As we turned down the dirt road to the back of the house, long domed greenhouse tents stretched across the property in several rows. Beyond the nursery, acres of farmland rolled against blue skies forming the foothills of the Appalachian mountains. It was a different kind of quiet up here. A quiet I had often sought out during undergrad to avoid the drama that always seemed to surround Artie. But I also had a bad tendency of dragging it right along with me and often got more than what I bargained for from Maya.

I parked the truck just off the lane along the first tent where the storefront connected and then hopped out. A hand-painted flip sign read CLOSED in the window, but the door was propped open with a lemon tree in a five gallon pot. Someone had to be around.

"Should we head up to the house and knock?" Desirae asked, looking back towards the old white farmhouse.

"On a beautiful day like this? If Maya's here, she'll be out back. Likely, in one of the greenhouses."

Green metal wagons lined the front of the building for customers to wheel around their pots of flowers. Bags of mulch and soil laid stacked in piles against the tent. I poked my head inside and glanced towards the counter, but there was no one behind it.

Desirae wandered over to the cash register where a spike pierced a stack of receipts. I could see her eyeing them up, but a security camera watched our every move from the corner. Other cams throughout the rest of the tents transmitted their footage back to a computer screen next to the register.

Casually, Desirae tapped a service button and leaned back against a wall of seed packets. "I'll need you to distract Maya when she gets here."

"Distract her?" I repeated. "How?"

"I'm sure you'll think of something," she murmured, scanning the shelves full of ribbon and floral foam behind the counter. "If you can, find a way of asking her about the flowers that were arranged with Gabriel. See if she'll take you to them so I can look around."

I nodded, heading around the corner to the shade annuals tent with Desirae close behind. Well-tended rows of red begonias and pink impatiens lined the pallets that stretched to the back. In the next tent were all sun-loving flowers, geraniums, dahlias, gerber daisies. Beyond a pallet of pansies, a pair of muddied boots and long brown legs stood on a step ladder, head somewhere in the sea of pastel blooms that hung in baskets from the ceiling.

"We're closed," a gruff voice called out from the flowers.

"Oh. Sorry," I stammered, realizing it wasn't Maya. "I uh, was just actually looking for-"

A ruggedly good-looking guy in a pink racerback tank and hoochie daddy shorts popped his head out around the basket of tumbling purple petunias with a sheepish grin. His long wavy hair pulled back in a bun made him look like a jacked, hipster Jesus.

"Oh shit," he laughed softly, swiping a wild curl back with the side of his hand. Black soil smeared against his brow. "My bad, I saw the truck pulling in and I-well, I wasn't expecting you." There was warmth in his voice this time as his dark eyes went from me to Desirae before finally settling on me again.

I returned his smile. "You know Rafael, huh?"

His eyes sharpened on me as the corner of his mouth twitched with a smirk. "Yeah, you could say that." Hopping down from the ladder, he wiped his hands on his tight white shorts. "What uh, was it you said you were looking for?"

The way he looked at me made my stomach flutter with a familiarity I couldn't place. At least I tried to blame the butterflies on that. Masculinity wasn't something I was normally attracted to no matter sex or gender, but labels are never a one size fits all kinda thing and there were always a special few who really made my heart race. Maya had always held that top masc spot for me.

And Artie hated her for it.

But the more this guy looked at me, I knew it wasn't solely attraction. I had seen his dark hazel eyes somewhere. And then it hit me.

Last night at the museum.

He was the guy pretending to fluff the floral arrangements watching me and Rafael when we arrived. I hadn't thought too much of it then, but now after what happened with Gabe's body, it seemed a little suspicious.

"I'm uh, actually an old friend of Maya's," I answered carefully. "I heard she was still around?"

His thick eyebrows knitted as he looked between me and Desirae again. "Who'd you hear that from?"

