“Easy, killer. Wrong delivery,” I explain, delighted it’s not something from the stalker.
“We should really tell clients you hate flowers.” He reaches for the card. “You always said flowers are for tattoos, apologies, and funerals,” he recalls, huffing a laugh, and sliding the card from the sleeve.
“I love that you pay attention to those little details.” I chuckle and nudge him with my elbow. “I need to call the florist and let them know they made a mix-up,” I say, bending over in front of him to pick up a Sharpie—not sure how high my skirt goes, but silly me, I forgot my underwear today—getting his hackles up is my new favorite hobby.
Within seconds, his whole demeanor changes, the smile fades away, and every muscle in his body stiffens. “Where did they come from?” he asks. He flips the card over, stamped with the company logo.
“Lakeland Floral,” I read aloud.
He snatches the vase and takes it to his office.
What the fuck?
I follow behind him. “Is something the matter?” He didn’t react at all when I bent over for him.
He scrubs a hand down his face. “Nothing, I’m just going to call the florist and let them know.”
I blink a few times. Okay?Why is he so upset?My head cocks to the side. “If there’s something you’re not telling me?—”
“There’s not.”
We stare at each other for a moment, and I search his eyes for a lie, but he relaxes.
“Can you send Casper in here?” he asks, his voice more casual.
“Sure.” Maybe I misread something. “Oh, hey, guess who I got a text from?”
He freezes. “Who?”
“Rosa! She’s in town. We’re going to get drinks on Thursday!”
“No.” He locks his jaw. I’m not sure I’ve ever heard a firmer no. He said it like it’s not even up for debate.
“I wasn’t asking,” I remind him. “I can go out for drinks with my friends.”
“Absolutely not. I don’t want you out with anyone.”
I bark out a laugh. It was one thing to want me to stay with him, but not letting me go out at all? He can’t be serious. “Logan. It’s Rosa. We’ve been texting since the expo.”
He shakes his head. “It’s not Rosa that’s the problem, my issue is with the person who is sending you messages and now gifts.”
“What are you talking about?” I point at the flowers. “Those aren’t even for me!”
He opens his mouth, then shuts it again, knowing I’m right, then takes a steady inhale and relaxes. “Look, how about you have her over to your house for drinks. I’ll hang out in one of the bedrooms and read. You won’t even know I’m there, you can still have your girl time, but I’ll be around in case anything happens.”
I shake my head. “I deserve freedom. I can’t hide forever, ruled by fear. It already feels like it’s taken too much control of my life. I don’t want to be too afraid to leave the house. Besides, I feel safer being out and about. At home I’m a sitting duck.”
Removing the vase from his hands, I place it gently on one of the nearby file cabinets, then spin to face him again and grasphis shoulders. “Logan. I’m fine. I love that you are being so protective. But please don’t put me in a cage and take away my friends.”
He scrubs a palm down his face and hauls me into his chest. “I’m not trying to put you in a cage.”
“Just one night with drinks.”
His eyes dart back and forth between mine. “I want to know exactly where you are going. If either of you gets a bad vibe or notices anybody hovering, you call me. I also want Rosa’s number.”
“Yes, daddy.” I roll my lips together to keep from smiling. He grumbles. “I’m just trying to keep you safe.”
I rise up on my tiptoes, and he dips his head so I can plant a peck on his lips. “Your protective side is really fucking sexy.”
