“It’s pretty though. What did you say it’s called?”Jesse asked.
My lips were numb when I said, “Waterlily Dahlia.” Thewords conjured up all kinds of unbidden memories from my past.
A bouquet of WaterlilyDahlias on a mahogany table not meant for me.
A tall, lankykid reaching for them, spilling a few droplets of water on the expensivefinish. “For you.”
“It doesn’tcount if you steal them,” I told him, unable to resist a smile and the waybutterflies assaulted my belly.
His low laughchased me through the spacious room. “I beg to differ,” he argued. “Danger,uncertainty, potential time in the slammer. These flowers were won at a price. Anybodycan buy flowers from a store. They practically give them away. But how manyguys have scaled two stories, rewired an alarm system and risked his life justto get you flowers?”
I rolled myeyes, hating the way my cheeks blushed. At the same time, I couldn’t help butlove the attention from Sayer. “It just happened to me last week. Twiceactually.”
He closed thedistance between us, handing me a single stem he’d plucked from the crystalvase. “Liar.”
“Thief.”
His lips pressedagainst mine in the next second—hungry, greedy, possessive. I had to stretch upon my tiptoes to reach him. His arms wound around my waist and held me againsthim. My heart slammed into my rib cage, jumping with anticipation andexcitement and too many feelings for this boy.
He pulled backto whisper in my ear, “Take the flower, Caro.”
I nodded,letting him close my fist around it. Holding it out under the moonlight fromthe floor to ceiling windows, I wondered at its beauty. “What kind of flower isit?”
Sayer shook hishead. “It’s yours. That’s what kind it is.”
Tearing my gazeaway from the blossom to Sayer’s blazing blue eyes, I felt myself fall deeperin love with him. Was that even possible? He already had all of my heart. Whatwas I giving him now? My soul? My life essence?
The next week abouquet of those same flowers showed up on my doorstep. The note said,Waterlily Dahlias. It took me a week to track them down. But, Six, I would havesearched for them for the rest of my life for you.
The box containing this flower wasn’t from Sayer. Iwould have recognized his handwriting. And he wouldn’t have sent me crimson.
He would have sent white.
And never like this.
Who else was looking for me?
“I don’t know who it’s from,” I told Jesse and Maggiehonestly. “The whole thing is weird.”
“Are you okay?” Jesse asked, getting that I wasn’tacting okay.
I sucked in a deep breath and willed my frantic nervesto still. Then I met his eyes. It was always important to meet someone’s eyewhen you wanted to lie to them. Most people with a secret couldn’t handle theshame. Most people wanted to duck their head or focus on something else whenthey had to stretch the truth. But if you could meet their eyes when you liedto them, they hardly ever suspected that what you were saying was anything butthe fact.
“I’m fine,” I told him confidently, not flinching, notturning away. “It just surprised me.” Adding a smile, I closed the box andturned around to toss the entire thing in the trash can. The box was awkwardfor the small receptacle, but I didn’t really want to throw it away. I wantedto save it for later so I could examine it in private. “Anyway, I should getback to work. Our next should be here any second.”
Jesse took the hint graciously. Tipping his head tome, he continued to hold my gaze. “If you change your mind about tomorrownight, you’ll let me know?”
I refused to let my smile crack. “You’ll be thefirst.” And then I winked at him. Because why the hell not.
“Bye, Mags.”
“Bye,darlin’.”
The bells on the door jingled on his way out. Maggieand I silently watched him climb into his King Kong of a truck and reverse downthe driveway.
When nothing was left of him but the kicked-up dustfrom his double row of rear tires, Maggie turned her scowl on me. “You going toexplain that flower to me now that he’s gone?”
I pulled paperwork in front of me and focused on that.“Maggie, there’s nothing to explain. You know just as much as I do.”
