In Full Bloom: Cloverton Romance, #4

By Marci Wilson and Haven Saunders

Having weathered her ex-husband's abandonment, Jasmine Law finds a haven at Dewy's Grocery Store as a floral designer. Her LA glitz combined with Cloverton's Midwest charm make for a unique product for her clients, who have embraced her.

Justin Dewy has the daunting task of reshaping the family business to compete with an incoming national chain. His plans to convert the store into an organic, health-conscious option for Cloverton residents means removing the floral department. Something that doesn't sit well with Jasmine.

Tensions rise between them, revealing unspoken feelings both would rather ignore. Can Justin find a way to save his family legacy without losing the woman who has come to mean so much to him?

• Language: English
• Publisher: MaHanna Media LLC
• Release date: Jun 23, 2024
• ISBN: 9798227647627

Book preview

Chapter One

Over the past few years, Jasmine Law had become a pacer. She paced when she was nervous, she paced when she was excited, she paced to pass the time. But mostly, she paced while on the phone. Especially with her lawyer, Grady Billings.

"I don’t understand how my fitness for work has anything to do with the alimony payments," Jasmine said.

Well, Grady said with a slow, thoughtful tone, you are college-educated.

Barely.

You have a degree. Your ex-husband’s lawyers are positing you would be able to sustain yourself if you got a more skilled job. Then he wouldn’t have to pay so much in alimony.

Jasmine stopped in her tracks. My job requires skill.

Of course, it does.

"Floral design takes a lot of skill. I can’t help that it doesn’t pay more. That’s what Reagan gets for ditching me in a borderline ghost town."

Right, well, you have a business degree, and to Reagan’s lawyers—

I graduated with a 2.7 GPA. I don’t have a business degree. I have a degree in getting drunk.

Grady’s laugh sounded nervous. The point is, whatever job you have, we’re going to have to work around this new motion.

We’ve been working around their motions for years.

I know. It’s another thing they’re throwing our way. We’ve worked through worse before. We’ll get through this, too.

Jasmine glanced out the window at the dreary early March morning. If this keeps up for much longer, I’m going to have to start renting rooms. Lawyers weren’t cheap. Even in the middle of nowhere Illinois. She’d gotten the sprawling ranch that her ex-husband had bought when they’d moved to Cloverton as part of the initial settlement. He had wanted her out, but the judge agreed that she deserved to stay since he was the one who had left. Quite literally. Jasmine had come home from the spa in Aurora one afternoon and Reagan, along with most of his belongings, were gone. He’d never come back.

It won’t come to that. I promise. I’ll call you later.

Okay. Thanks, Grady.

As soon as Jasmine hung up the phone, she realized how late it had gotten. Though she no longer lived in California, she still had the bad habit of running on the leisure of West Coast time, which tended to get her in trouble. She rushed to get changed and ready for the day. Though she didn’t think Justin Dewy would fire her, the way her luck had been going, she wouldn’t be surprised.

All her expensive tastes had dissipated over the past few years, exchanging luxury for budget brands. Despite that, Jasmine always looked like a million bucks.

She wished she felt like it.

She had met the rich and powerful business consultant Reagan Law when she was a party girl. The fact that he was twenty years her senior should have told her everything she needed to know, but she had ignored that particular red flag. He’d wined and dined her, bought her expensive gifts, and made her his wife in six months flat. She followed him wherever he went and that included Cloverton, Illinois.

Unfortunately, Jasmine became the town pariah. Not many welcomed the wealthy young wife of the corporate executive who eventually oversaw closing the logging mill, leaving a good number of locals without jobs.

And when Reagan left Cloverton behind, he left Jasmine there, too. He’d gotten bored and moved on. The moment they were legally separated, Reagan had a new, younger woman. Jasmine suspected the only reason he was dragging out their divorce settlement was so that he had a reason not to marry her replacement.

Jasmine had managed to make a life for herself, but she always felt that she was swimming upstream.

She paused at the mirror by the front door and checked her face. She’d gotten her makeup routine down to a twenty-minute science. But she could no longer hide the crow’s feet and shallow forehead wrinkles.

I’m going to be late, she reminded herself as she rushed out the door.

By the time she arrived at Dewy’s Grocery Store, she was fifteen minutes late. As usual. Morning, Lee, she said as she rushed toward the flower counter.

