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Vee snorts her amusement. “Right. I’ve had a few of those. But you? This is uncharted territory.” Muffled words come from the phone, like she’s talking to someone else in the room. “Listen, I’ve got some photo shoot crap to get to. But I hope things work out with Miss Haven. I mean that. And I expect to hear details next time I’m in the city.”
“Sure. Take care, Vee.”
“Bring her flowers,” she says before cutting off the call. “Even if she swears she’s not the kind of girl who likes flowers. Bring them anyway.”
Flowers. Huh.
Can’t really picture Haven getting all starry eyed over some plants. But it’s something to think about.
While I’m taking my time hosing off in the shower, I’m still thinking.
I know exactly where to find Haven today. Tess has mentioned that Haven always spends Sundays with Lita. It’s true that she might toss me out if I show up there. Yet I doubt it. And my instincts about women are usually on point.
That’s not arrogance. Just fact.
Yesterday I caught short glimpses of Haven shedding a little bit of her invisible armor. It was enough to get me interested in picking away more layers to find out what’s underneath.
Nothing about her is easy but I’m starting to believe that I’m sick of easy. Maybe I’m willing to work for something more stimulating.
A fucking challenge.
I can’t think of a bigger challenge than Haven. She’s sure to be a wildcat, both in bed and out. When I picture having those long legs locked around my waist while she whimpers as I ruin her pussy, my cock stiffens into a spike of iron.
With a brand new goal in mind, this day just got a whole lot more exciting.
Chapter6
Conner
The lone employee in the shop looks like she just crawled out of one of the flower pots. There are pink petals sprinkled in the feathery waves of her silver hair and a long string of floppy green leaves hangs from her neck like a fringed scarf.
But she’s excited to give me advice. “Choose carefully. Flowers are used to convey a message, a sentiment.” She hovers by my side as I slowly move down a long row of floral arrangements. Some are sitting in glass vases. Others are tied together with ribbons while hanging out in black pails of water. “The pink chrysanthemums in front of you represent joy and fidelity. Any flower in the shade of red is a love symbol. But I’m sure you knew that.”
“These are daisies, right?” I reach for a bunch of large white flowers with centers the color of egg yolks.
“Yes.” She claps her hands together. Two petals flutter from her hair and land on the floor. “White daisies represent purity.”
I pull my hand back. A purity statement is the last thing on my mind. White seems kind of bland anyway.
The woman pushes pink framed spectacles up her nose and examines me. “You didn’t mention the occasion.”
“It’s not really a special occasion.”
She produces a small pair of scissors from a pocket and clips a wilting bud from a rose bouquet. “Are you shopping for a friend? A relative?”
“None of the above.” As I scan the selection, I realize I might sound a little cold. I don’t want to sound cold. I just don’t have a neat way to categorize Haven. “We went to high school together.”
“Ah.” She nods. “And old flame.”
I don’t see much point in correcting her. Anyhow, I suppose there’s a crumb of truth to that.
It’s out of character for me to stand around brooding about the meaning of flowers. Micah and Gage would laugh their stupid asses off if they could see this. I should just shrug away all the symbolism and grab some pink roses or whatever. Isn’t it the thought that counts?
Still, some restless part of my brain forces me to bypass one choice after another. None of them seem right. None of them scream HAVEN.
A weird idea because I can’t imagine whatwouldscream HAVEN. Dead weeds maybe. Or one of those houseplants that eats flies.
The shop is arranged by color. I’ve now reached the purple section. The nearest bundle is a simple collection of small, dainty flowers tied with a matching ribbon. They strike me as a good compromise.
