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“The beautiful dozen red roses I received from you this morning.” She smiles brightly, then sucks her bottom lip between her teeth while trailing her gaze over my frame before looking back at me with heat in her eyes. “I always knew you’d come around.”
My face scrunches up as I look at her like she’s suddenly grown an extra head.
It’s official. Violet Buchanan has completely lost her mind. It’s obvious she’s having some kind of psychotic episode and is currently suffering from some sort of delusion. And if I don’t do something to pull her back into the realm of reality soon, I’ll end up stuck with a raging bunny boiler on my hands.
“Violet, I didn’t send you flowers.”
“Oh, come on,” she huffs with a roll of her eyes. “I know it was you, and this game of you playing hard to get is really getting old, Owen.”
“Trust me, I’m not playing anything. I didn’t send you flowers.”
“Yes, you did!” she fires back adamantly, stomping her foot like a defiant child.
“No, I didn’t,” I snap back, wondering what the fuck is happening right now.
“Oh, for the love of God,” she mutters, quickly digging into her purse and pulling out a card, then slapping it down on the counter. “You wrote me a card, you idiot!”
Lifting the card off the counter, I spot the Cygnature Blooms logo on the front before flipping it over and reading what’s on the other side.
Roses are red
And violets are blue
There’s not a girl in town
As pretty as you
O xxx
“See!” She taps a long-taloned finger on the card. “Your initial is right there! It was you.”
What the ever-loving fuck? Am I being punked right now?
Even though it doesn’t have my actual name on it, my initial is enough to imply that it was me.
The only other guys in town whose names begin with O are Oscar Buchanan and Oliver Hutchins. One is her father, and the other is a seventy-year-old farmer who’s been happily married for fifty years.
Which leaves only one person who could have done this. My eyes immediately dart to the dining room in search of the culprit, and upon finding her over at table twelve, my jaw clenches tight.
Sensing my eyes trying to shoot lasers through her back, she glances over her shoulder and gives me a saccharine sweet smile before turning her attention back to the customers.
Goddammit.
Well played, Mac.
Well played.
I should have known she would have something up her sleeve for today. She’s been threatening to get back at me for days after I’d left her locked in the storage closet for fifteen minutes and refused to let her out until she declared I was hotter than Liam Hemsworth. But of all the godforsaken ways she could get back at me, this is by far the absolute worst.
Violet has been relentless in trying to coax me back into her bed. And I had just gotten her to the point where it was finally starting to sink in that it’s ‘never going to happen.’
But this stunt Mac just pulled could set me back months or maybe even years. Even though she didn’t outright put my name on it, just putting my initial is enough to send Violet’s imagination running wild with countless possibilities.
“Look, Vi,” I say in an appeasing yet firm tone. “I’m not sure who sent you the flowers, but I assure you, it wasn’t me. That florist is in Kalispell, so perhaps it’s from someone you met there.”
I hand the card back to her, mentally patting myself on the back for my quick thinking. The population in Kalispell quadruples the one in Clark Falls, and there are probably over a hundred men living there with names starting with the letterO.
She takes the card back with a look of confusion marring her features before she speaks. “I honestly don’t remember meeting anyone whose name begins withO.”
