Chapter 30: Chapter 29

I stared down at my phone. The unanswered text message glared up at me, taunting.

ME

How about dinner in exchange for you helping me wrangle Biscuit into a bath? Steak and roasted potatoes… Maybe something else for dessert? 😉

“What’d that phone do to you?”

Thea’s voice broke into my staredown. I quickly locked my screen and shoved the phone into my back pocket. “Boys are stupid.”

She arched a brow at that as she lifted another shrub from the back of a Gator and placed it in our display. “You say that like it’s a new discovery.”

I snorted. “You’ve got a point there.”

Thea paused as she reached for another plant, really taking me in. “Is that guy bothering you again?”

My brows pulled together. “Which guy?”

“Fancy-pants. Nice shoes, expensive watch.”

“Oh, Davis? No.” I hadn’t seen him since that scene outside The Mix Up. “Different troublemaker, and a whole different kind of trouble, actually.”

One corner of Thea’s mouth kicked up as she lifted another shrub. “Sounds like you might like that kind of trouble.”

I grunted as I reached for another pot. “I like it a little too much, I think.”

I wasn’t sure I’d ever been this invested. And it made me twitchy.

A hint of worry swept away the amusement on Thea’s face. “Is he playing games?”

I shook my head. “He’s not a game player.” Anson wasn’t the type. But the fact that he hadn’t texted back had a niggle of worry working its way into the back of my brain. Did something happen? Had he changed his mind? Or was he just busy working and didn’t have his phone on him? It was the middle of the day.

Setting down the shrub, I shoved it into position. “I’m not used to caring this much.”

Thea placed her pot next to mine. “You’re used to keeping it casual?”

“Not exactly.” I’d dated before, had a handful of relationships. But this felt different. I realized something as I thought back to the guys I’d been with in any capacity. “I think I’ve always picked men I knew didn’t have the potential of forever.”

Thea moved back to the Gator but glanced my way. “That’s a hell of a thing to realize.”

I chuckled. “I’m more of a mess than I thought.”

She stilled. “We’re all a mess, Rho. We all have our baggage. It’s how we deal with it that counts.”

I forced myself to keep moving, to keep lifting and sorting as if that would help the realizations not hurt quite so much. “I think I’m scared of forever. Of anyone who could mean that much to me.”

Maybe I avoided reaching for forever the same way I avoided reading the ends of books. Because I knew that, sometimes, forever got ripped right out from under you.

“Duncan told me about the fire,” Thea said softly.

I fought off a twinge of annoyance at that. I hated people talking about what had happened to me behind my back—or in front of my face, for that matter. But I knew it wasn’t malicious. Duncan was likely trying to look out for me by giving Thea the information.

“That kind of loss and trauma messes with your head,” I admitted.

Thea was quiet for a minute. “Sometimes, it feels safer to just keep everyone out. Removes the potential to be hurt again.”

My movements slowed as I looked Thea’s way. Shadows swirled in her deep brown eyes. “Sometimes, it does,” I agreed.

She swallowed hard. “But it can be lonely.”

“Look a little happier, would you?” Duncan called, striding toward us, his camera raised.

Thea jolted, her spine snapping straight. “What are you doing?”

He frowned. “We’re updating the website. Needed a few shots of the grounds and the staff working.”

The blood drained from Thea’s face, turning her olive skin unnaturally pale. “Did you take any of me?”

“Sure. You and Rho unloading the shrubs. But you guys looked about as happy as a kid who didn’t get any ice cream.”

“Delete them,” she snapped. “You have to delete them right now.”

Confusion swept over Duncan’s face. “You look fine⁠—”

“Please,” she begged. “You can’t put me on the website or social media or anywhere else. Please.”

The panic in Thea’s voice had true worry settling deep. She was terrified.

I grabbed the camera from Duncan. “I’ll delete them. He’s not going to put your picture anywhere. Right, Dunc?”

“No,” he said, dropping his voice low. “We’ll make sure of it.”

Thea set the shrub she was holding down, and I didn’t miss the way her hands shook. “Thank you. I-I’m just going to grab some water.”

“Sure,” Duncan agreed quickly. “Why don’t you take your break? You’re due.”

Thea nodded but didn’t say a word as she hurried off.

I quickly deleted any photos of Thea, but there were only a couple. There were more of me.

Duncan muttered a curse. “She’s running from something.”

I handed his camera back. “Yeah.”

“She tell you anything?”

I shook my head. “Only hinted at it.” My gaze followed Thea until she disappeared into one of the greenhouses. “I think we just have to give her a safe place. Maybe she’ll open up eventually.”

Duncan sighed. “You’re right. But I feel like an ass for freaking her out.”

I reached out and patted his shoulder. “You didn’t know that taking a picture would spook her.”

“Hey,” a new voice called.

I looked up to see Felix striding toward us, a bright smile on his face. I tried to answer it with one of my own but worry for Thea hung in the back of my mind. “Back again so soon?”

He chuckled. “My mom is on a tear this year. She said she needs more dahlias.”

The look of confusion on his face had a flicker of a smile finally reaching my lips. “Lucky for you, we’ve got plenty.”

“Thank God. Because if she keeps talking my dad’s ear off about it, I think they might be headed for divorce.”

