Sweet Mischief’s Rollercoaster Romance

They stepped into the flower shop, father and son on a mission to pick out blooms for the women they loved most.

"What about this one—what does it mean?" Andre asked, pointing at a yellow rose.

The sales assistant smiled. “Yellow roses? When it comes to love, they usually mean an apology. Who are you buying for, sir? If you want, I can put together a bouquet and wrap it up nicely for you."

Andre immediately shook his head. “Oh, it's for my wife. No need for a ready-made bouquet.” He wanted their bouquet to be just theirs—handpicked by father and son.

Henry, determined to do his part, leaned halfway into a water bucket and came up with an armful of flowers. He called out loud enough for the whole shop to hear, “Dad, let's get Mom everything!"

The pair spent nearly an hour fussing over their choices, carefully picking each flower. At last, they left the shop carrying their homemade bouquet, both beaming with pride.

hospital. Naomi, knowing Mia barely knew the older family members and wouldn't have much to talk about, had gently insisted, “Mia, you stay home with the

you feel lighter, doesn't it? We really ought to have Bruce and Andre bring you and Mia some flowers when they get back. Those two? Not a romantic bone in their bodies. All they know is how to

all the way into

around, Hansen called, "Mia, where are my two little

his dad, and the other is still sleeping,” Mia replied as she tidied up her son's books. She couldn't help worrying—if he was like this at home, what would happen at

pulled up in the driveway again—this

hidden behind the giant bouquet he was hugging. He

a gift? What did you get?" Hansen asked, his

just as the front

tiny head bobbing around, searching for Mom. Just as Henry looked about to topple over, Andre reached out and grabbed the back of

the next generation-turns