“Yeah, yeah. She owned like two guns. Are you done?”
“Oh, sweetheart. I’ve got way more where that came from.”
“I’m getting in my truck.”
I hung up and stuffed my wallet into my jeans. Put on my shoes, grabbed my keys, looked in the fridge. No dice on the vegetables. There was some leftover takeout chicken, a drumstick. I sniffed it; it seemed okay. I wasn’t a bad cook, but cooking for one was weirdly depressing and I generally avoided it.
I slugged back some pineapple juice, stuck the drumstick in my mouth and glanced at the bouquet of red roses I’d bought at that grocery store five nights ago.
Somehow, they’d made it back to Dylan’s house with me that night. Amber had put them in water and Katie had sent them home with me.
Turned out, Danica was wrong. They weren’t dead yet.
Didn’t look so great, though. Maybe because I had them standing in a mason jar in like a quarter-inch of water.
I grabbed the roses and walked out the door.
Chapter Seven
Ash
“Jesus. Where’d you get those?”
Summer wrinkled her nose as I reached into the backseat and pulled out my sad roses. We got out of the truck and she slammed her door as I came around. Then she stood there with her giant, several-hundred-dollars’-worth-of-flowers arrangement, staring at me.
Mine weren’t even wrapped. I just held them in a bunch in my bare hand, trying not get pricked with thorns.
“Are you shitting me?” she said. “Are those the roses from your breakup party?”
I shrugged. “You’d rather they die of neglect in my apartment?”
“Holy Christ.” She set her vase down on the pavement, then grabbed my wrist and yanked the roses toward her. She started madly plucking the more wilted petals off the outsides of the roses. Once she’d stripped off the worst petals, they actually looked half-decent.
Then she pulled the roses, one at a time, from my hand, scratching me with thorns in the process, and sticking them into her giant arrangement. Once they were all in there, she lifted the whole thing and handed it to me.
I followed her into the hospital, barely able to see around the flowers. “You think you got enough flowers?”
“Ababy, Ash. Our girl just birthed a human being out of her body. There aren’t enough flowers in the world.”
She was probably right about that.
We found Elle’s room easily enough. Flynn, her bodyguard, was standing watch outside, being way too obvious about it. Nice early-summer day, and he was wearing boots, cargo pants and a fitted shirt, all black, and stiff as a rod.
Seth’s bodyguard, Bane, was hanging out just up the hall. Elle’s mom was there, too, with Seth.
When they saw us coming, Mrs. Delacroix threw out her arms and Summer swept her up in a hug. “Congratulations, Mama! You’re a grandma!”
“Thank you, sweetie!” There were tears glistening in Elle’s mom’s eyes as she held Summer. “The baby’s asleep, but you can go in and see Elle. She’ll be happy you’re here.”
I shoved the flowers in Flynn’s direction. “Hold these.” I figured if he wanted to act like furniture, he could make himself useful.
He took them, reluctantly.
Then I moved in to shake Seth’s hand. “Congrats, man.”
Seth took my hand, but then pulled me in for a quick hug. “Thanks, Ash. It means a lot. Elle will be happy you came by.”
“Sure.” We let go and I hugged Elle’s mom next. “Congrats, Mrs. D.” I’d always called Elle’s mom Mrs. D, even when she told me to call her Felicia. She wore pearls all the time. I just couldn’t do it.