"Cora Chapman mentioned her last night," I replied. "Said Maya took over the nursery here." He rubbed at his thick black stubble, muttering some choice words. I stole a quick glance at Desirae who seemed just as confused as me. "We uh, we all sat for Rafael's sister, Artemisia, several years ago. Modeled, I mean. For her paintings."

"Unfortunately, you heard wrong. Maya's dead. Has been for five years now."

His words hit me like a blow to the stomach. "What? No, she..." It was impossible. Artie would've at least told me that. Our relationship was complicated, but she wasn't that coldhearted to keep her death from me. Then again... My mouth went dry and I could feel tears starting to fill my eyes. "Sorry, I-" Desirae pulled me closer, rubbing my back. I sunk into the side of her, more choked up than I wanted to be. "What happened?"

"Wow, I kinda thought you'd be glad." His agitation flipped to a strange bemusement as his thick brows quirked.

"Glad?"

He ran his hand over his beard with a chuckle and my unexpected grief began to grow to anger. After the last twenty-four hours, I was in no mood to be taking anyone's shit. I was about to knock the handsome grin off his face when I saw it.

"It's me, you goober."

My breath caught in my chest as I studied his sharp jawline, the hardened slope of his nose, his hazel eyes. I couldn't believe it.

I pulled away from Desirae and shoved him hard in the shoulder before wrapping my arms around his neck. The tightness in my chest immediately released as I felt the warmth of his laugh against my ear, his fingers firm around my hips. "Oh my god," I laughed through even more tears, stepping back to take him all in. My hands slid down the thick corded muscles of his arms. "You look amazing, you fucking jerk."

"I thought that was you last night, slinking around the museum's shadows. Can't believe they even let you in," he teased, looking me over. He held my gaze briefly before turning to Desirae, dropping his hands from my waist. "Hi there, I'm Miles," he introduced himself, holding out his hand to her. "He/him in public, they/them with friends."

"Sorry, right," I laughed, shaking off the shock. "This is Desirae, my uh-"

"Fiancée." Desirae took their hand with a smile. "She/her."

"Fiancée?" Miles shot me a bewildered look and I tried to hide my own with a forced smile and a nod. Desirae refused to meet my eyes. I had no idea where she was going with this, but there was no chance Miles would buy it. They knew I wasn't the marrying type.

"Fiancée," I echoed with emphasis, trying to convince myself too.

Their eyes shifted from her to me then down to the huge sparkling diamond ring on Desirae's finger that I was just now noticing for the first time. Apparently, I was right last night about her rocking a nice rock. She must have slipped it on while we were driving. From what I could tell, the wedding band was still on her chain, tucked into her dress.

"Damn, Kirb," Miles whistled, examining the ring. "You did good."

"She sure did." Desirae slid her hand back and around my waist. "We actually came up here to see if you were available to do the flowers for our wedding? When Cora mentioned you last night, Kirby practically ran out the door to find you."

"You did, huh?"

"I did, yes." I nodded again, trying not to fumble the storyline. "But apparently you were right under my nose the whole time. I knew I felt someone watching me."

"I doubt I was the only one," they murmured.

Their eyes found mine again and a rush of heat swept through me, reigniting old feelings that time had only dampened. But Desirae came in with the quiet cockblock, lacing her fingers through mine, reminding me I needed to at least pretend to be a good wife for the time being.

"Kinda weird Cora brought you up last night but failed to mention you were in attendance," I mused. "But I guess she didn't want to out you to us."

Miles scrunched their face with doubt. "I think you're giving Cora too much credit."

"I'm sure she just wanted you to make an ass out of yourself," Desirae suggested.

"Well, shit. She didn't have to deadname them for me to do that. Making an ass of myself is pretty much a guarantee, right babe?"

Desirae finally looked up at me. Her teeth grazed her bottom lip with a flirty smile. "You're a cute ass, though." She squeezed my hand which almost felt sincere. As much as I was still pissed at her for roping me into this whole mess, I found myself smiling back.

