The mafia boss asked how her date went, and her answer made the most feared man in Des Moines finally lose control
“I’m fine.”
“Did you touch it?”
“Yes, but—”
“Your mouth?”
“No.”
“Your eyes?”
“No.”
She stared down at their joined hands.
His were shaking.
“Ronan.”
It was the first time she almost used his first name.
She stopped herself.
“Mr. Devereaux, you’re shaking.”
“I am not.”
“You absolutely are.”
His eyes lifted to hers.
For one strange second, the most feared man she had ever met looked terrified.
Not for himself.
For her.
The next morning, a twenty-three-year-old security man named Teddy Nolan appeared outside Wildflower & Vine.
“I’ve been assigned to the block,” he explained.
“Why?”
“Mr. Devereaux believes the sidewalk requires supervision.”
“It’s a sidewalk.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“You’re protecting me.”
“No, ma’am.”
“Teddy.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She folded her arms.
“I don’t need protection.”
Teddy nodded solemnly.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Then he stayed for seven months.
Ronan doubled her contracts.
Felicity returned the extra money.
He looked personally offended.
“You saved my life.”
“And?”
“And I’m attempting to compensate you.”
“You pay me for flowers.”
“This is different.”
“No.”
People did not tell Ronan Devereaux no.
Felicity did it twice before breakfast.
He stared at the check she pushed back across the table.
“Why?”
“Because if I take money every time I care whether you live, eventually you’ll misunderstand why I care.”
The words slipped out before she could stop them.
Ronan’s eyes lifted.
The room became impossibly quiet.
Then Dominic walked in carrying invoices, and the moment disappeared.
But neither of them forgot it.
Summer passed.
Felicity’s business recovered.
Her evenings at Ronan’s properties became longer.
Sometimes after an event she stayed to clean up while he worked nearby.
They talked about meaningless things because meaningful things were too dangerous.
Carnations.
Bad caterers.
Iowa winters.
Why anyone would charge thirty-eight dollars for roasted cauliflower.
Then one night, at four in the morning, Felicity woke on Ronan’s couch beneath his suit jacket.
He sat at the window.
“You never sleep,” she whispered.
“I sleep.”
“When?”
“Occasionally during particularly dull meetings.”
She smiled.
He didn’t.
Something about the darkness loosened him.
“My mother was killed when I was twenty-two,” he said.
Felicity sat up.
Ronan stared at the city.
“My father was supposed to be the target. She was standing beside him.”
Felicity said nothing.
“He told me afterward that anything you love becomes a handle someone else can use against you.”
Ronan’s voice remained calm.
“That was his only useful lesson.”
Felicity crossed the room.
She sat beside him.
Then, carefully, she put her hand over his.
He froze.
“My grandmother believed the opposite.”
Ronan looked at her.
“She said loving something gives the world a way to hurt you, but refusing to love anything means you hurt yourself before the world gets the chance.”
“That sounds less practical.”
“She grew flowers for a living. Practicality wasn’t her religion.”
His fingers slowly turned beneath hers.
And held on.
By September, Felicity knew she loved him.
She also knew Ronan would rather walk through fire than say he loved her back.
That was why Elliot Hayes became possible.
Elliot was an architect.
Thirty-one.
Kind.
Uncomplicated.
He came into Wildflower & Vine four times before asking her to dinner.
Felicity refused the first three times.
The fourth came after Ronan looked at her one rainy evening and said, “You should go home before it gets late.”
Not stay.
Not be careful.
Go home.
Marisol found Felicity upstairs crying into a carton of ice cream.
“You deserve someone who chooses you in daylight,” she said.
So Felicity called Elliot.
And said yes.
Part 2
Elliot arrived for their date carrying peonies.
That nearly ruined everything before the evening began.
Felicity stared at the pale pink blossoms.
“Where did you get these?”
“I called in a favor.”
“It’s October.”
“I heard they were your favorite.”
She should have been touched.
Instead, something uneasy moved through her.
Only a handful of people knew that.
Still, Elliot was charming.
He took her to a restaurant in the Western Gateway. He listened when she talked. He asked about Odette. He laughed easily.
He was exactly the kind of man Felicity should have wanted.
That was the problem.
Every time Elliot smiled, she remembered Ronan trying not to.
Every time he touched her hand, she remembered scarred fingers closing carefully around hers.
