Signs of Love: Spring

Chapter 2

Flynn's stomach sank as he wrapped up the most disappointing call of the day. A client for an autumn wedding had pulled out hours before signing their contract. Probably more disappointing for the groom-to-be but a blow to Flynn's business too.

Pushing back panic, he crunched numbers over a microwave dinner in his apartment above Floral Point. If his arrangement with Cynthia passed without a hitch, he'd scrape by another year.

He leaned back on his chair, balancing it on its back legs, and stared at the ceiling. "Shit."

The chair legs snapped on the floorboards, echoing through his quiet apartment. His potted plants gave his home a cozy feeling, but over the last months they'd failed to mask the absence of company.

He cleaned up and found refuge on the balcony. The sky had deepened to a rich violet, and the apartments along the other side of the street were lit up.

Jack's included.

Flynn could see right into his home. The mirroring balcony led into a large living area that mimicked the rustic theme from the café. Not enough plants. Just a lone fiddle-leaf fig in desperate need of care.

Jack hobbled across the room with a tumbler of whiskey and sat on the couch.

Overwhelmed by the urge, Flynn pulled out his phone and found the number for Jacked Up Coffee. He'd seen Jack take business calls from his personal phone, so maybe—

"Hello?"

Flynn swallowed.

Jack glanced at his screen before placing it at his ear again.

"Who's there?" His soft voice suggested he'd guessed.

"I saw your car. You had an accident."

Jack lifted his head.

The lights behind Flynn were on. He would be a silhouette between his tomato plants, all expression concealed.

"You saw my car," he murmured.

"You always park behind the deli. I walked past . . ."

Fright had jumped up Flynn's throat when he noticed the fender had been beaten up on the driver's side. He'd been holding back from calling all day.

"You saw it on your way back from Gene's Espresso." Jack paused. "Which you visited after leaving my coffeehouse."

He'd needed the caffeine. "How do you know?"

"The same way you know where I keep my car."

"I'm not stalking you!"

"Neither am I."

No. Why would he? It was small-town-like around here. Everyone knew everyone's business. "You didn't drive drunk, did you?"

"Is that how little you think of me?"

No, he didn't believe Jack would do that. He just . . . hadn't known how to continue the conversation. He should hang up now. "Why didn't you get checked out at the hospital?"

"I'm a little stiff. I'll be fine with rest."

"Your car looked like it hugged a tree."

"A boulder at riverside bank. Looks worse than it was. I'll get it fixed tomorrow."

"Your leg?"

"The car."

"If it's a cost factor, I can scrounge something up. . . ."

Jack stared at his ceiling. His quiet breathing slipped down the line.

"Jack?"

"It's a kind offer, Flynn." The soft words were almost impossible to make out. Jack cleared his throat. "Cost is not a factor, the café is doing well. I'm fine. Or I will be, after a night's rest."