2
Tessa
Ididn’t look back.
Even when I felt him watching me from across the street.
Even when every instinct told me exactly where he was standing.
I kept walking.
The bell above Bloom & Vine chimed softly as I stepped inside, and the familiar scent of fresh eucalyptus and roses wrapped around me instantly.
Safe.
Predictable.
Mine.
I exhaled slowly and set the flowers onto the worktable near the window.
Sunlight spilled across the shop in warm golden stripes, catching glass vases and ribbons hanging from the wall. Buckets of fresh blooms lined the cooler in neat rows—white peonies, sunflowers, lavender stock.
Normal things.
Quiet things.
Exactly the kind of life I’d fought for.
“Get it together, Tessa,” I muttered under my breath.
Because Ace Mercer was becoming a problem.
A six-foot-two, broad-shouldered, unfairly handsome problem with gray eyes that looked at me like I mattered.
I grabbed the floral clippers from the counter and started trimming stems with a little more force than necessary.
Snip.
Snip.
Snip.
The image of him leaning against the tavern porch refused to leave my head.
That lazy smile.
That rough voice saying my name.
You ever gonna give me a real shot, Tessa?
“Nope,” I told the flowers.
The bell above the door jingled again.
I froze.
Please don’t let that be—
