None of Heather’s muscles worked as the old woman headed toward the sink and began to wash her gnarled hands.
“What is she doing?” Heather asked Anna, with a glance to Velma.
“I think she’s preparing to work here,” Velma replied.
“C’mon, Babushka, you work at the flower shop. Let’s go back there.” Jase was clearly doing his best to stay calm.
“I quit.” Babushka began familiarizing herself with everything behind the counter.
Heather tossed Jase her best please-help-me look. Okay, so maybe she should’ve let Jase toss out his family when he’d tried. Hindsight and all that.
“What are you talking about?” Jase asked.
“I quit. I vill be vorking vith Heather now.” Babushka had found the stash of aprons and tied one on.
“Um…no. I’m all staffed up. Don’t have the funds to hire anyone else.” Heather’s heart was kicking in her chest. What was this day, anyway?
She’d left a nice-paying job selling corrugated cardboard designs to open the shop. Sold everything. Her town house. Her car. Even some of her clothes. Moved into the small apartment above the shop and refused anything but success.
“No charge.” Babushka shuffled toward the register. “Favor because I wrecked your van.” She shooed her grandson. “Jason, you may go, I vill check in.”
“This is so not what I expected,” Velma whispered.
Candy popped her head out from the back. “Heather, there’s a problem with the deliveries. The Smith delivery only got two bouquets, not three.”
Oh no. The Smith delivery was three cockie bouquets and an extra four boxes filled with very inappropriately shaped cookies.
Heather glanced to Jase. “I think there’s a missing bouquet of…” She did her best to telepathically sayerection cookieswhile keeping her face as neutral as she could.
Jase clearly got the message with the speed he pulled out his phone and punched in some numbers. “Hey, Ethan…one of the bouquets didn’t make it to the Smith delivery…can you check the back…” He shifted from foot to foot while he waited. “No, I’m sure…they called Heather…where did you—”
He had gone pale.
Where the hell had the cookies been delivered?
“Then go back to the funeral home and grab them,” Jase continued.
Heather’s stomach pitched. Oh, that wasn’t good.
Jase shoved his phone back in his pocket and gave her a look. A look that wasn’t good.
“Tell me you did not deliver my cockies to a funeral.” Heather’s knees went weak, and she actually felt the blood drain from her scalp.
Jase didn’t move. She’d never seen anyone go so still.
“I think that means he did,” Velma said from behind her.
5
Chapter Five
Heather’s arms wrapped around Jase’s waist, the wind in her hair, the rumble of his motor between her legs—yep, Heather was on Jase’s Ducati zipping through Denver. Her thighs pressed against him. And, dammit all, she enjoyed it.
For a moment, she closed her eyes, pretended they weren’t going to rescue her cockie bouquet from a funeral home. Instead, they were riding through the Italian hillside. Just the two of them, maybe a picnic on the side of a hill. She’d lay out a blanket, and they’d cuddle together and make out for a while. No expectations, just enjoying the feel of each other’s lips. The taste of one another. Things would get heated, and they’d make lazy love on a picnic blanket in a foreign country. No cares. Just the two of them.
He pulled the bike into a space in the back of the one-story mortuary, right next to his delivery van.
Nothing killed a wet dream quite like a visit to the neighborhood funeral home. Heather peeked around Jase to where Ethan leaned against the bumper of the delivery van.
