He slung an arm over my shoulders and tugged me close.
“What if I’m not the fae heir anymore?”
Without a pause, he snorted. “That’d be a huge weight off your shoulders, wouldn’t it?”
“Yeah,” I said in all seriousness. “It would be.”
Chapter
Three
One good thing about guilt is that I tend to pour all my efforts into work. I’d sat down with my team a few days after everything happened, and we’d come up with a promotions calendar and new designs for Valentine’s Day. No one had found out about our relationship blip, so business was still booming. Now that V-Day was fast approaching, we expected to get slammed by forgetful partners desperate for bouquets, so we’d made twenty-five percent more than we expected to need.
Moira lounged on the couch, her long dark hair in a messy braid. She held a cup of tea in one hand and her e-reader in the other. Recently, she’d gotten into this niche romance thing. When I asked her a couple of weeks ago what she was reading, she said something about tentacles and swooned, and that was all I needed to hear before I switched topics.
She was dressed more casually than normal today. Wide-legged cotton pants, a tank, and a long cardigan completed her chic look, but the polka dot fuzzy socks toned down her elegant facade. A pair of lace-up boots sat near the couch end.
Tess was floating near Ash’s shoulder, peering at something the dryad was bent over examining. He was patiently explainingsomething as he held up a leaf with a pair of angled tweezers. Over the past few months, her wardrobe had gone from drab to bright and sunny. Even though we were into February now, she was still wearing cheery and loud holiday sweaters topped with leggings and boots.
Ash looked like he always did. Handsome and well-dressed in browns and greens. His tousled chestnut hair was messy around his face as he focused on the greenery he held before him.
My cell pinged.
You’re still marrying me.
A smile tugged my lips up.Absolutely.
How about three weeks from now? You, me, someone with the authority to sign off, and an enormous catered feast?
Sold.
The bell over the door rang. I turned and sucked in a breath as a new customer entered. A stunning woman stood just inside the door, tugging off her leather gloves. She was small and curvy, her long hair tumbling over her shoulders in a shiny sheath of amber brown. Her eyes were green and slightly turned up at the edges, reminding me of a cat. An adorable, perky nose, full lips, and high cheekbones coalesced into what seemed like the perfect physical package. She wore a chocolate brown turtleneck sweater and a pair of cream-colored pants, topped with shiny brown leather ankle boots. Gold jewelry, glittering with the occasional diamond and a bare left ring finger told me this woman was single.
Something twisted in my stomach because my instincts were telling me something else. This woman was also here for trouble.
Moira untangled herself and set her e-reader down. She gave me an odd look and smiled at the woman. “Welcome to Little Shop of Florals. How can I help you?”
The woman’s gaze flicked up and down Moira’s body, immediately dismissing her. “I am visiting a powerful ally and former…” She smirked. “Lover, though I expect to rekindle things very soon. I’m looking for a gift that is befitting a Shifter Lord.” She spoke with accented English, French. Of course, the stunning woman was French.
You could have heard a pin drop in the shop. Ash’s tweezers clattered to the table. Tess thumped to the floor with an unusual lack of grace. I stood speechless, my fists clenching by my sides. Moira, as usual, was the first to recover. “You’re here to see Lord Caelan?”
The woman nodded. “Yes. What do you have in stock right now?”
She glanced at an expensive golden watch on her left wrist. “I’m in a bit of a hurry if you don’t mind.”
Moira’s eyes narrowed just a hair. “Of course.” She motioned her over to the worktable. “If you’d like to have a seat, I’ll bring out some of our most popular and some of our more unusual displays. Lord Caelan is an occasional patron of our shop and seems to have a preference for a more…violent sort of flower.”
Moira’s smile could have cut through diamonds.
Ash coughed.
My feet were still rooted to the floor. Why does the universe hate me so?
My phone pinged again. I reached down and read the screen.
I love you.
My fingers trembled. Trust. I have to trust him.