When Elliot kissed her cheek at her door, Felicity understood something miserable.
A good man could still be the wrong man.
The next afternoon, she went to Ronan’s office.
And he asked the question.
“How was your date?”
When she finally told him the truth—He wasn’t you. I hated that—Ronan looked as if someone had fired a weapon inside the room.
For several seconds, he said nothing.
Then he walked around the desk.
“I knew where you were.”
Felicity frowned.
“What?”
“One of my people reported it.”
“You had someone watching my date?”
“I have people watching the street.”
“That is not an answer.”
His jaw tightened.
“I saw a photograph.”
Her anger rose.
“You saw a photograph of me with another man?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“And I spent the entire night trying not to care.”
His control finally cracked.
“I failed.”
Felicity’s breath caught.
Ronan took another step.
“I told myself Elliot Hayes was good for you. Safe. Public. Ordinary.”
“Ordinary sounds romantic.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I know exactly what you mean.”
His voice dropped.
“I wanted to go there.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Because if I had seen his hand on yours, I would have done something I could not take back.”
There it was.
Jealousy.
Ugly.
Honest.
Alive.
Felicity’s heart beat painfully.
“You don’t get to want me privately and reject me publicly.”
Ronan flinched as though she had struck him.
“I never rejected you.”
“You told me to go home.”
“Because I wanted you to stay.”
“That makes no sense.”
“I know.”
For once, he sounded exhausted.
“My entire life has been built around never letting anyone know what matters to me.”
Felicity looked at him.
“And what am I?”
Ronan’s answer came after too long.
“The most dangerous thing that has ever happened to me.”
“That isn’t romantic either.”
His mouth almost smiled.
Then the office door opened.
Teddy entered pale-faced.
“Sir.”
Ronan turned.
“What?”
“Dominic found something.”
A second later Dominic appeared carrying a gray folder.
His eyes moved from Ronan to Felicity.
“I’m sorry.”
Ronan’s expression hardened.
“Say it.”
“Elliot Hayes’s firm has received payments from Marsh Freight.”
Felicity felt cold.
Dominic placed documents on the desk.
“Three consulting transfers. And one private payment directly to Elliot.”
Ronan looked at Felicity.
“No.”
She lifted a hand.
“Don’t.”
“You’re going somewhere secure.”
“No.”
“Felicity.”
“No.”
That one word shocked all three men into silence.
Felicity picked up the payment record.
“I went to dinner with him. I held his hand. If someone used him to get near me, then I deserve to know why.”
Ronan’s voice was dangerously quiet.
“You deserve to remain alive.”
“And I’m more likely to do that if people stop treating me like furniture they can move when the room gets dangerous.”
Dominic looked suddenly fascinated by the curtains.
Felicity faced Ronan.
“You want me to trust you?”
“Yes.”
“Then trust me with the truth.”
Ronan stared at her.
Finally, his shoulders lowered.
“Sit down.”
They spent the night reviewing files.
Gideon Marsh had spent more than a year pressuring Ronan’s legitimate businesses.
The poisoned dinner had been only one move.
There were real-estate disputes, freight contracts, political pressure.
Felicity listened until after midnight.
Then she found the photograph.
Her dinner with Elliot.
Taken from inside the restaurant.
“Who took this?”
“Cole Brennan,” Dominic said.
Cole was one of Ronan’s senior security men.
Felicity’s stomach tightened.
“Why was Cole inside?”
Ronan frowned.
“He shouldn’t have been.”
She looked again at the photograph.
Then she remembered the flowers.
“The peonies.”
Ronan looked at her.
“What about them?”
“Elliot knew they were my favorite.”
“Yes.”
“I only said that once.”
“Marisol?”
“No.”
“Teddy?”
“No.”
She stared at Ronan.
“I said it here.”
The memory returned.
Two in the morning.
Roses scattered on Ronan’s floor.
Cole standing outside the half-open door.
Felicity whispered, “Cole heard me.”
Nobody spoke.
Three days later, with Ronan furious and Teddy parked across the street, Felicity met Elliot in a crowded coffee shop.
She put the bank record in front of him.
Elliot went white.
“I can explain.”
“Then explain.”
He covered his face.
His younger brother had accumulated enormous gambling debt.
Marsh’s people owned the debt.
“They wanted information,” Elliot whispered. “Your schedule. Where you worked. Whether Devereaux was close to you.”
