Page 29 of The Florist and Her Alphas

She has been waiting for hours.

“Every single detail,” she says. “Start with the kiss.”

I open my mouth. “I didn’t⁠—”

“You did.” She leans forward another inch. “You think I don’t watch my doorbell camera? The app sent me a motion alert at nine forty-seven PM, Lia. I watched the whole thing.”

“Mira.”

“His hand was on your face.” She says it reverently, like a benediction.

My face is already burning. I press the coffee mug to my cheek and look at the pigeon.

“He took me to a fair,” I say finally, because the smile breaks through before I can stop it, cracking the surface of my very reasonable intention to be dignified about this.

Mira’s eyes go wide. “A fair.”

“On the waterfront.”

“Of course.” She sits back and shakes her head slowly. “Of course it was the waterfront. With the view. Tell me everything.”

So I tell her. Not everything, but enough to appease her. About Pepper, who destroyed my flowers, and Julian paying for it. About the bench by the water, and his apology.

“He apologized,” I say. “For how they came at me at the meeting.”

Mira is quiet for a moment. “And?”

“And I believed him.” I pull off a piece of croissant. “He said he’d fix it somehow.”

“Can he actually fix it? Or is this what it looks like when a charming alpha talks a woman into trusting him so she stops fighting back?”

I look at her. She looks at me. The question hangs between us, honest and cold, the kind of question I’m glad she asks because I’m not sure I’d ask it myself.

“I don’t know,” I say honestly.

“Okay,” Mira says. “And the kiss?”

“He asked,” I say quietly.

Mira’s expression changes completely. Her eyebrows go up. Her mouth opens. “He asked.”

“He said, ‘May I?’” The words are strange to say out loud. They feel too soft for the air. “He waited for me to answer.”

Mira stares at me. Her eyes are very bright. After a moment, she picks up her coffee and takes a long sip. “Okay. So he’s not entirely an alpha-hole.” She points her cup at me. “But Lia. He still wants your shop. He could be buttering you up so you don’t get a lawyer.”

“I know,” I say.

“Do you?”

“I’m not stupid,” I say. “I don’t trust easily, especially with how I was treated in my past.”

Mira nods, looking down, going awfully silent as she reaches for a second croissant. “Sorry for being too harsh on you. You’re literally my only friend who’s an omega too. I know you're not stupid.”

Tears spring to my eyes as I smile. “Well, that’s good to know.”

We both laugh, but Mira’s eyes move past my shoulder and fix on something down the street, going sharp.

I turn.