn’t change that.”
    “And a damn good one,” Nate agreed, continuing his inspection of the work. “Is this an original design?”
    He nodded. “Ed wanted something special for Carol, for their fortieth anniversary.”
    “When’s that?”
    “Not until October. But I had the time now, so I figured I’d get started.”
    “Mom and Dad’s fortieth is in May,” Nathan