“So you asked me out.”
“At first.”
Felicity’s throat tightened.
“At first?”
“I liked you.”
“Don’t.”
“I did.”
She looked away.
Elliot’s voice broke.
“I hated myself during dinner.”
“The peonies?”
“Someone told Marsh’s man.”
“Who?”
“I never got a name. They called him the quiet one.”
Cole.
Felicity closed her eyes.
Elliot said, “I’m sorry.”
She believed him.
That irritated her almost as much as everything else.
When she told Ronan she wanted Elliot protected, he looked offended beyond reason.
“You want me to protect the man who lied his way into dinner with you?”
“I want you to protect the man who just gave us evidence against Marsh.”
“He touched your hand.”
“Ronan.”
“I saw the photograph.”
“Apparently.”
“I disliked the photograph.”
She stared.
“You sound twelve.”
“Possibly.”
Despite herself, she laughed.
Something in Ronan softened.
Then she walked closer.
“Promise me something.”
His face became serious.
“What?”
“No revenge against Elliot.”
A long pause.
“For you?”
“No. Because being better than Marsh has to mean something.”
Ronan studied her face.
Then nodded.
“For you,” he said anyway.
Two days later, Cole Brennan came into Wildflower & Vine after closing.
Felicity knew immediately that something was wrong.
Teddy’s sedan was outside.
Empty.
Cole stood near the door.
“Mr. Devereaux sent me.”
Felicity touched the silver emergency pendant Ronan had given her months earlier.
“Where’s Teddy?”
“Already moved.”
“Cole.”
His expression changed.
That was all the confirmation she needed.
He drew a handgun.
“I’m sorry.”
Felicity pressed the hidden button on the pendant.
Then raised both hands.
“All right.”
Cole looked miserable.
“Please don’t make this difficult.”
“You know my shop has cameras.”
“Not anymore.”
Two men entered from the alley.
Felicity was driven to an abandoned grain terminal near the river.
Gideon Marsh waited upstairs.
He was elegant, silver-haired, and completely calm.
“Ms. Ward.”
“You tried to poison Ronan.”
Marsh smiled.
“And you prevented it.”
“You’re welcome.”
His smile thinned.
“You are surprisingly difficult.”
“I work weddings. You’re not the worst man I’ve dealt with.”
Even Cole almost reacted.
Marsh stepped closer.
“Do you understand why you’re here?”
“You think I’m leverage.”
“I know you are.”
He called Ronan.
Felicity heard only Marsh’s side.
Transfer the riverfront property.
Resign control of certain freight interests.
Come alone.
Forty minutes.
When Marsh hung up, Felicity said, “He won’t come.”
Marsh smiled.
“You don’t believe that.”
She didn’t.
Ronan arrived in thirty-two minutes.
He entered alone wearing a black overcoat wet with rain.
He carried a leather folder.
Nothing else.
His eyes found Felicity immediately.
The bruises on her wrists.
The tear in her sleeve.
Cole standing behind her.
The gun.
Something terrible passed across Ronan’s face.
Then disappeared.
“Are you hurt?”
“I’m okay.”
“Felicity.”
“I’m okay.”
Only then did he look at Marsh.
“The documents.”
Ronan put the folder on the desk.
Marsh opened it.
His smile widened.
“You spent two years fighting for this property.”
Ronan shrugged.
“It’s land.”
“And your freight position?”
“Replaceable.”
“You’re surrendering millions.”
“Replaceable.”
Marsh glanced toward Felicity.
“And her?”
Ronan’s eyes never left him.
“No.”
One word.
Flat.
Final.
Marsh laughed.
“You really have become weak.”
Ronan stepped forward.
“No. I finally learned the difference between what I own and what matters.”
Felicity’s eyes burned.
Marsh’s smile vanished.
“Untie her,” Ronan said.
“You don’t give orders here.”
“I just gave you everything you asked for.”
“Perhaps I want more.”
Ronan’s gaze shifted briefly to Cole.
Cole looked sick.
Marsh noticed.
“Brennan.”
Cole stiffened.
“Kill her.”
The room stopped breathing.
Cole did not move.
Marsh’s voice sharpened.
“Do it.”
Felicity looked at Cole.
Not the weapon.
Him.
“Your mother comes into my shop every Sunday.”
