Dancing with Dandelion

Dandelion “Andi” Bloom has sacrificed a lot for her career in the Army. Now that she’s retired, playing security guard at Bloom’s Farm for high-profile events is a welcome change of pace. That is, until hosting a string of political events means working with a Secret Service detail – including a certain special agent she would have rather left behind in Virginia.

Special Agent Ross McClain takes his job seriously. Even if he has to come to Middle of Nowhere, Indiana to work events for the vice presidential candidate. On Bloom’s Farm, Ross runs into a familiar—and unwelcoming—face. Could this assignment get any worse?

Despite their mutual disdain, Andi and Ross must work together to provide security for the farm and the candidate. As the assignment goes on, it becomes impossible not to clash over every decision—and even harder to deny their growing chemistry.

Dancing with Dandelion is Book 7 in the Bloom Sisters Series. This small town, family saga is full of heartwarming themes, swoony-worthy kisses, and sweet happy endings.

Fran Duffey5.0 out of 5 stars Dancing with Dandelion

Reviewed in the United States on June 2, 2023

This book had me after the first chapter. I loved the story of so many sisters who got along so well as did the husbands. Add to that a secret service guy who went through a lot to win Dandjs heart --- and a son-in-law who ran AND won a bid for vicePresident. Of of the U nited States of America . I love the way they all worked together to help Harrison . anxious to read more of the Bloom Sisters.

If there was anything more frustrating than being dismissed for being a woman, Dandelion Bloom wasn’t sure what it could be. As she watched her friend Monique talk with the mechanic, Andi resisted the urge to roll her
eyes at his condescending tone.

“Well, Ms. Pritchett, your brakes are shot. Kind of
important, don’t you think?”

Andi narrowed her eyes. Internally, she mimicked his tone. Kind of obnoxious, don’t you
think?

She tried to look like she wasn’t listening, scrolling
aimlessly on her phone. But Monique was flustered and Andi was debating whether
she should step in.

“How much will new brakes cost?”

“Well, if it were only the pads, I’d say about $500. But you
need rotors too. So we’re looking at about two grand.”

Andi nearly choked. The nerve on this guy was unbelievable.
Brakes and rotors on Monique’s little Honda should be no more than a thousand.
And that was generous.

But the slimy mechanic didn’t stop there.

“Unfortunately in the inspection, we also found the brake line is worn out. Which is another thousand. And your battery is low capacity,
which is another couple hundred.”

And he was a sleezy liar, which would be another thousand.

Monique turned to Andi with a concerned look on her face
before turning back to the mechanic. “I-I don’t have that kind of money.”

“We take credit cards.”

Of course they did.

Andi pasted a smile on her face. “Could you print out the
quote for everything she needs so we can look at it all at once?”

When he handed her the estimated repairs, Andi skimmed the
list. Everything he’d mentioned was on there, along with the inspection and oil
change Monique had actually brought her car in for. And then there it was—air
filter replacement.

She pulled Monique aside. Her friend had a worried look on
her face, and Andi rubbed her shoulder lightly. “It’s going to be okay. This
guy is totally taking advantage of you.” Monique had just bought this car. The
previous owner had a dog and since Monique was allergic, she’d had the car
detailed. Andi had even changed the air filter.

Which is why seeing that particular charge on the estimate was a major red flag. As if the ridiculously high prices weren’t enough, now
Andi had evidence that they were trying to charge for unnecessary work.

“Are you sure, Andi? I don’t want to drive around with bad
brakes.”

“I don’t want you to drive around an unsafe car either. But
I also don’t want you to pay an arm and a leg to a guy trying to rip you off.
See?” She showed Monique the air filter line. “I just changed your air filter.”

Her friend’s worried countenance changed to frustration. “I
hate cars. Why did I move to the suburbs? At least in the city I could just
take the Metro.”

Andi laughed. “It’s going to be okay, but you should find
another mechanic.”

Monique nodded. “Okay.”

Andi wiggled her eyebrows. “Want to have a little fun with
this guy?”

Monique laughed. “Be my guest.”

Andi pulled out her most innocent voice. “Thanks so much for
this. The only thing we saw that you didn’t mention was the air filter. You
really think her air filter needs changed?”

The man gave her a victorious smile.

Andi wanted to gag. He actually thought he had them hook, line and sinker.

“Sweetheart, we wouldn’t lie to you. I’m not in the business
of charging customers for services they don’t need. Jordan pulled it out and
said it was nearly completely clogged. We’ll get it taken care of for you,
though. Don’t you worry.”

Andi squeezed the leather braided key chain in her hand.
“That won’t be necessary.”

“You really should change it, ma’am. You can trust us.”

Andi didn’t trust him as far as she could throw him. She
dropped her clueless expression. “Oh? Then explain to me how your tech in
there,” she jabbed a thumb toward the garage, “is claiming the air filter is
dirty when I changed it myself two weeks ago.”

The shop manager looked toward the garage in a panic and shifted uncomfortably. Andi waited for an answer. Let him squirm. These weasels
weren’t going to rip off her friend.

“We…Uh…maybe Jordan gave me the wrong information.”

“Oh, come on. Drop the act,” she checked his nametag, “Paul.
Here’s the deal. You’ll stop ripping off women who come to your shop, or I’ll
call in a favor from Wendy down at Channel 5. She’d love to run an exposé about
how your little shop pads the numbers by charging for unnecessary work and not
completing it.”

