“It’s not nice to keep them.”
Scoffing, she shakes her head. “I’m not keeping them, but I’ll talk to the neighbor tomorrow.” When I see the way she stares at them, it makes me wonder if she’s ever gotten flowers before. From what Noah said, she doesn’t date.
“Do you like them?” I gesture toward the offending bouquet.
“They’re okay. Not my style,” she says, staring at the roses. “I’m more of a dahlia girl.”
Filing that away for future reference, I patiently wait until she sets the roses aside. I’d love to throw them outside in the garbage or set them on fire, but she’ll think I’m crazy if I attempt either option.
She stares at the flowers for a few moments, as if lost in thought. “Cora?”
“Hmm?” She has a faraway look in her eyes.
“You okay?” I close the distance between us and pull her into my arms. I feel her head nodding against my chest as she leans against me.
“Yeah. My dad used to get roses for my mom.”
“Were they her favorite?”
With a heavy sigh, she steps back. “No. I don’t think she had a favorite flower, but roses make the best apology flower.”
There will never be a time when I don’t want to know something about her. Everything involving Cora fascinates me, but I can tell this is a touchy subject for her. She doesn’t talk about them much, and the way she sidesteps giving any information about them makes me wonder just what their family dynamic was like. There’s a large age gap between her and Noah.
“You should probably head out, Atlas,” Cora says, avoiding my gaze. “Thanks for taking us out for dinner. It was nice not to have to cook.”
Nodding in agreement, I close the distance she’s trying to put between us. “Anytime, baby.” I wrap her in my arms and kiss her forehead. Breathing her scent in deep, I feel her muffled voice against my chest.
“Atlas, did you just sniff me?”
“Of course. Didn’t you smell me too?” I ask playfully, a smile tugging at my lips.
Shaking her head, she pulls away, but I notice the red tint coating her cheeks. She’s so cute when she blushes like that. I want to know if it reaches other parts of her as well.
“Of course not; that’d be weird.” She gives me a look.
“I’m only weird for you, baby, but I think you like it,” I tell her with a wink, loving the effect I have on her.
Her blue eyes lock on mine, and I say a silent prayer, begging for our kids to inherit them. A little girl with dark hair and blue eyes that wreck me as much as her mother’s. Of course, I’d have to build a wall around our house, keep the boys away, and all that.
“Sure, Atlas, whatever you want to tell yourself.”
“Okay, Firefly.”
Leaning against the counter, Cora tilts her head and asks, “Why do you call me that?” She seems confused by the nickname.
“I learned a few things last night.”
“Were you searching on the internet about bugs?”
Laughing, I shake my head. “No, baby. We lost the TV remote, and I was watching a bug show with Noah.”
“You watched a bug show with Noah? Why?”
“What do you mean,why?”
“Come on, Atlas. Stop being nice. You don’t have to do all this.” She waves her hand between us.
“This?” I question. I have no idea what she’s talking about.
