The sign on the door said, "Noble Flowers: Prop. John Noble." Rose hesitated for a moment, but the florist she'd been going to had gone out of business since she'd placed her last order, and her friends at work all swore Noble Flowers was the best place to go.

When a man in his thirties with the best sexy bedhead Rose had ever seen popped up from behind a huge bucket of daffodils, she thought she knew why her friends had all recommended this shop. And when he smiled brightly and stepped out into the open so she could see his slim body, she had to admit she couldn't argue.

"Hello!" he chirped. "You must have good luck—this is the first slow moment I've had since February started. I'm John Noble, owner of this fine establishment."

Even his voice was gorgeous! Less than five minutes in, and Rose already had a slight crush on the stranger. "Pleased to meet you, John. My name's Rose."

His grin widened. "The perfect name for a girl in a flower shop. How can I help you, Rose?"

Rose smiled, letting him see a touch of her tongue. "Well, I was hoping to order flowers, and it seems like I'm in the right place."

He beamed and stuck his hands in the pockets of his tight pinstriped trousers. "Yep! Do you know what you want?"

"Well…" Rose clasped her hands together to keep from biting her nails. "They're for my mum," she said quietly. "My dad died five years ago, and I've been getting her flowers on Valentine's Day and their anniversary ever since. It just makes the hard day a little easier, y'know?"

John's brown eyes softened. "Beautiful and kind," he said, making Rose blush. "Now, what kind of flowers should we give your mother?"

Rose blinked. "Um… I usually just get her something pretty and pink, cos that's her favourite colour."

"No no," he tutted as he walked to the counter, dirty cream coloured chucks squeaking on the tile floor. "You can give her a pink bouquet, but not just any pink! Flowers have meanings Rose—you should give her something that will speak to her." He picked up an order pad and a pen. "She still misses your dad?"

Rose nodded.

"All right, then we want to start with something that symbolises fidelity. Oh, but that's easy. Ivy! She loves pink, so we'll add pink carnations," he continued as he wrote ivy down on the slip, followed by p. car. "They stand for remembrance, and also represent a mother's love." He grinned at Rose. "A little backwards, maybe, since this is about your love for her, and hers for your dad, but still a nice sentiment."

"Mum won't know the difference either way," Rose said casually.

John looked up at her over the rim of his glasses. "Oh, but you will. And if it's the thought that counts, well, might as well put some thought into it, yeah?" He bit the end of his pen, and Rose was too distracted by his full bottom lip to reply, so John just kept going. "And then stargazer lilies for sympathy…"

Rose was fascinated by the unique florist. She'd had a vague awareness that different flowers were supposed to mean different things, but it had always seemed like a fanciful notion, something that schoolgirls giggled over. But here was this grown man, spending time in the busiest week of his year to help her create the perfect bouquet for her mum.

"Which ones are stargazer lilies?" she asked.

He spun around and opened the case behind him, reaching around a bucket of daisies to retrieve a beautiful pink flower with white-tipped petals.

Rose stroked the petal delicately. "S'beautiful," she agreed.

His smile sent butterflies through her stomach. "Then we're in agreement? Pink and white? I'll fill the rest in with things I find here and there—all in good taste, none detracting from the meaning, I promise."

"I suppose I'll have to trust you," Rose teased. "Just as long as you don't send my mum something saying I'll hate her forever or something."

John twirled a pretend moustache. "You've found out my devious plan," he said, sending Rose into a fit of giggles. He laughed with her, then used the iPad next to him to ring her up.

Rose raised her eyebrow when John shuffled nervously after handing her the receipt. He'd been confident and flirty the entire time she'd been in the shop; what had him spooked now?

"Could I… I've got a question that I'm sure is terribly rude." He rubbed at the back of his neck. "Seems like half the things I say are rude, even without me trying… But I can't let you go without asking." He swallowed hard and met her gaze head on. "Is anyone giving you flowers this Valentine's Day, Rose?"

Her cheeks warmed. "No, me 'n my boyfriend broke up almost six months ago now."

John shifted from one foot to the other. "Then… would you let me bring you flowers?" Rose opened her mouth, but John rushed on before she could say yes. "I couldn't get away on Valentine's Day proper—that's our busiest day of the year, and we'll be doing deliveries until eight or nine. But once we get past all of the blokes who forgot the holiday coming in for apology flowers in the morning, the 15th is usually a slow day. We could… I don't know, go for chips? Do you like chips?"

Rose grinned. "I love chips."

His cheeks turned pink. "Then… would you let me take you out? I promise I don't make a habit of chatting up customers, but…" He shrugged helplessly.

"Yeah… I mean, I don't make a habit of accepting dates from blokes I just met, but…" She smiled shyly. "Yeah."

oOoOoOoOo

Rose got a call from her mum at lunchtime on Valentine's Day, thanking her for the flowers. To her surprise, Jackie was aware of the meanings behind the flowers, and complimented her on the thoughtful arrangement.

"I can't really take credit, Mum," Rose admitted. "John helped me with all the choices."

"John?"

Rose smacked her palm against her forehead when she heard her mother's interested tone. "He's the florist," she said hurriedly. "Look, I've gotta go, Mum. My lunch is almost over. I'll call you later, all right?"

When John showed up at the chippy the next night with a bouquet of yellow buttercups and pink roses, Rose accepted them with a smile. "Do you admire my charm, then?" she asked as she brought them to her nose to sniff."

Surprise flickered through his eyes, then he chuckled warmly. "Someone's been doing her research."

"I had to be prepared," Rose bantered, holding the bouquet out. "I figured you were bound to tell me something with flowers."

In fact, Rose became so familiar with the language of flowers that when John surprised her with a romantic candlelight dinner and 108 red roses the next year on February 15, she said yes before he could even show her the ring.

AN: Pink roses symbolise admiration and buttercups say you think the receiver is charming, or that you're charmed by them. Giving 108 roses means, "Will you marry me?"