Cole’s eyes flickered.
“She buys white carnations for your father.”
“Stop.”
“She told me you sit at his grave and tell him how Iowa played.”
“Stop talking.”
“She thinks you work for a hotel company.”
Cole’s hand shook.
Felicity’s voice softened.
“You can still choose what she learns about you.”
Marsh moved.
“Shoot her!”
A crash exploded from the stairwell.
Teddy appeared, blood running from a cut above his eyebrow, swinging a steel pipe at one of Marsh’s guards.
Everything broke at once.
Gunfire cracked.
Felicity’s chair tipped sideways.
Ronan crossed the room faster than she thought possible and threw himself over her.
Another shot rang out.
Cole shouted.
“Down!”
Then more men stormed through the terminal doors.
Dominic’s team.
The fight ended almost immediately.
Ronan cut the restraints from Felicity’s wrists.
His hands were shaking again.
This time he did not deny it.
“I thought I was too late.”
“You weren’t.”
He pulled her against him.
She felt wetness on his sleeve.
“Ronan.”
“It’s nothing.”
“You’re bleeding.”
“Not importantly.”
“That is not a medical term.”
For one second, despite the sirens approaching outside, he laughed against her hair.
Then his arms tightened.
“I love you.”
Felicity stopped breathing.
He said it again.
“I love you.”
No office.
No retreat.
No careful language.
“I have for months.”
She pulled back enough to see his face.
“You chose an interesting time.”
“I’ve had a bad evening.”
“You’ve had eight months.”
“Yes.”
“And now?”
His gray eyes held hers.
“Now I stop pretending fear is the same thing as wisdom.”
Part 3
At the hospital, Ronan refused treatment until Felicity had been examined.
The nurse became progressively less impressed by his reputation.
“Mr. Devereaux, sit down.”
“I’m fine.”
“You have a gunshot graze.”
“I’ve had worse.”
“Congratulations. Sit.”
Felicity, wrapped in a blanket with bandages around both wrists, pointed at the chair.
“Do what she says.”
Ronan sat.
The nurse smiled.
“I like her.”
“So does he,” Felicity said.
Ronan looked at her.
The expression on his face made the joke disappear.
So much love.
So much fear.
Felicity’s eyes filled.
The adrenaline that had carried her through the terminal finally abandoned her.
She began crying.
Not gracefully.
Not quietly.
Ronan rose before the nurse could protest and crossed the space between their beds.
He gathered Felicity against his chest.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“For what?”
“Every time I made you wonder.”
She closed her eyes.
“I didn’t need you to protect me from knowing you loved me.”
“I know that now.”
“You could’ve figured it out earlier.”
“I am not especially talented at happiness.”
She laughed weakly.
“No.”
His lips touched her hair.
“But I would like to learn.”
The investigation that followed lasted weeks.
Gideon Marsh had miscalculated in several directions.
Elliot’s cooperation connected Marsh Freight to shell companies and illegal payments.
Cole Brennan gave prosecutors names, dates, and financial records in exchange for consideration at sentencing.
The attempted kidnapping finished what the paper trail began.
Marsh did not disappear mysteriously.
Ronan refused to give him that luxury.
He was arrested.
Publicly.
Photographed in handcuffs outside the Polk County courthouse.
For a man who had spent years believing himself untouchable, embarrassment turned out to be a surprisingly effective punishment.
Cole was arrested too.
He had helped save Felicity in the end.
He had also betrayed Ronan and participated in her kidnapping.
Both things were true.
Felicity visited Ronan’s office one evening while he stood looking at Cole’s case file.
“You’re angry.”
“Yes.”
“You’re allowed.”
“That seems generous.”
She walked beside him.
“His mother doesn’t know yet.”
“She will.”
Felicity hesitated.
“Can Dominic make sure she’s okay?”
Ronan looked at her.
“Felicity.”
“She’s sixty-one. Her husband is dead. Cole paid half her mortgage.”
“He betrayed me.”
“I know.”
“He handed you to Marsh.”
“I know.”
“He could have gotten you killed.”
“I know.”
His voice hardened.
“And you still want me to help his mother?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because she didn’t kidnap me.”
Ronan stared at her.
Then rubbed one hand over his face.
“Your mercy is exhausting.”
“My grandmother said bitterness is just grief that refuses to admit what it is.”
“Your grandmother had opinions about everything.”
