Free Full Bloom by Jayne Ann Krentz Page A

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    S omewhat to her surprise, Emily enjoyed the next few days. She began anticipating Jacob's arrival at the shop at lunch and again after work. He seemed contented to occupy himself during the hours when she was busy and eager to spend every available minute with her when she was not. He even offered to give her and Diane a hand around the shop and showed a surprising interest in the flowers being arranged and sold.
    On at least two occasions during a customer rush, Jacob made cross-town deliveries using Emily's little station wagon. The first time he returned to the shop with a huge grin on his face. It was so strange to see him with such an expression that Emily stared at him in utter confusion.
    "What happened?" she demanded.
    He pulled two dollar bills out of his pocket and proudly displayed them on the counter. "I got a tip. The lady was so thrilled that someone had sent her flowers that she tipped the guy who delivered them. By the time I realized what was happening, she'd already closed the door."
    Emily echoed his grin. "You see, not everyone wants to kill the messenger. The trick is to bring flowers instead of depressing news."
    Jacob looked down at her. "I'll remember that." It was a promise.
    Before Emily could think of a response, Jacob had walked into the small room at the back of the shop where boxes of fresh-cut flowers had recently been stacked by the wholesaler. He was familiar with the routine now, and Emily heard him go to work unpacking the flowers. She smiled to herself, thinking of how carefully he handled the delicate product she sold. There was no danger to the blooms when they were in Jacob's strong hands.
    She had a fleeting image of him holding a baby as tenderly as he held a bunch of orchids and quickly put the picture out of her mind. The last thing she wanted to do at this stage was to look into the future.
    Diane found Jacob and his steady pursuit of Emily vastly amusing.
    "The man's falling all over himself trying to please you," she told Emily one morning before Jacob arrived. "It's so sweet. And such an excellent position in which to have a man. I love to see them panting like that. When are you going to start being nice to him?"
    Emily blinked in astonishment. She paused in the middle of attaching a purple-and-white tulip to an invisible wire that would hold it in position in the arrangement she was creating. "What on earth are you talking about? I am nice to him."
    "I mean, when are you going to put him out of his misery and go to bed with him?" Diane explained with mocking patience. "For that matter, when are you going to let him move in with you? The man's living in a hotel, for crying out loud. Have you any idea what that costs?"
    Emily flushed and rammed the wired tulip into place. "My relationship with Jacob is absolutely none of your business."
    "You're thinking about getting him out of that hotel, though, aren't you?" Diane asked slyly. "I can see the sparkle in your eyes every time he walks into the shop. I must admit, I never saw that particular glitter when Damon Morrell came around. Or any other man during the past two years, for that matter. Jacob Stone is different, isn't he?"
    "Jacob and I are friends," Emily said loftily as she wired another flower.
    "Sure. And one of these days you're going to be lovers. Watch out, Emily. The next thing you know, you'll be thinking of marriage."
    "Not a chance." Something happened to the tulip in Emily's hands. It crumpled in spite of the thin wire that was meant to hold it straight. She must have handled it too roughly, she realized.
    Diane eyed her friend curiously. "How can you be so sure there's no future with him?"
    "I didn't say there was no future, I just said there was no chance of marriage." Emily concentrated on wiring another tulip to take the place of the one that had just collapsed. This time she would be more careful.
    "Why?" Diane asked baldly.
    "For one thing, Jacob once told me he would never marry again."
    "Men change