Free Flowers on the Water by Helen Scott Taylor Page B

do? This was her week in Beach View. It had been for the last ten years. Dominic had no right to walk back into her life and steal her week.
    She pivoted around, taut and ready to argue her case. He beat her to it.
    "Stay, Lucy. The place is big enough for both of us." He smiled, his reasonable smile, a smile that belied the hell he'd put her through.
    She had long ago forgiven him for George's death. That had been an accident, and she should never have blamed him. But he had no excuse for writing about it, for making her relive the nightmare a second time. As long as she lived, she would never forgive Dominic for his damned book.
    "I don't want to stay here with you."
    He shrugged. "It's that or find somewhere else. I'm not leaving."
    Lucy gritted her teeth.
    "I'll keep out of your way, Luce. We don't even have to talk much if you don't want to."
    "I don't."
    "Okay, then." He stepped aside and waved a hand, ushering her into the cottage.
    "Okay." Lucy pressed her lips into a tight line, scooped up her lilies, and strode in. She could do this. She would simply ignore him.
    Sun shone through the large picture window at the front of the living room, casting a warm glow over the exposed stone walls and beamed ceiling. A new modern kitchenette filled one end of the open downstairs area.
    Lucy placed the lilies on the kitchen counter and searched the cupboards for a vase. Without a word, Dominic emptied some silk flowers out of a tall glass vase on the windowsill and presented it to her.
    She met his gaze, held it, a wary moment of accord passing between them. "Thanks." She filled the vase and placed the lilies in the water, still wrapped in their cellophane.
    "I'm in the large bedroom at the front," he said.
    The double bedroom, the one they had shared all those years ago. Unwanted memories washed through her mind, lying tangled with Dominic in that bed, warm and safe in his arms. She pushed the thoughts away.
    "I'm fine in the single." She didn't tell him she always slept in the single bed in the back bedroom. She could not bring herself to even glance in the double bedroom, let alone sleep in the bed.
    "Do you have a suitcase?"
    "I'll get it." Lucy left her handbag on the kitchen counter and headed out to her van. Dominic followed. "You don't need to come," she said over her shoulder.
    He mounted the steps behind her and halted at the gate, leaving her to go to her van alone. She eyed the expensive car in her parking space with a cynical twist of her lips. He'd obviously moved on from the frugal lifestyle the two of them had shared—probably with the profits from his wretched book.
    She pulled her bag from the rear of her vehicle, slammed the door, and paused with her palm splayed on the colorful logo, "Lucy's Flower Hut—Wedding and Celebration flowers a specialty." She had forged a new life for herself, come a long way since she enrolled in a floristry course at her local college. It was strange to think that had George lived, she would not have started her business. She would probably still be living in Dominic's shadow, the pretty little airhead who got pregnant and ruined the prospects of a bright boy.
    "Do you enjoy what you do?" Dominic asked, nodding at the sign on her van. "I don't remember you being especially interested in flowers."
    "People change." She didn't want to discuss her business with him. Floristry was her post-Dominic life, her refuge from the memories. She didn't want him connected with it in any way.
    As she went through the gate, he took her suitcase. It was second nature to let him. He was halfway down the steps before she remembered that she'd intended to carry the bag herself.
    With a sigh, she followed him back inside the cottage and up the stairs. He placed her case on the foot of the single bed in the back bedroom. Lucy glanced around at the small framed watercolor prints and the pine furniture. This bedroom had become familiar over the years. It almost felt like a home away from home. She