"Well, I would love to do your wedding," Miles offered, interrupting our gross little moment. "When's the big day?"

"Exactly a year from now," Desirae answered. "We booked the old Cliffside Estate along the bluffs. We're looking for peonies, lavender, hydrangeas, maybe some foxglove-super cottagecore chic meets Igbo Nigerian grandeur in dusty rose and burgundy, golds and champagne. But we don't want a lot of cut flowers because then they just die so we're hoping to do urns and pots."

"I like the sound of that," Miles replied and I actually agreed.

The whole marriage thing wasn't something I ever imagined wanting for myself, not even after I met Artie. Maybe especially not after I met Artie. I had no interest in being tied to her family name for the rest of my life and I certainly had nothing to offer her. But the wedding that Desirae was painting for us actually didn't sound too bad. Visually, at least.

"Did you happen to notice the flowers at the museum last night?" Miles asked. "I used a lot of dried, bleached grasses for texture and height then threw in Artie's favorites, the blush cabbage roses, lavender sprigs, white peonies-Cora hated them of course," they laughed. "I don't know why she even asked me to do the arrangements."

"I thought they were gorgeous," Desirae stated. "What was her problem?"

"Honestly? Probably just me. I made the grave error of assuming I could stick around for the opening after I set up. I thought after them plastering my ass up and down the front of the museum for three weeks that a free invite was fair."

"You were on the banners too?" I hadn't recognized them, but apparently I wouldn't have if it was a recent painting.

"It was a newer piece Artie was working on. But she was busy flying back and forth to Sicily at the time so we never got to finish. Probably for the best, though. Things were getting weird between her and Cora and I didn't want to get caught in the middle. Cora can be such a bitch sometimes. You know, she introduced me to a collector last night who was interested in the Eden series, but in the same breath she called me a sellout because I've since transitioned. I had to leave or I probably would've killed her."

"I don't blame you." From what they were saying, it seemed like they left the museum before we discovered Gabriel's body on the stage. It'd be unlikely that they saw anything last night, but I was more interested in the time they spent with Artie leading up to her death. "We uh, had a weird run-in with her last night too. Apparently, she's hooking up with Raf."

"Interesting... and a little gross too," Miles hummed. "I wonder if Landon knows."

I exchanged a quick glance with Desirae. "What's he have to do with Cora?"

"Well, she didn't exactly get the curator position because of her adept knowledge and lengthy history of gallery management, right? Not with her sub-par sculpture portfolio either. Landon and Cora have totally been hooking up since Artie passed. Probably before, actually. Not that Artie wasn't also sleeping with Cora at the time. And others. And I'm not trying to slut shame anyone by the way, it was just messy."

"Good to know Artie stayed true to her character," I mumbled.

"Anyways, if you want, we can go sit down and start putting some ideas together? I just built a huge old school conservatory around the other side of the house. I'd love for you to check it out."

"Yeah?" I glanced over at Desirae and knew she was looking for her out, but she had a very inquisitive look on her face as she studied Miles. "You wanna keep looking around, don't you, Desi?"

Her demeanor flipped to sweet, wholesome wife. "Would that be okay?" She looked at Miles first and gave them those big doe eyes. "That way you two can go catch up. Kirby knows exactly what she wants anyways."

"Wander wherever you like," Miles said, flashing her that grin that made their dimples pop. "The roses and hydrangeas are all still in bloom, but the peonies you'll have to check the tags for their colors."

As soon as Desirae disappeared behind the tent, Miles turned to me. "You have no idea what you're doing, do you?"

"Not a fucking clue," I laughed. "Which is exactly why I came to you."

Miles lifted the bottom of their shirt to wipe the sweat from their face. "Is that the only reason?"

As my eyes slowly roamed over their body, I tried to banish any impure thoughts from my mind. I shook my head no. "Do you have a cigarette?"

They snorted. "You haven't changed a bit, have you? Hiding bad habits from the wife..." Their dark eyes darted to the door. "Come on."