“She would have hated you.”
“I assumed.”
“No, then she would’ve fed you pie.”
Ronan glanced at her.
“That sounds contradictory.”
“You would have understood each other.”
After a long silence, he closed Cole’s file.
“Dominic will take care of her mortgage.”
Felicity kissed his cheek.
Ronan caught her wrist.
Gently.
“That was manipulation.”
“Yes.”
“I recognized it.”
“Too late.”
His mouth finally curved.
Three weeks after the kidnapping, the children’s hospital gala opened beneath the glass roof of the Greater Des Moines Botanical Garden.
Felicity had nearly canceled.
Ronan had not tried to talk her out of it.
That mattered.
Instead he asked, “What do you need?”
“Space.”
He gave it.
“Two extra delivery vans.”
They appeared.
“Teddy.”
Teddy, sporting six stitches above his eyebrow, arrived at seven every morning and declared himself assistant flower commander.
“No,” Marisol told him. “You’re bucket transportation.”
“I saved your boss’s life.”
“You dropped three ranunculus yesterday.”
“War is complicated.”
Wildflower & Vine produced the largest event in its history.
Felicity filled the room with copper beech, white hydrangeas, deep blue delphinium, and suspended clouds of ivory roses.
And peonies.
Dozens of them.
Marisol noticed.
“Are you reclaiming the flower?”
“I’m reclaiming everything.”
At five fifteen, an hour before guests arrived, Felicity stood beneath the glass dome wearing a dark green gown.
The room glowed.
Her grandmother’s notebook rested inside her evening bag.
The silver emergency pendant rested at her throat.
It no longer felt ugly.
It felt like survival.
A door opened.
Ronan walked in.
He wore a black suit without a tie.
That alone was alarming.
More alarming was the bucket he carried.
Felicity stared.
“What happened?”
“To what?”
“The flowers.”
Ronan looked down.
They were terrible.
Red camellias.
Pink alstroemeria.
Yellow ranunculus.
One badly bruised peony.
A ribbon tied around the stems as though it had lost an argument.
“I made this.”
Felicity covered her mouth.
“You did not.”
“I spent four hours.”
“You spent four hours making this?”
“Marisol refused assistance.”
From behind a curtain came Marisol’s voice.
“Because he cheats!”
Ronan closed his eyes.
Felicity started laughing.
Then she noticed he was nervous.
Ronan Devereaux.
Nervous.
He set the bucket carefully on a table.
“I read Odette’s notebook.”
Her laughter stopped.
“You what?”
“You left it at my penthouse.”
His fingers touched the red camellia.
“She wrote that this means you are a flame in my heart.”
He lifted the alstroemeria.
“Devotion.”
The ranunculus.
“Radiant charm.”
Finally, the damaged peony.
“And apparently this means prosperity, compassion, and a marriage with unreasonable flower expenses.”
Felicity laughed through sudden tears.
“That is not exactly what it says.”
“I condensed.”
He stepped closer.
“I spent my entire adult life believing love was a weakness.”
Felicity looked up at him.
“My father taught me that anything you love becomes leverage.”
Ronan’s voice roughened.
“He wasn’t entirely wrong. Marsh proved that.”
Her expression changed.
“But he missed something.”
“What?”
“That the answer isn’t to love nothing.”
Ronan took her hand.
“It’s to love someone enough that fear stops making your decisions.”
Felicity’s eyes filled.
He continued.
“I do not want you hidden in my penthouse. I do not want you protected so thoroughly that you stop having a life. I do not want you wondering whether I’m ashamed of wanting you.”
He looked around the enormous glass room.
“I want every person who walks through those doors tonight to understand exactly where I stand.”
Felicity squeezed his hand.
“You realize this sounds slightly like a threat.”
“It may contain a minor threat.”
“Ronan.”
“A tasteful one.”
She laughed.
Then he grew serious.
“I love you.”
The words still changed the air.
“I loved you when you insulted my orchid.”
“I diagnosed your orchid.”
“You were rude.”
“It was rotting.”
“I loved you when you returned my money.”
“That was sensible.”
“It was infuriating.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You are not.”
“No.”
His thumb moved across her knuckles.
“And I loved you when you went to dinner with Elliot Hayes.”
Felicity raised an eyebrow.
“You looked homicidal.”
“I was experiencing complex emotions.”
