“White it is.” She scans the workbench, frowning at the white flowers there. “But not tulips. I need...” She stares at the bouquet, deep in thought. “I need peonies.”
She turns on her heel and disappears to the back of the shop, only to emerge a moment later with a handful of white flowers. Peonies, I guess. She works in silence, adding some last touches before tying a few bows here and there.
“Do you...” She pauses, ripping a piece of tape with her teeth. “How long before you can go back to Columbus?”
“You had enough of me already? It’s only been a few days.”
“No, it’s not that, but it won’t be like this forever, right? I’ll get my old life back...?”
A boulder settles deep in my gut for two different reasons. One, that hint of vulnerability is back, and two... did her old lifeinvolve a man? I thought she was single.
My mind whirs through everything I know about Bianca, everything I read online, all the pictures I’ve seen, but it comes back empty. Has she kept her relationship private?
My hands ball into fists, the mere thought of another man in her life driving me livid.
“You’re back in your apartment and working in your shop,” I grit out, the annoyance flaring behind my ribs like a scorching fire. “What’s missing?”
I realize, a touch too late, that my hands are in fists and my clipped tone leaves a lot to be desired.
Bianca goes on the offense, unaware that my shitty attitude stems from green jealousy.
“Oh, I don’t know,” she mocks. “Perhaps feeling safe? Not living with two bodyguards?” She ties the last ribbon around the bouquet and storms past me, shoving the flowers into another vase, her cheeks red, chest heaving. “Not having to argue with you every five minutes would be nice, too.”
Her attitude fuels mine, my temper rising.
I push a calming breath down my nose. My lips part, sorryon the tip of my tongue, but the overdoor bell dings and the first customer enters, rendering me speechless.
Bianca’s foul mood evaporates in a flash, her scowl turning upside down into a bright, beautiful smile.
I’m so fucked.
16
Bianca
Having Ryder breathing down my neck is equal parts infuriating and exhilarating. Our days in the shop are the most challenging. At least when we’re in my apartment, I can hide in my bedroom or the bathroom if I need a break, but here... there’s less than twenty feet between us and Ifeelhim.
I feel him watching me while I work. I feel the knee-melting scent of his cologne, so potent it overpowers the floral, earthy scent hanging in the air. I feel the heat of his gaze, and the heat of his body, whenever he comes closer.
And he does often.
Whenever someone he considers a possible threat enters, Ryder’s by my side, hovering so close his arm brushes mine as I assemble the bouquets.
“We’re leaving for Columbus as soon as you close up tonight,” Ryder says once the door closes behind a young mother with three kids.
“We’ll be back tomorrow, won’t we?”
“Yes.”
I look up from the handful of short-stemmed red roses I’m arranging. It’s been busy for a Saturday, all my emergency grab-and-go bouquets were taken before noon.
Ryder hasn’t said a word for hours, quietly watching the throng of people coming and going. While I scrambled to meet everyone’s needs, he remained almost motionless.
He didn’t consider anyone suspicious enough to move closer, and the lack of proximity is grating my nerves. I keep glancing at him, my attraction growing swiftly.
It shouldn’t.
Lusting after a man who’s not the least bit interested is idiotic at best, but I can’t help myself. He a sight. Tall, broad, dark eyed. His bad-boy aura should be repulsive, but it’s fucking enthralling. Any woman would find Ryder hot, but it’s not his looks stirring feelings inside me.
