No man had ever bought me flowers before.
Could he really be staying?
Despite how we’d left things, hope still bloomed in my chest every time I looked at his flowers. I tried to rip it out by the roots, but the damn thing was a dandelion—stubborn, scrappy, and growing where it shouldn’t.
Julia kept pace as the nurse wheeled me out to the pickup area, with the flower-transporting bikers hot on our heels. People stared, but I couldn’t blame them. We must have made quite a sight.
“Is my brother at the club?” I asked.
“No, ma’am,” the shorter of the two prospects said. “He left this morning. Said he had shit to do.”
That didn’t sound ominous at all.
I climbed into the passenger seat as the prospects situated my flowers in the back. Then they followed us on their bikes.
Julia glanced at me when we stopped at a light. “You didn’t tell me Doc sent you flowers.”
Saving my life had earned Landon a promotion from “the medic,” or “Beth’s son,” to “Doc.” I was happy for him, even if his absence gutted me.
“He…. It’s complicated.”
“Even after he saved your life?”
“He’s leaving on Monday.”
She nodded, tapping her fingertips against the steering wheel. “So, the party….”
“I’ll be there.”
Her brows rose. “You sure that’s a good idea?”
“No, but I’ll take it easy. Julia, I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
The prospects carried my flowers upstairs to my apartment, where we found Ben busily cleaning my house. Feeling like an absolute bitch for assuming the worst, I hugged and thanked my brother before stumbling into my room and face-planting on the bed.
I woke up sometime later to the smell of bacon frying. Déjà vu hit, and that stupid dandelion hope surged that I’d find Landon in my kitchen, but it was Ben. He overcooked the eggs, and the bacon was chewy, but he got an A for effort, and I gratefully ate every bite.
“It’s my turn to take care of you for a while,” he said, scooping up the plates when we were done.
The next few days passed in a blur of sleep and nightmares. I spent my waking hours trying not to obsess about Landon and his note. Other than the flowers he’d sent, I hadn’t heard a peep out of the man.
Anxiety reared its ugly head on Monday morning. I woke up feeling like bugs were crawling beneath my skin, and when I glanced at my phone, I realized why. It was the twenty-second of December, the day Landon was supposed to leave for Africa. His card had said he wasn’t going anywhere, but with his continued absence, I’d half convinced myself that he’d changed his mind.
Unable to sleep, I climbed out of bed, showered, and dressed.
Ben wasn’t awake yet, so I sneaked out of the apartment alone and walked over to Beth’s. By the time I knocked on her door, my palms were sweaty, and I was jumping at every sound. Getting kidnapped had apparently messed me up more than I’d realized.
Nobody answered the door.
I checked the time on my phone. Beth was at work, but she wasn’t the person I needed to see. I knocked again, then rang the doorbell, growing more uneasy with every quiet second that passed. Fear churned in my gut until I finally broke down and called Beth from the shadows of her home.
“Hey. I, uh… walked over to talk to Landon, but he’s not answering the door.”
“Yeah, he’s already gone,” she said.
The ground beneath me shifted. “Gone?”
“Yep. He dropped me off and headed for the airport.” She sounded distracted. The children’s shrieks in the background told me why, but I couldn’t find it in me to care.
