Page 67 of Cozen

Cozen laughed. “Well, I have a floor.”

And not much else. She hadn’t made much effort to fill the apartment with furniture, or otherwise. A good portion of her day was spent at the restaurant, and for the hours she was at home, she was planning, or meditating.

Who needed things to do any of that?

Not her.

“Just point and say,” the guy muttered. “Getting heavier.”

“Come on in.”

Cozen stepped back, and waved a hand as the guy passed her to direct him further into the apartment. She directed him through the entry hallway, and into the main rooms of the apartment. She had him place the roses on the floor next to the large kitchen window.

“Thank you,” she said.

The guy laughed. “Oh, I have ten more.”

Cozen froze. “Ten more of what?”

He pointed at the roses. “Of those. And here, this is yours.”

The guy whipped out a white envelope, and handed it over. Cozen took it as he turned his back, and headed for the front door. She opened up the envelope to find unfamiliar handwriting staring back at her.

All beautiful woman love their roses, don’t they? I hope you liked my gift today, Cozen, and this one, too. Remember, I’m always thinking of you even if I am not around to see you. –Jett.

Cozen blinked at the note, and she didn’t realize how long she had stayed like that until the guy came barreling into her apartment with yet another humongous bushel of roses. He had said ten, right?

Ten more.

Cozen’s place was not that big. She did not like roses that much, really. The heavenly smell would soon turn into a little too much.

She couldn’t very well tell the delivery man to remove the flowers, or take them away. She didn’t want to say the two bushels were more than enough for her small place. Honestly, she found her voice was lost until the guy had heaved ten more bushels of those goddamn roses into her apartment.

“Uh … thank you?” Cozen said.

The guy put the last bushel in the middle of the floor. Her apartment was now a sea of red and white roses.

She had been right.

The smell was overwhelming.

“One last—”

“Does it look like I have room?” Cozen asked him.

Jesus Christ.

The guy laughed. “No … here, sorry.”

He bent down, and pulled a single, fire-red tiger lily from within the bushel of red roses. Giving her a little smile and shrug, he handed the beautiful flower over to her.

Cozen held it tight.

Jett would not have sent this flower to her, considering all the roses in her place. He didn’t know about her tattoo—she had not told him while naked in front of him that her favorite flower was a red tiger lily.

She fingered the petals with a careful touch.

“Same person?” she dared to ask.