Page 50 of Tempest’s Torment

"Lilah," she says, then opens her arms and Lilah walks straight into the hug. Cara holds on for a second, then steps back before Lilah has a chance to pull away. Smart woman. Her eyes find me. "You must be Tempest."

I nod. "Yes, ma'am."

She takes her time looking me over, and I let her. If someone I'd cared about disappeared for two days and came back with a biker, I'd probably be doing the same thing.

"Thank you," she says, voice soft.

It catches me off guard. "For what?"

"For looking after her."

"Anybody would've,” I say instantly without missing a beat.

"No." She smiles, but there's nothing amused about it. "They wouldn't."

"Can we not talk about me like I'm not standing here?" Lilah says with a frustrated sigh.

Cara smiles. "See? She's feeling better already."

Lilah groans. "Cara."

The older lady blinks innocently. "What?"

"Behave."

Cara shrugs. "I'm behaving." She smiles. "Coffee?"

"Only if it's no trouble."

"It's already brewing."

She heads into the back. Before Lilah can follow, another woman appears from the workroom, drying her hands on her apron. She looks at Lilah and then at me; one eyebrow slowly disappears into her fringe. "Well," she says. "This is new, you brought muscle," she says.

"He's my neighbor," Lilah says.

Louise makes a sound that manages to communicate complete skepticism without a single word. She looks at me. "You're alright."

I raise a brow. "That's what you're taking from this?"

She shrugs. "Cara hasn't thrown you out yet."

Louise disappears back into the workroom, Lilah follows her without a second thought, and I stay where I am, coffee in hand, watching the shop around me.

It's busier than I expected, customers drift in and out. Cara moves between them without missing a beat, answering questions while trimming stems and wrapping bouquets at the same time. Lilah slips behind the counter like she never left, there's no hesitation, no second-guessing. She knows where everything is.

I haven't seen her this relaxed before. She smiles more, is talking more, she isn't looking over her shoulder every thirty seconds. I like it. Probably more than I should.

She's fucking beautiful when she smiles, but it's more than that. I like hearing her laugh. I like when she forgets herself and starts talking with her hands, or gets worked up over something and her eyes light up. I like that little crease she gets between her brows when she thinks I'm talking shit.

I'm starting to like a lot of things about Lilah, more every fucking day.

Cara says something from the stockroom. I don't catch it, but whatever it is, Lilah laughs; she ducks her head, trying to smother it, but she's too late, I hear it anyway.

She looks over and catches me watching. "What?"

"Nothing."

She points the stems she's holding at me. "You keep doing that."