I glanced over. “What if I want a pony?”
“I’d ask you what kind.”
I snickered. “Wait until you see the house plans I come up with.”
He picked up our joined hands and pressed a kiss to the back of my palm. “Do whatever you want. As long as I’m with you, I’d live in a hole in the ground.”
Hot and occasionally spoke like a poet. How could I not swoon over him?
Dryads were gentle creatures,but cross one at your peril. One of our more difficult customers was learning this as Moira and I sat back and stayed the hell out of it.
I’d gotten back the night before, reluctantly saying goodbye to Caelan from the vehicle. It was getting more difficult to separate from him, and while that was scary, I realized I was maturing.
Many things had changed since I’d escaped the tree. I no longer took things or people for granted. And the people aroundme had done the same. My magic was more balanced, and I no longer had to siphon as much.
Rowan’s theory about being touch-starved had been spot on. As outlandish or odd as it seemed, the moment Caelan had stopped hounding me about marriage and we started forming a stronger, more intimate connection, something inside of me had clicked.
Moira and Ash had always been affectionate, but they’d stepped it up a little. Enough to let me know they cared, but also enough to not make it weird. Even Tess was trying, though she had her own issues to deal with after singlehandedly destroying a powerful fae in an effort to save my life.
Ash was always the one to put a comforting touch on my shoulder or brush a hand over my hair as he passed, and I’d always thought he was the gentlest of all of us.
He’d blown that theory to smithereens today.
The woman was someone we hated seeing come in, but her money was spent as well as anyone else’s, and she hadn’t done anything over the top. Until today.
“Excuseme?” Her voice was right on the cusp of a screech.
Ash’s look could have shriveled even the most violent heart. If they were smart. Which this woman obviously was not.
“Ma’am, we all watched you walk out of here with a stunning bouquet. Every flower was at the peak of health.”
“I beg your pardon.” She could not have sounded more offended if she’d tried, but Ash was right. If someone purchased a bouquet more than a day old, I personally touched it up before I let it go out the door. Less than a minute prior to the sale, I’d inspected and boosted every flower and greenery in the crystal vase.
Ash didn’t give an inch. “Your item was in pristine condition when you walked out of here, and our guarantee is the flowers will stay that way for a minimum of seven days.”
A hint of craftiness glinted in the woman’s eyes. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. Several flowers died the same day!”
“And you didn’t think to bring it back?” Ash said, one eyebrow raised.
“Well, it’s heavy…”
“No photos either?” Ash pressed.
“I didn’t think to take any. I mean, I’m a long-time customer and thought my word would be enough.”
Ah yes. We’d officially moved to the guilt portion of the argument.
“I’m sorry, ma’am,” Ash said. “Like I said before, we cannot offer a refund to merchandise that’s not returned to our location so we can inspect it.”
That bouquet had been two hundred and fifty bucks and took hours of work to put together.
If this had been a one-time deal, we would have been more flexible, but this was the third time the woman had requested a refund, and Ash, more so than the rest of us, was over her shenanigans.
“Further,” Ash continued, “this is the third time you’ve been dissatisfied with our work. This begs the question of why you continue frequenting our establishment if we can’t seem to serve your needs.”
The woman blinked. “Well, I’mtryingto give you a chance to rectify your mistake?—”
Ash snorted. “The only mistake here is that we didn’t ban you the second time you asked for a refund.”
