She scooted off the bike. Jase followed.
“What’s the damage?” he asked, setting his helmet on the seat.
“Funeral started before I got here. The director can’t grab the bouquet until it’s done.” Ethan kicked off from the bumper. “I’m sorry, man. I was in a hurry and I totally screwed this up.”
“Did they actually put out the cockie bouquet?” Heather asked. Maybe they’d just put it in the kitchen or something. Surely, someone would’ve noticed.
Ethan nodded. “I looked in the chapel. It’s right next to the casket.”
At first glance, it was just a bouquet of cookies, but if anyone looked closer? Heather shivered. The funeral-going crowd was probably not her target audience.
Jase made a noise in the back of his throat. He was going to grind his teeth right out of his skull. “How many deliveries do you have left?”
“Still have a bunch,” Ethan confirmed.
“Go ahead and get to it. I’ll wait here.” He turned to Heather. “You want to wait with me or do you want Ethan to drop you at your shop?”
“I came to rescue an erection bouquet. I’m going to see that through.” Heather crossed her arms. No one could say she didn’t finish things once she committed.
Ethan nodded to her and climbed back into the delivery van. “Really, sorry.”
“Don’t beat yourself up. It happens,” Jase replied while his hand ran over his face.
“That’s not entirely true.” Heather brushed at her jeans.
“What’s not?”
“Well, it’s just that an inappropriate cookie bouquet being delivered to a funeral home because an old lady decided to go allGrand Theft Autoon a delivery van isn’t really something that just ‘happens.’”
“Well, when you put it like that…” Jase shook his head.
Ethan headed out of the lot, turning onto the street.
“Poor guy,” Heather said.
It wasn’t his fault the morning had gone how it had gone.
“Man, this day,” Jase said to no one in particular.
“Things you never expected to do today for five hundred, Alex.” Heather turned to Jase. “This is not how I anticipated spending my lunch break.”
“No kidding.” Jase flipped over a white bucket and gestured for her to sit. Then he repeated the process for himself.
“For a fake couple who fake broke up, we spend a lot of real time together.” Heather picked at the cuticle of her fingernail.
Jase closed his eyes and leaned his head against the brick exterior of the building. “Times like this make me seriously reconsider my commitment to our breakup.”
“Oh no, bud.” Heather patted his knee. “I get my leather seats out of this shebang. Don’t try to weasel out of it by telling the truth.”
He peeled open one eye. “Grab lunch when we’re done here?”
“You buying?” she asked.
“Sure, what the hell,” he replied.
“Then absolutely. But to be clear, it’s not a date. It’s just the two of us celebrating the freeing of the cockies.”
The cockies, which were in a vase. A pretty large vase.
