“Maybe you should tell her yourself.” I smirked because if there was one thing I learned, it was Harmony was stubborn.
He snorted. “She respects you more.”
That was debatable.
I crossed the street and walked into the florist’s shop.
I saw Sandy first. “Thanks for helping.”
“Anytime,” I replied and I headed to the back where Harmony was waiting.
She said hello and kissed me, not a quick hello kiss but the kind that lingered. The kind that got my body worked up andmade me think all kinds of dirty thoughts. Like taking her here in the back room.
“That’s a nice hello,” I said once she broke the kiss.
“I missed you,” she said. Knowing how hard it was for her to share feelings made it mean more.
“I missed you too.” I wrapped an arm around her waist and drew her into me. This time I slipped her tongue and was greeted with a sweet moan. That’s when she stopped the kiss.
“I’m working. I can’t do this now.” She grinned.
“I understand. Was there actually a box of flowers you needed help with?”
“Yes, right over there.” She pointed and I lifted the large box and took it out front to Sandy, who grinned at me like she knew what we were up to. That’s when I noticed Asher across the street. He leaned against Dad’s SUV, talking to a couple of older teenage boys, who I recognized as kids from the community center. One of them practiced a jab-cross combination as Asher corrected the angle of his elbow. He caught me watching and lifted his chin in acknowledgment. I said bye to Sandy and Harmony and walked over to him.
“You starting early today?” I asked across the street.
Asher shrugged. “Open gym was packed yesterday. Figured I’d help them work off some steam before school.”
“Since when are you their coach?”
“Since they listened.” He smirked. “Don’t worry. I’m keeping an eye on the trucks and the shop entrances too.”
I nodded, appreciating him more than he’d ever let me say out loud.
Harmony pushed open the floral shop door then, soft bell chiming. When she spotted me, something warm lit her face and she gave me a shy smile, and that was all I needed. Normal things. Watching Harmony smile and have it touch her eyes. But things weren’t truly normal because my brother was outsidestanding guard. I was on constant alert and Dad and Becket were checking in way too often. Things had been quiet for days, but history taught us that the quiet didn’t last long.
CHAPTER 33
Harmony
Pierre’s truck smelled like cedar and old leather, the kind of scent that should’ve been comforting, but tonight it only made my pulse thrum harder. The engine rumbled beneath me as I turned out of Main Street, headlights cutting through the early evening fog rolling off the river. I’d stayed late at Petals and Pines helping Sandy prep flowers for tomorrow’s wedding. I told Eric I’d be home by six. It was almost seven now. I wasn’t trying to break the rules we set to keep me safe. I just… needed the normalcy, even if normal felt like a thin costume stretched over panic. I checked my mirrors out of habit. Once. Twice. Then again, slower.
A pair of headlights hovered three car lengths back. Not unusual on a weekday. But when I turned onto the quieter road that led toward the Thorne property, where the sidewalks thinned and the houses spaced out, the car stayed with me. No one ever followed down this road unless they lived on it. My throat tightened.
“Okay,” I whispered to myself. “Okay. People drive. Cars exist. You’re not paranoid. You’re prepared.”
I adjusted my grip on the wheel. The navy Ford felt heavier and larger than the car I used to drive. It was safe, even if the size wasn’t calming my nerves. I made the next turn. They made it too. My stomach felt like it was going to drop out from under me. They stayed close. Not tailgating. Just… holding the same distance. Like they wanted me to know they could see me, or maybe get to me.
I forced myself to look forward again.Don’t look scared. Don’t swerve. Don’t tip your hand.That’s what Marcel used to say to Olivier when teaching us to drive. The memory cut like glass. I inhaled slow, steady breaths. I wasn’t going to break. Not now. My phone was in my coat pocket, out of reach unless I lifted my hand from the wheel. I couldn’t risk fumbling for it with a truck this wide on a narrow road with curving ditches. The next streetlight washed over the vehicle behind me. It was dark and low to the ground with tinted windows. A sedan. My vision tunneled for a second as the memory of the car outside the community center flickered like a broken slide reel.
“Think,” I told myself. “You know how to do this.”
I waited until the next small bend in the road, where it widened slightly, and eased my foot off the gas, letting the truck slow by just a few kilometers. If they passed, I’d know. If they didn’t. . . The headlights behind me dimmed for half a second, like the driver tapped the brakes too, keeping pace. A cold ripple went down my back. I reached for my phone. My fingers brushed the fabric of my coat as my heart hammered inside me. The screen lit before I even unlocked it with Eric’s name glowing. I exhaled a shaky, desperate breath and answered.
“Sunshine?” His voice came sharp. Alert. “You okay? You’re late.”
I reached for my phone, but when I glanced back at the mirror, the sedan suddenly lurched forward as if the driver had realized I’d spotted them. My pulse spiked.
