Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76456 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76456 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
The rest of the day was full of familiar, mundane tasks. Making arrangements, handing out orders that had been placed days before.
It wasn’t until the shop was closed for the day, and I was alone to finish up my tasks, that I came to a startling realization.
Work wasn’t my sanctuary anymore.
I felt none of that old, familiar relief being inside of it.
Everything around me reminded me of the men in the prep room. The boxes that were supposed to only be full of these beautiful flowers, but clearly had something else inside. Something secret that men were willing to maim and kill over.
I never could have imagined a day when I didn’t want to work in the shop.
But every inch of me wanted to run, to hide, to never return.
I couldn’t do that, though.
What would the man do then?
If I disappeared with all of his secrets?
Track me down?
Torture Vega to try to get information out of her? Kill her when he didn’t get it?
No.
“I need a giant ice cream sundae then to murder about three-hundred people on an ultra-violent video game,” Vega declared as I met her on the sidewalk.
For one moment, I thought about grabbing her hand, pulling her to the car, spilling the details of what was going on, beg her to pack a bag, and run away with me.
I couldn’t do that, though.
So I agreed to get ice cream.
Then I shut myself in the bathroom, buried deep in scalding hot water, as she yelled at and insulted and cursed out some guys on the game she was playing.
I don’t know how many times I refilled the tub, but by the time my neck was aching from leaning against the edge of it, Vega was quiet.
Gone to bed, I figured.
It wasn’t until I walked out that I realized I’d miscalculated.
She was silent because she was no longer in the apartment.
And in her place was Cesare.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Mere
“What are you doing here?” My voice came out breathless. And I honestly couldn’t tell you if it was from surprise or pleasure.
I felt both.
Even though I’d spent a larger chunk of my bath than I’d like to admit thinking about all the reasons I needed to not be interested in Cesare anymore.
Or, let’s be real, in the first place.
Starting with the fact that he wasn’t a resident, that he wasn’t going to be staying, that there was no future in it.
And as much as I hated to admit it, I was someone who was looking for that. I would be sad, if not downright heartbroken, if things progressed and then he suddenly was on his way back to the city like nothing had happened, like I meant nothing.
It was for the best to end things now, no matter how much my body objected to it.
Even just looking at him in his well-tailored charcoal gray suit with the matte black shirt beneath had my sex clenching, making me press my thighs together to ease the ache.
“I had to go thirty minutes out of town to get ‘em, and when I really thought about it on the way back, I figured that maybe bringing flowers to a florist was a stupid fucking idea,” he said, waving a hand toward the kitchen counter where an arrangement sat in a brand new vase.
I didn’t know where he’d gone, or how much input he’d had on the arrangement, but holy hell did he do a good job.
The whole thing was in moody shades of purple with just the barest amount of eucalyptus around to give it some greenery. Lighter purple, puffy round alliums were mixed with deep and medium shades of purple scabiosa.
The vase itself was a simple, tasteful wide cylindrical shape that gave the flowers a little room to breathe, not be crammed all together.
The flowers themselves weren’t exactly expensive in and of themselves, but they were rare for your average, everyday floral arrangements. Which meant he’d probably paid a nice chunk of money for it, all together.
Easily over a hundred. Depending on the town and shop, closer to two.
I know it was silly to feel emotional over it, especially given my trade, but the thing was… no one had ever gotten me flowers before.
Not men I’d dated because, well, they just… didn’t care enough, I guess.
And not Vega because she thought, like Cesare had just said, that it would be silly to get a florist flowers as a present.
“Besides, flowers pretty much wilt and die when I look at them,” she’d once said, smirking.
“They’re beautiful,” I said, blinking rapidly to ease the sting behind my eyes. “I don’t know why you got them, but you did a good job.”
“Figured maybe I fucked up somehow without realizing it,” Cesare admitted, and there was something off in his voice that had my gaze moving from the flowers and back to him, finding him almost a bit… fidgety. Which went against the whole cool, calm, collected, and confident air he always had about him.