“Sure, anytime.” I take a bite of my scone while everyone is silent, intently watching our interaction. It’s rather uncomfortable, but thankfully Griffin steers the conversation to more comfortable topics.

“Okay, the picnic tables should be dry soon. Let’s start on the landscaping and then move on to the tables. It doesn’t seem like we’ll have a lot to do because this little section has been pretty well maintained.”

“I’ll take credit for that.” Jake cutely raises his hand. “My staff is really good at wiping down the tables every night and keeping things as clean as possible.”

“They do a great job,” Griffin says, adding, “But that truck, dude, we need to shine it up.”

“I’m on it, don’t worry.”

I glance over at the food truck, and from what I can see, it looks fine, but then again, I’m pretty sure the people of Port Snow have higher standards.

“Before we get started, has everyone met Ren?”

“We have.” Rylee leans over and puts an arm around me. “And we’re snagging her for flower planting and replacement while you boys pick weeds.”

“No way. Last time you worked on the flowers, you left us to doing all the weeding,” Brig complains.

“Then you should have called it first if you were going to be upset about it,” Rylee counters and loops her arm through mine. “Come on, Ren, we’ll show these boys what real work is all about.”

As she walks me toward a pickup truck with a bed full of flower trays, I look over my shoulder to find Griffin watching me. He gives me a smile and then turns toward the guys, motioning for them to join him on the cobbled ground, where they start meticulously pulling small weeds from between the cracks.

Flower beds seem so much more appealing right about now, even though it’s not working with Griffin.

I finish up my scone, licking the last delicious crumbs from my fingers while Rylee gives me the lay of the land.

“Okay, this isn’t an easy job, but it’s better than being on our hands and knees the first half of the morning. Jake has five flower beds around the area. We’re just going to replace some of the dead flowers and spruce them up, make them real showstoppers.”

“I love that. Just tell me what you want me to do.”

“Have you ever planted a flower before?” Ruth asks.

“I used to help my mom every spring in the garden. I’m so your girl for this project.”

“Really?” Ruth gets excited. “This is great. We’ve had a few people come to help, and Rylee has scared them away. She’s too intense when it comes to the flower beds.”

Rylee scoffs. “They have to be done a certain way, or they look like crap. That’s not my fault; that’s just holding people to higher standards.”

“Well, don’t worry. You’re not going to offend me. So please tell me if I’m doing something you don’t like.”

Ruth holds out a pair of gardening gloves, the palms and fingers dipped in a pink wax. “Don’t worry; she’s never been one to keep her mouth shut when it comes to the flower beds.”

“They’re a vital part of making the town pretty. Sorry I want to make sure they’re perfect at all times.”

“I get it; my mom was the same way. Tell me what to do, and I’ll get started.”

“Why don’t you start assessing the flowers and taking out the ones that need to be replaced? Rylee and I can bring you replacements based off what you take out.”

“That works great.”

I slip on my gloves and snag a shovel from the garden bucket. The first flower bed is very close to the truck, so Rylee and I can still chat as we get to work.

“Are you second-guessing joining this little committee?”

I chuckle and start digging out an old purple iris that’s wilted. “How about I tell you tomorrow?”

“I like that,” Ruth says. “Get the full experience before jumping to conclusions. That’s a true teacher right there.”

“Why did you guys join?”

“We’ve both been a part of the committee for a long time. My dad was a part of it,” Ruth says. “With Griffin’s parents, actually, and he always took great pride in making the town beautiful, so I wanted to do something to honor him. It also gives me some time away from the coffee beans, which is always a plus.”

“Ruth dragged me along with her,” Rylee jokingly says. “And I kind of got attached to it, heading up all the flower beds in town. I roped Beck into it. He absolutely adores the town, though, and wants to make sure it stays in pristine condition. He’s actually from Los Angeles like you.”

“Oh, really? What brought him out here?”

“Me.” Rylee’s smile couldn’t be any bigger as she sets trays of flowers by the bed I’m working on.

“That sounds romantic. Care to share?”

