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She swore his eyes twinkled as he spoke. “Let’s.”
Chapter 7
Looked like he needed to change his plans. Up until now, he’d held off, unsure if it was necessary or not. Instead, he’d watched and waited, dividing his time between here and Dumfries so he could keep an eye on Rocco Raimono, which turned out to be a surprisingly easy thing to do. The guy was predictable. Every morning that week he’d gone for a run before the damn sun even came up. Two of the days, he ran with a friend but the other four he went alone. Then, except for this morning, he drove to the Marine base in Quantico where he spent the bulk of the day. He’d considered trying to get on base to learn more but decided it would only bring attention his way. Attention he didn’t want. Besides, it didn’t really matter what the SOB did on base. He only cared about what he did off. Once Raimono left the base, he returned home where he stayed until the next morning. The only night he’d done anything differently had been Wednesday. He’d gone straight from the base to Shooters Pub where he’d spent a couple of hours before leaving alone.
He’d been confidant Raimono didn’t pose any threat and ready to leave Dumfries for good. Then tonight he saw the guy’s pickup pull out of his apartment’s parking lot and something told him to follow the SOB one last time. Sure enough, he’d headed north toward Alexandria.
He’d gotten good at following and not being noticed. Something snapped though when he saw Raimono walk out of Arrangements By Gertrude with a huge bouquet. Rage had burned in his chest and he’d gotten sloppy. Raimono had noticed him behind him. Even after he’d backed off and parked, the guy had been vigilant, checking his surroundings, which was why he was sitting at home with no idea where his love was. Following the couple again once they left her townhouse had been too risky. Right now, Raimono didn’t know for certain he’d been followed. If he spotted the same car behind him again tonight, however, it would raise his suspicions. He couldn’t allow that to happen, especially when he was this close to having the woman he loved. No, until he figured out the best way to get Raimono out of the equation, he needed to back off a little.
Chapter 8
A week ago, he hadn’t even known there was a Botanic Garden in DC let alone cared to visit it. Yet, he was now heading down Maryland Avenue toward what the Internet described as a living plant museum. As if plants needed a museum of their own. But if he was bored to death for the next few hours, it was his own damn fault. Since Allison had planned their last outing with his preferences in mind, he’d wanted to return the favor. A flower-loving woman like Allison should love an afternoon gaping at flowers from around the world followed by a picnic lunch in Bartholdi Park. A picnic lunch he’d already ordered but they’d need to pick up once Allison either got bored of flower gazing or he passed out from hunger. Judging by the way her face lit up when he announced their destination, he suspected the second would happen long before the first. And damn but her expression was still alive and well in his mind. Any suffering he experienced today looking at friggin’ plants was worth the smile she’d given him. That smile had made his heart jump, and he’d been unable to resist kissing her. Then again, no matter what her expression, he found it difficult to not kiss her. Any straight guy with eyes would suffer from the same problem.
“Do ya want a guide?” Rock asked when they entered the building and passed by a display containing visitor guides in every language imaginable.
She gave his hand a little squeeze. “I think I could write the guide myself, I’ve been here so many times. Do you care where we start?”
?
??I’m following you.”
“This way then. I love checking out the orchids. Every time I come, there are different ones in bloom.”
Orchids, those were the big white flowers his mom bought his Nonna every Easter, right? Did a museum need to dedicate a whole section to them? Wouldn’t a shelf or two do?
“My mom tried growing orchids in her greenhouse, but she never had much success. She even traveled to the Philippines and handpicked the ones she wanted. They still didn’t survive. Her roses and gardenias were breathtaking.”
Trees and rocks filled the glass room she led him into. Flowers like he’d never seen before clung to the branches and sprouted from the vegetation growing close to the floor. Humid air filled the space, reminding him of the rainforest in South America—a place he didn’t have particularly good memories of and no wish to spend time in again.
“Aren’t they beautiful?” Allison released his hand as she bent to examine a light purple flower. “These are dendrobium orchids. Mom should’ve tried growing these. They tend to be easier than some of the others.”
“When you said orchid, I pictured the white flowers the stores sell around Easter.” He looked around the room but didn’t see anything that resembled those.
“You’re thinking of lilies. Those are pretty too, but I likes these more.”
To him a flower was a flower.
“Let’s see what else is out today. Usually there are a few hundred different orchids blooming at the same time in here.”
That explained the unique smell. It was like someone had taken a few bottles of perfume and mixed it with some damp soil before spreading it around the room. While not unpleasant, he wouldn’t want it inside his apartment either. “How many do they grow in here?” There was so much vegetation in the room, it was impossible to even estimate.
“The last time I read the visitors guide, it said the museum had five thousand different kinds. I haven’t read it recently to see if they’ve added more.” Slipping her hand into his, she led him around a slim tree and past a glass door leading into another exhibit. “We could come back every month and see different ones. That’s one of the reasons I love this part of the museum so much. It’s always changing.”
If this room alone contained so many plants, how many filled the entire building? While Allison checked out a flower the color of the sky at sunset, he checked out the room on the other side of the glass wall. “What’s in there?” Unlike the room they stood in now, the one next door wasn’t filled with bright purples and pinks but rather various shades of green.
“They grow medicinal plants in there. We can pop in there next if you want.”
At least those plants served a purpose, something he couldn’t say about the colorful flowers around him now. “You pick. I don’t know anything about this stuff.”
“I usually go in there last. That and the desert room are my least favorite sections. Sometimes I skip them altogether.”
Maybe he’d get lucky and she’d skip them today. His stomach might not make it if she insisted on seeing all the exhibits today. Already it felt as if something was trying to claw its way out.
“You should see it here at Christmas time. They go all out with decorations and they schedule concerts. Aunt Elizabeth and I heard a great church choir here in December singing holiday music.”
Every time she mentioned her Aunt Elizabeth, aka the First Lady, he pictured the woman who had stood near her husband when he took the oath of office. Unfortunately, that image only led to him questioning his own sanity. He had no business being with a woman whose relatives resided in the White House, yet there he was following her as she examined flowers, hoping she’d send him another of her killer smiles.
The sound of the doors sliding open grabbed his attention. With a tree and all types of leaves in the way, it was impossible to get a good look at who entered the room, but the high-pitched whine followed by a screech told him enough. Someone had an unhappy child with him or her.