"Jas, look at that outfit. You are stunning," Lee, the morning checkout lead, announced.

That was all it took to distract her. Beaming, Jasmine pulled at the hem of her cream-colored, chunky sweater. Oh, this old thing?

Deb, a middle-aged woman who’d been a homemaker until her children all went off to college, leaned on her register. Looks like a sweater I saw at the thrift store.

Jasmine put on her best model pose. Likely right before I bought it.

Jasmine, Everett, the baker called, I’ve been looking for you.

Despite the original distaste Cloverton residents had for her, she’d niggled her way into their hearts with her city-girl attitude and bawdiness. Fashionably late again, Ev. Have you seen Justin? she asked, hoping she could slip to her station unnoticed.

The pair walked side by side as she rushed to the big neon sign above her department.

No, but I’m trying this new sugar cookie recipe where I’ve replaced the vanilla extract with almond, he explained, holding out a plate. I need you to try them.

You know I’m on a diet.

Everett rolled his eyes. This was their usual song and dance. Jasmine was perpetually on a diet. Whether she stuck to it was another story. Please, Jasmine. You’re the only one who is honest with me.

This was true. Jasmine didn’t play with Midwestern niceties. She took a sugar cookie off the plate and took a bite.

You can taste the almond, right?

Jasmine took another bite and nodded. "Mmm. It’s amazing."

Yes! Justin wasn’t sure about me trying this recipe, but with your seal of approval, I’m sure he’ll approve it.

Put these out as the free samples today. You need the customers’ approval. Not mine.

Right on. Thanks. Everett patted her on the shoulder with one of his big hands. From his stature and size, he seemed more suited to be behind the deli counter, which made his delicate pastries and desserts even more impressive. Speaking of Justin… He nodded to the area that was filled with flowers, vases, and balloons.

Jasmine scoffed when she spotted her boss talking to a customer. Perfect.

Be careful. He’s grumpier than usual today.

Thanks for the warning.

Everett hurried off to the bakery while Jasmine went to the flower counter. There were already a few customers milling about the produce area lined with all the specialty counters: bakery, deli, and flowers. Usually, the flower counter didn’t start getting customers until midday, but, to Jasmine’s chagrin, someone was waiting for her. Fortunately, or unfortunately, Justin had filled her place behind the counter. He was smiling his suave, businessman smile. He’d recently had his teeth whitened. Jasmine teased him by squinting her eyes when he smiled at her but this morning, his bright smile was tight and forced.

Mid-conversation with the customer, he caught sight of Jasmine. His gray eyes narrowed enough to share his displeasure at her being tardy. Again. Somehow he only seemed to catch her on the days when she was trying to sneak in unnoticed. He never walked by the flower department on the days when she was on time. He had some kind of sixth sense. Like he could sniff out the anxiety she caught herself up in when she was running behind.

The closer she got, the more she heard of the conversation. You know, I’m not an expert on which flowers are in season in March, but here comes our floral manager now.

The patron turned around. Jasmine waved at Alice DePowell, an ever-friendly if somewhat confused, elderly woman who led much of the historical preservation in Cloverton. Mrs. DePowell. So happy to see you.

You as well, dear.

Mrs. DePowell is interested in a seasonal bouquet, Justin said in a cool tone to Jasmine. I was trying to assist her in your absence but—

Jasmine ignored him. Oh, that’s wonderful. March flowers are quite underrated. I’ve got some fresh daffodils or anemone. Some hyacinths.

All of that sounds lovely. Alice grinned. I’m not picky. I want something in season to brighten up the house.

Justin gestured toward her shopping cart. Well, if you have other shopping to do, you can come back when you’re done. Jasmine will have something beautiful for you.

Jasmine grit her teeth beneath her pleasant smile. He had always been a micromanager, but since taking on the job of owning Dewy’s from his father nearly a year ago, he was even worse. She couldn’t blame him for wanting everything to run smoothly, but she missed the old Justin. The one she could tease and have fun with. This Justin always seemed too stressed, too worked up, and far too moody.

As soon as Mrs. DePowell wandered off to the produce department, Jasmine rounded the counter and dropped her purse. Thanks for taking care of her until I got here.

"Yeah, would have been