Page 37 of Worth Loving You

I shot a quick glimpse at her standing in the middle of the living room with her hands on her hips, but immediately directed my attention back outside. The man was tall and muscular, with dark brown hair and a thin, neatly trimmed beard. Wearing a black trench coat, he had a wool cap pulled low on his brow, his chin tucked behind a scarf today. I didn’t know what color eyes he had, for he always wore sunglasses, but he looked mean.

“What?”

“It’s like a floral shop in here. Thank goodness I ain’t got no allergies. Wait…is all this cuz he missed Valentine’s Day the other day?”

A second time, I tore my sight from my stalker to scan the room. Vases of roses, lilies, and orchids were scattered everywhere, only adding to our already cramped and cluttered space. I huffed, leaning my shoulder against the wall, completely unimpressed with the tactic.

Craning my neck, I gazed at the crowded street, but the guy was gone. I pushed the slats further apart to look up and down, but he was nowhere to be seen.

“No. When was Valentine’s Day?”

“Tuesday.”

Hm. The same day the strange guy popped up.

Someone knocked on the door and my pulse froze, my lids rounding. I wanted to yell at Jennifer to not answer, but she was already swinging it open.

“Oh, my word. Chazzy, it’s for you.”

Anxiety cramping my stomach, I let go of the blinds and stood up straight, only to deflate with an irritated groan.

“Ms. Monroe? Delivery from Milo Pampinella.”

Rolling my eyes, I flipped my wrist at her. “You sign for it. I’m so fed up with this.”

She took the clipboard and jotted her name, taking the dozen, long stemmed, white roses. Shutting the door, she strolled toward me, lifting the bouquet to sniff the petals.

“What on earth is goin’ on?”

I plopped to the sofa, setting my heel on the coffee table and crossing my ankles. “Milo.”

“Yeah, I got that.”

Twining my fingers over my belly, I lifted a brow and grinned. “He’s learning a lesson.”

“What did you do?”

I filled my lungs and sighed slowly, more than proud of myself. “Milo is a bit of a brat and needed to learn what the hell no means.”

She blanched, shoving the roses out. “Chastity Lou! Did he—”

“Oh, god, no. Trust me, that man couldn’t force himself on me if he tried. I am way too willing.”

Blushing, she dipped her chin to gaze at me through her lashes. “I heard y’all Saturday night. Good Lord, girl. You sure you was a virgin last week, cuz dang. Y’all even turned me on.”

I giggled, scratching behind my ear. “Yeah, he’s…wow.”

“I was kinda hoping to meet him the next morning, but by time I got up, he was gone.”

“Mm hm. Sure was,” I snipped, clicking my short nails together.

“So, what’s goin’ on? Why so many flowers?”

“It’s not just flowers. There’s about three boxes of chocolate covered strawberries in the fridge.”

Tucking her chin to her shoulder, she abruptly tossed the roses to the coffee table and jogged down the hallway. “Say what?” Disappearing into the kitchen, she squealed. “Jackpot!”

A moment later, she was scampering back, one of the boxes open, her cheek puffed with a bite. “Oh, my word, this is so good,” she muttered around it.