“They met at a wedding they were both crashing in Key West,” Ruth chimes in. “She tried to move on, and he wouldn’t let her. Let’s just say he was smitten right away. And our friends Victoria and Zoey wouldn’t let her leave the island without spending some quality time with him.”

“Oh my gosh, sounds like a dream. So he decided to move out here to be with you?”

“Not right away,” Ruth says, clearly relishing her chance to tell Rylee’s story. “There was some time apart and phone sex.”

“There was no phone sex,” Rylee cuts in.

“There was phone sex, babe,” Beck calls out from the sidewalk, making Rylee blush.

I peek over at Beck and can’t help but wonder what phone sex with him would be like. Totally inappropriate, but that’s where my mind wanders. I bet he’s very good at it. He has enough confidence to pull it off.

“Ignore him.” Rylee waves him off and turns her attention back to me. “So is there anyone special in your life?”

I immediately feel multiple pairs of eyes fixate on me.

How did I not realize I’d be put through the gauntlet today? I’m the new girl; they’re going to want to know everything about me. Hell, I would do the same thing if I were them. I just wish the first question wasn’t about my dating life, something that has been nonexistent for a while now.

“Anyone special in my life? Unfortunately, no.” I pull out another iris.

“So you didn’t leave anyone behind in Los Angeles? Can we expect a guy to come flying in any day now to tell you he made a big mistake and wants you back?”

Ruth places a hand on Rylee’s shoulder. “Please excuse my friend and her wild imagination. She loves overdone romantic gestures that are usually fabricated. She is a romance author, after all.”

I chuckle. “Don’t worry; she’s good. No, there’s no one. No unexpected claims for love on my end. If anyone comes flying out here to beg for me to come back, it’s going to embarrassingly be my mom.”

“Ugh, my mom would be the same way if I left Port Snow,” Ruth says. “Then again, I’m all she has left. But let’s not talk about that.” She leans forward a bit. “Is there anyone you have your eyes on? You know, we have a lot of eligible bachelors in this town. And believe me when I say Port Snow knows how to grow them handsome.”

“She’s right.” Rylee raises her eyebrows. “We have a lot of hot guys in this town. Starting with Tracker.”

“Oh, Griffin told me about him.” I wave my shovel at them. “Said he’s a real man whore.”

“Big time,” Rylee confirms while placing a new plant in a vacant hole. “Griffin was right, but Tracker’s also a good time; at least that’s what I’ve heard. I have no personal experience. And don’t forget Jake and Oliver.”

“General store Oliver?” I ask.

“Yup.” Ruth nods. “Such a shame that a man who can make ice cream that good is single; just doesn’t seem right with the world, does it?”

“It really doesn’t.”

“And there’s also Kent down at the deli, Brock at the Lighthouse, and the Knightly boys. All single,” Rylee says, motioning with her finger toward where the guys are picking weeds. I refuse to turn around and look at them. “But you have to watch out for the Knightlys, you know—oomph.” Ruth has not so nonchalantly elbowed Rylee, who stares down her friend with murderous eyes. “Hey, you clipped my side boob. That hurt.”

Skipping the apology, Ruth clears her throat and motions with her eyes, shifting them back and forth. The exchange is really odd and uncomfortable as they silently talk to each other.

Uh, what is going on here?

Since neither of them seems to bring the conversation back to the group, I take it upon myself. I awkwardly clear my throat. “Wow, that’s a lot of single men on the prowl. Any single teachers?”

“Uh, Carson, the history teacher, is single, right?” Rylee asks Ruth.

“I think so. Pretty sure he just broke up with his girlfriend from Pottsmouth. She didn’t like the commute to see him.”

“Isn’t it, like, twenty minutes?” I ask.

“Yeah, we never said she was a good person, just a person Carson dated. I think she was a nurse, right?” Rylee asks.

“I think so.” Ruth nods. “She worked weird hours, and it was one of the reasons why they didn’t work out so well.”

I take in their conversation, smiling to myself. There has to be something in the water here; even people who swear off gossip can’t help but pass around juicy information.

“Do you want us to fix you up with anyone?”