Free A Bouquet of Love by Janice Thompson

would have to know my deep, dark secret. For now, though, I would keep it to myself. Why ruin a new friendship on the very first day?
    â€œSpeaking of being offended, I might as well give it to you straight. Being in Texas is quite a wake-up call,” Bella said. “I know this from my own experience. You’ll have a thousand opportunities to get offended. You can’t take anything personally, especially if it’s spoken by someone with a Texas drawl.”
    â€œWhat do you mean?”
    â€œWell, for instance, you absolutely can’t be offended if someone calls you ‘honey’ or ‘sweetie.’”
    â€œIt took me a while to get used to that too,” Marcella said.
    â€œAunt Rosa hated it at first, but now she calls everyone ‘honey’ or ‘sweetie.’” Bella laughed.
    â€œExcept Uncle Laz.” A familiar male voice sounded from the door, and I looked over and saw that Alex had entered the shop with a bucketful of roses. “She’s got a few other choice names for him. He tends to run on the hot-tempered side at times.”
    I’d seen that firsthand in the middle of the street during the photo shoot.
    Alex’s comment clued me in to the fact that he was a Rossi too. Maybe not by blood, but he knew the Rossi family well enough to say something like that about Rosa and Laz.
    Man. Was everyone on the island connected . . . except me?
    â€œSo you’re all friends?” I gestured from Alex to Bella to Marcella, then back to Alex again.
    â€œSure.” He nodded. “I was supplying flowers to Bella and her family before they switched the name of the business to Club Wed. We’ve known ’em forever. Our families go way back.”
    â€œOf course, we’ve got the Splendora connection too,” Bella said. “Gotta factor that in.”
    I didn’t have a clue what all of this stuff about Splendora had to do with anything but just offered a shrug.
    â€œCassia’s on a learning curve,” Marcella explained. “She’s from California.”
    â€œSanta Cruz,” I said.
    â€œWell, things are probably a little different here.” Alex gave me a wink.
    â€œNo joke.” I could lay out some of the differences, but I didn’t want to run the risk of offending anyone by glowing about the home I missed so much.
    â€œMaybe you should look at what the two have in common,” Alex said.
    â€œLike . . . ?”
    â€œLike, both are coastal towns, right?” Alex said. “Can’t be all that different.”
    â€œOh, but it is,” I countered. “Have you ever seen the blue waters of the Pacific? The Gulf of Mexico doesn’t begin to compare. What color do you call that water, anyway?”
    I fought the temptation to go off on a tangent, and all the more as Alex and Marcella began to brag about Galveston’s newest attraction, Pleasure Pier. Clearly they had never been to the boardwalk in Santa Cruz or they wouldn’t waste theirbreath. And they’d obviously never seen a true coastal area, one complete with mountains and redwood trees, carved into a beautifully scenic landscape edged up to vibrant blue waters.
    When they finished their lengthy, glowing report about Texas, I just shrugged.
    Bella laughed. “Give her a break, y’all. She’s only been on the island a few weeks. It takes time to win people over.”
    â€œBut if you’re not that keen on Texas, why come?” Alex’s question seemed genuine enough.
    â€œI, um . . . well, I moved here after someone in the family made an impulsive decision. Let’s just leave it at that.” Biting back a sigh, I offered a little smile.
    â€œWell, God bless whoever made the impulsive decision then.” He gave me another wink, which sent tingles all the way down to my toes. If all Texans were as welcoming as this guy, I might be swept away after all.
    â€œBesides, if anyone