“Come on, I’ll show you.” I glanced at Duncan. “I’ll finish these in a few. That okay?”

He nodded absently, waving me on. “Sure. I’ll be in the office if you need me. Want me to feed the kittens?”

“That’d be great. You’re the best, Dunc.”

His expression softened. “No problem.”

I turned back to Felix. “Let’s go save your parents from divorce.”

He chuckled. “You’re doing the plant gods’ work.”

“I need that on a T-shirt.”

Felix was quiet for a moment as we walked, but I could feel his eyes on me. “You hanging in there? I heard about the fire.”

I twisted my work gloves, my fingers needing a task. “I’m fine. Didn’t touch the guesthouse.”

“Silas and Carlos said the cops think it was arson.”

I would have to ream those two for being gossips. “They’re still trying to put the pieces together.”

Felix drummed his fingers against the side of his thigh as we walked. “You need to be careful, just in case. Keep your circle small. Your most trusted people only.”

I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from snapping at him. I didn’t need another protective male in my life. “I’m good. Swear. Now, let’s go get those dahlias.”

As I reached my SUV, I arched back and then bent over to touch my toes. The muscles around my spine protested. I’d overdone it just a tad today.

Tonight called for a bath with a heavy dose of Epsom salts. As I straightened, I pulled out my phone. It looked like that bath would be decidedly lonely.

I tried not to let the lack of response from Anson sting. But it did. Too damn much.

Beeping the locks on my SUV, I opened the back passenger door for Biscuit. “There you go.”

He jumped up but looked a little mopey.

I scratched behind his ears. “I know you miss your kittens, but Thea wanted them tonight.”

It was more than that. I thought she needed them. I could tell she was on edge for the rest of the day, the photo incident sticking with her. Maybe cuddling a few kittens for the evening would help.

Closing Biscuit in, I moved to the driver’s door and opened it. I hopped in and dumped my phone into the cupholder. I couldn’t help but scowl at the device. Maybe Thea had it right with the no-technology thing. There’d be fewer disappointments.

My phone buzzed, and I fumbled to grab it. A wave of disappointment hit me when I saw my brother’s name on the screen. Fast on disappointment’s heels came guilt.

COPE

How about a trip to Seattle? I’ve got an extra playoff ticket.

I sighed, my fingers flying across the screen.

ME

Thanks, but I’ve got work and stuff with the house. But I’ll be watching from here.

COPE

Come on Rho-Rho. Come hang with your favorite brother for a week.

ME

You mean my favorite doofus? Sorry, can’t. But I know what you’re trying to do, and I appreciate it.

COPE

Worried about you.

Another wave of guilt hit me, but I couldn’t stay stashed away just because my family was worried.

ME

I’m being cautious. Promise. Love you, doofus.

COPE

Love you, too, dorkus.

I dropped my phone back into the cupholder and pressed the button to start the engine. Carefully, I backed out of my parking spot. The nursery was already empty, but you never knew what random detritus could be in your path.

In a matter of seconds, I’d navigated to the property’s exit and flipped on my blinker. One of the things that I loved about working out here was the commute. I wasn’t sure if you could classify fifteen minutes on winding country roads a commute, but I claimed it as one.

Every season brought a new landscape. Fall had crisp skies and forests occasionally dotted with orange and red. Winter produced stark, snowy landscapes and breathtaking ice-capped mountains. Spring ushered in the endless beauty of wildflowers. And summer gifted the land with the ripple of golden fields against the majestic Castle Rock.

The wildflowers were just beginning to pop up now—my very favorite season. Before long, the meadows I drove by would be dotted with color.

I was so distracted by searching for those hints of blooms that I didn’t notice the SUV behind me until it was right on my tail. Black and oversized with a massive grille, the driver gunned its engine.

I scowled into my rearview mirror and tapped my brakes in warning. Freaking tourists. They were always in a hurry to get somewhere. Usually, the mountains or Castle Rock. Or maybe Crystal Lake, a couple of hours north.

The SUV didn’t heed my warning, only inched closer.

My heart rate sped up, those quick, tiny beats like a hummingbird’s wings. “Idiot.” He was going to get someone killed. Not that I could see through the sun’s glare on the windshield to tell if it was a male. But the vehicle screamed I have a small penis and must overcompensate.

I put my foot on the brake, slowing so he could—and hopefully would—go around me. But instead, the person behind the wheel gunned it and slammed into the back of my SUV. My head snapped forward, hitting the wheel with a force that had me seeing stars.

Biscuit let out a yelp from the back seat, but thankfully, the fabric divider kept him from doing a header into the front.

I pressed harder on the brake as my SUV slid to the side of the road, hitting gravel. I did my best to course correct, not wanting to slide down the steep embankment on my right. It wasn’t horribly deep, but it wasn’t shallow either, and I didn’t want to find out what damage it could do.

Behind me, an engine revved again, and I cursed.

My gaze flew to the rearview mirror to see the SUV backing up and then jolting into drive. Panic seared me, and blood roared in my ears. I pressed down on the accelerator, trying to find a route that would get me out of the black SUV’s path. But there was nowhere to go. Two lanes and a ravine on either side.

The world slowed. Everything happened in snapshots. The beat of my heart, the click of the shutter.

The SUV slammed into me, and then we were spinning. Round and round, so fast the world blurred. And then, I was going over.