‘I miss Daisy,’Fern says, swinging from the ceiling.
“She was here for two days,” I say, not telling her that she wilted and ended up in the compost tractor like most cut flowers.
Or that they were from Kosta with a threatening note:Marry me or you’ll be pushing up daisies.
“Fallon, is someone in there with you?”
I throw on a pair of sweats and a T-shirt that saysTalk dirt to me.“No one. I’m coming.”
“By that, you better mean answering the door,” he says in a low, flirty voice.
I can’t respond as I have to count as I twist the lock three times, unlocked/locked, unlocked/locked, unlocked/locked, and then a final spin. The door whooshes open, and Rhys stands there looking like he hasn’t slept.
He’s in a pair of jeans, a New York Yankees T-shirt, and a baseball cap. “Can I come in?”
I slap his chest. “Of course. You’re my boyfriend. You don’t have to ask.”
Rhys grips my arms. “Yes, I do. Any man at this door must ask to come in. You don’t let anyone in this place unless it’s your choice. Do you understand me?”
“Okay,” I say, startled by his fervor.
When he sees my eyes, he backs off. “Just because I’m your boyfriend doesn’t mean I can come in here anytime I want. You have to grant me permission, okay, Fallon? Promise me.”
I think about that and nod. “I promise.”
“Good…girl,” he says, his eyes scanning my T-shirt. “Talk dirt to me?”
I pull at the hem. “Yeah, I have a ton of these. You’d be surprised at all the ads you see on Facebook once you buy gardening gloves and seeds.”
“I bet.”
I pad into the sleeping alcove and take out a few more. “Here are some others. Plant one on me. Thyme for Love. Water me, Daddy. I dig you. Grow old with me.” I wait for a chuckle, but Rhys just stares at me.
“Are you all right?” he asks, looking concerned.
“Of course. I—” I stop, recognizing the manic tangent. “I get a little excited. That’s what this pill is for.” I reach for a bottle and open it. “Daddy said men don’t like it when I get excited.”
Rhys grabs the bottle from me with one hand and pulls me in with the other. “I can handle excited.”
“Oh…”
We stare until he lets me go. “Did you sleep all right?”
“I did.” I wonder why he’s asking me, and then I remember I took one of the sleeping pills.
“Good.”
We stare again, and I say, “You didn’t sleep here last night, did you?”
Going pale, he says, “No. Was someone else here?”
“No.” I press on his chest, thrilled at the warm skin and plump muscles. “I woke up and… Never mind. Did you get rid of that body?”
“Christ,” he mutters. “You remembered that?”
“Oh yeah.” I turn to go into my kitchen. “Tea?”
“No, thank you,” Rhys grunts. “Do you remember everything that happened last night?”
