I sighed into the rim of my mug.
“I have a type,” I muttered. “Mysterious and gruff with secret soft centers.”
But this wasn’t just an attraction. This wasn’t even just the thrill of the chase. This was more complicated, terrifying, and a little too fast.
I had no business catching feelings for someone who lived on the other half of the country.
And yet, here I was, daydreaming about his flannel shirts and canoe kisses and wondering if I could ship muffins to Florida without them going stale.
I heard the knock at the door and blinked out of my reverie.
“Sienna, if you’re here to tell me my chickens are plotting again, I need a full hour of coffee first,” I called out, rising with my mug still in hand.
I pulled open the front door and nearly dropped the mug.
Ben stood on my porch, in a fitted black T-shirt, jeans, and a crooked smile that did awful things to my composure. In his hands?
A bouquet.
Wildflowers. Sunflowers. Sprigs of lavender and Queen Anne’s lace tied up in twine and wrapped in brown paper.
“Good morning,” he said, offering them up like this was a perfectly normal morning occurrence and not a romantic fever dream come to life.
I stared at the flowers. Then at him.
Then back to the flowers.
“Should I be concerned that you know where I live?” I asked, arching a brow.
Ben’s smile deepened. “Every single member of your family gave me your address.”
My jaw dropped. “You’re joking.”
“Nope,” he said. “Your mom drew me a map. Sienna sent a pin to my phone. Violet offered to walk me here personally. Beck…”
“I get it. I get it.” I groaned. “That is… horrifying.”
“It was surprisingly efficient,” he added.
“Let me guess,” I muttered. “It was payback from when we did it to her with Owen.”
Ben’s brows lifted. “She mentioned that, yeah. Something about a welcome committee involving fresh-baked scones and veiled threats.”
“Sounds right.”
He held out the bouquet again. “These are for you. As a thank-you. And also a bribe.”
I took them carefully, brushing a hand across the petals. “A bribe?”
“For more time.”
I looked up at him.
And I knew.
Whatever this was, however fast it had taken root, it was real.
It was happening.