Paul stammered and stuttered and eventually tried to stand
behind everything he’d quoted.

Andi stepped back and let Monique take over. Her friend
rolled her shoulders back. “I’ll be taking my business elsewhere, thank you
very much. I’ll pay for my oil change, but not a penny more.”

Begrudgingly, Paul handed over the keys.

Monique linked her arm in Andi’s and they walked out the
door. Andi felt a bit ridiculous, like the best friends in a romantic comedy,
strolling down the street full of sass. But Monique’s worried look had been
replaced with laughter and a broad grin, so it was worth it.

When they got to her car, Monique turned to her. “Girl, what am I going to do without you?”

Andi waved her hand. “Oh, come on. You’ll be just fine.”

Monique wrapped her arms around Andi, and she tried not to stiffen. Hugs weren’t her favorite thing, unless they were from her family. Was
she supposed to pat her on the back? Or was that awkward?

“I’m going to miss you so much!”

She pulled back from the hug. “I’m going to miss you too!
But I’ll come visit. And you can come to the farm. You’d get a kick out of my
sisters.”

“I know. It just won’t be the same as having you right
here.”

“Well, I’m not leaving for another month. So don’t get all
weepy just yet,” she cajoled. After all the years with her sisters, Monique’s
emotional display only made her slightly uncomfortable.

Monique laughed. “Fine. Just beware, you’ll get all the
tears and hugs when you pack up.”

“I’ll start mentally preparing now,” Andi said dryly. One of
her favorite parts about having good friends was that they knew behind her
relatively stoic exterior, she cared just as deeply as they did. It just wasn’t
her style to let it show.

It would be hard to leave her home here in Alexandria. She’d
spent twenty years of moving from base to base, but the last six had been spent
here, near DC. It wasn’t that she didn’t like it here. Despite how she’d wanted
to get away from Bloom’s Farm twenty years ago, there was something about being
home that called to her now.

Her military career had been rewarding and fulfilling. God
had kept her safe and helped her find herself as she served her country. But
she had been clawing her way up the chain of command for years. Plus she was
tired of dealing with the inevitable macho attitudes that were apparently
issued along with the uniforms during boot camp.

She had no doubt it was time to do something else.

She waved goodbye to Monique and got into the car. If she went straight there, she could get in some time at the dojo before she needed
to teach class.

Andi knew she wouldn’t change anything about her military
service. It had allowed her to see the world, being stationed in Korea, Germany, the Middle East, and all over the US over the years. She’d learned
more than she ever imagined. But it was a lonely way to live. When you moved
every three or four years, it was hard to make friends.

The guys she dated briefly from the Army never lasted
long—and she’d decided long ago that dating someone in the service would be
counterproductive to her own career advancement. She knew enough about the
system to understand the added complexity of trying to navigate two career
ladders simultaneously. Outside the military, anyone she met while living
somewhere tended to balk at the idea of following her to her next duty station.

She was ready to be done.

If only she knew what to do next. With the expansion of the
farm over the last ten years, she thought she would have a good job running
security. Aside from a few high-profile events, it would mostly be managing the
security systems and bouncing unruly wedding guests. Easy enough, right?

It was the easy option right now. There was a place for her
there to leave her mark on the farm, just like each of her siblings had done.
It just made sense for her to go home after twenty years away. She’d briefly
considered the idea that this wasn’t the plan, but the unknown was scary. There
had been periods of uncertainty in the Army. What would she be doing? Where was her next duty station? Someone else had always made those decisions. This one was all up to her—and she had to get it right.

Andi parallel parked down the street from Alexandria Martial
Arts, the dojo where she’d been training since moving to Virginia. The Army
provided limited training in hand-to-hand combat, but Andi found she enjoyed
the training and control required. After the introduction from them, she began
searching out other opportunities to learn from various teachers over the
years.

She grabbed her gym bag from the back of the car and headed
inside. After a quick stop in the locker room to change, Andi bowed and stepped
onto the mat to stretch. There were few people in the dojo at this time of day
since the evening classes for the children hadn’t started yet.

She transitioned into a series of katas, allowing her mind
to still. She focused entirely on the repetitive movements and maintaining her
form. When her body was warm and her mind focused, Andi moved to the corner of
the gym dedicated to a couple of martial arts bags.

She repeated the katas, this time putting power behind the
punches and kicks as the bag returned upright repeatedly for another hit.
During one short resting break, she found the eyes of Master Roberts watching
her.

Andi folded her hands and bowed. “Sensei.”

He bowed in return and greeted her as his student. “Kohai.”
Andi admired Master Roberts’s innate calm and control. She’d rarely seen him
angry, usually only when someone disregarded the rules of engagement for a
sparring match.

He gestured at the bag. “Your form is good today. But you
seem distracted.”

Andi nodded. “A lot on my mind. Only one more month before I’m officially retired.” Retired. Seemed a strange label for a woman who was
barely forty.

“Ah, yes. Then you’re moving, right? Where was it again?
Missouri?”

“Indiana.”

“What do you need, kohai?”

Unlike some of her previous teachers, Master Roberts never
pushed his advanced students, letting them guide their practice and pace.

“I need to get out of my head. Katas aren’t doing it for me.
Any ideas?”

Master Roberts bowed. “I can arrange a randori, if you’d
like.”

Andi bowed in return. A sparring match sounded perfect. But
who would Master Roberts match her with on such short notice?