Flowers on Main Read Online Free Page B

based on today’s reception, it seemed unlikely he’d make that easy for her.
    “Maybe it shouldn’t be easy,” she murmured as the seagullswatched her quizzically and a couple of weekday tourists regarded her curiously.
    She smiled wryly. She must present quite a sight, with no makeup, the sea breeze whipping strands of her hair out of the clasp meant to hold it atop her head and talking to herself. If she were a character in one of her own plays, there would be quite a story behind this scene.
    In fact, there was quite a story behind it. What she couldn’t quite predict for the real-life version was whether it would turn out to have a happy ending or wind up a tragedy.
     
    The crab-cake sandwich was sitting heavily in Jake’s stomach. One beer had turned into two before he’d cut himself off and returned to work. He planned to lock himself in his office at the nursery and spend the afternoon catching up on paperwork. As much as he hated that side of the landscaping business, at least it required concentration, which meant his mind wouldn’t be wandering to thoughts of Bree the way it had all during lunch, despite Will and Mack’s best attempts to talk about anything and everything else.
    They’d exhausted Orioles baseball, the upcoming football season with the Ravens, politics and even the usually lively recitation of Mack’s dating exploits. The latter, unfortunately, had cut a little too close to the unspoken topic of Bree, so Jake had cited a busy afternoon schedule and cut the meal short.
    En route to his desk, he kicked his trash can across the office, then threw a stack of seed catalogs on the floor. It was when a chair hit the wall that his sister came flying into the room.
    “What on earth has gotten into you?” Connie demanded, ducking behind the door when an empty soda can came flying in her direction.
    “If you have an ounce of sense, you’ll get the hell out ofhere,” Jake growled, turning his back on her to stare out the window at rows of shrubs and trees currently being examined by an elderly couple at the behest of one of his best salesmen. He recognized the Whitcombs. He’d been working for them since his days of cutting grass as a teenager. They’d been asking lately about crepe myrtles to fill in their landscaping. The trees that flowered in late summer came in an increasing range of colors now. Molly Whitcomb had her heart set on a dark purple one, while Walter liked the more traditional pink. Jake wondered idly who was winning the battle.
    He heard his office door click shut and turned around expecting to find himself alone, but his sister was calmly sitting on the chair opposite his desk, her expression patient.
    “So, you don’t have an ounce of sense?” he asked, amused despite his sour mood.
    “That’s what I hear,” she said. “I certainly don’t run from trouble, the way you apparently do.”
    Jake bristled. “What the hell does that mean?”
    “You and Bree—just about face-to-face at Sally’s, and you turn around and take off. Sound familiar?”
    He scowled at her. “How did you hear about that?”
    She rolled her eyes. “Oh, please, did you honestly think that news wouldn’t be all over town within five minutes? That’s the joy of cell phones, little brother. The local grapevine works at lightning speed these days.”
    “More’s the pity.”
    “So, do you want to talk about it?”
    “No.”
    She shrugged. “What else is new? You haven’t wanted to talk about Bree for six years. Now, personally, I think you’d get her out of your system a whole lot faster if you’d rant and rave and tell the universe exactly what you think about her.”
    “Bree is out of my system,” he insisted. And what he thought of her wasn’t fit for saying aloud. “I broke up with her, remember?”
    Connie gave him a sympathetic look, the kind that made him want to break things.
    “You may have said the words, Jake, but she broke your heart long before that. Don’t even try