“You wanted to throw him into the river.”
“That was one of the emotions.”
She laughed again.
Then Ronan said quietly, “But you were right.”
“About what?”
“I cannot ask you to stand in a doorway forever.”
Felicity’s laughter faded.
Ronan’s eyes stayed on hers.
“So stay.”
He lifted her hand to his mouth.
“Not as an employee. Not as a secret. Not as someone I keep at a safe distance and call that protection.”
His voice dropped.
“Stay beside me.”
Felicity touched his face.
“Where everyone can see?”
“Especially there.”
She kissed him.
The kiss began gently.
Then eight months of restraint collapsed.
His hand slid around her waist.
Hers curled into the back of his jacket.
Somewhere behind the curtain, Marisol made an emotional sound.
Felicity broke the kiss.
“Marisol.”
“Sorry!”
A pause.
“I’m not sorry!”
Ronan almost smiled.
At six thirty, the gala doors opened.
Doctors arrived.
Donors.
Business owners.
Judges.
State officials.
People who knew the Devereaux name and people who pretended they didn’t.
Conversation shifted as Ronan entered with Felicity’s hand in his.
He did not release it.
That alone produced several visible reactions.
For years, Ronan Devereaux had appeared at public functions alone.
Always.
Women had been photographed near him.
Never with him.
Nobody had ever seen him look at another person the way he looked at Felicity.
He escorted her directly into the center of the room.
Not a back table.
Not a quiet corner.
The center.
Dominic watched them with suspiciously bright eyes.
Teddy grinned.
Marisol openly cried into a cocktail napkin.
Ronan stopped near the stage.
Someone handed him a microphone.
He hated microphones.
Felicity whispered, “What are you doing?”
“Something unpleasant.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I know.”
That was why it mattered.
Ronan turned toward the crowd.
The conversations faded.
“I was asked to say a few words about tonight’s event.”
He looked down at the microphone.
“I had prepared three sentences about pediatric medicine.”
A few people laughed carefully.
Ronan glanced at Felicity.
“I’m changing them.”
Her heartbeat jumped.
“The woman standing beside me built this room.”
Heads turned toward her.
Felicity suddenly wished the floor would open.
“Wildflower & Vine began as a small shop on Locust Street. Many of you have hired Felicity Ward because she is extraordinarily talented.”
Ronan paused.
“I hired her because a man I trust told me she understood flowers.”
Dominic lowered his head, smiling.
“I kept hiring her because she understands people.”
Felicity’s throat tightened.
“She has saved my life twice.”
The room became completely silent.
“The first time, she stopped me from eating something that would have killed me.”
Several guests exchanged glances.
“The second time was more difficult.”
His gaze found hers.
“She taught me that surviving and living are not the same thing.”
Felicity’s eyes filled.
Ronan did not look away.
“For many years, I believed caring for another person was something to hide.”
He reached for her hand.
“I was wrong.”
A murmur moved through the room.
“I don’t intend to make that mistake again.”
He lowered the microphone slightly.
“Felicity is not under my protection because she belongs to me.”
Her breath caught.
“She is under my protection because I love her, and because the privilege of standing beside her is mine only for as long as she chooses to give it.”
That sentence surprised even Felicity.
Ronan looked at her.
“And I hope she chooses it for a very long time.”
Dominic began clapping first.
Teddy joined.
Then Marisol, loudly and tearfully.
Soon the entire room followed.
Felicity laughed as tears rolled down her face.
Ronan leaned close.
“Was that sufficiently public?”
“You’re showing off.”
“I’ve been accused of worse.”
Later, after dinner, Felicity escaped onto the terrace overlooking the river.
The November air was cold.
Ronan found her wearing his jacket around her shoulders.
He stood behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Below them, headlights crossed the bridges.
The river carried the city lights south.
“Elliot wrote me,” Felicity said.
Ronan’s arms tightened by approximately half an inch.
“Oh?”
“He and his brother are relocating.”
“Good.”
“He thanked you.”
“I assume the letter was lost.”
“He said you were decent.”
“That sounds defamatory.”
She smiled.
“He also apologized again.”
Ronan was quiet.
“He was a frightened man,” Felicity said.
“Yes.”
“A frightened man who made bad choices.”
“Yes.”
“Sound familiar?”
Ronan sighed.
“I knew this conversation contained a trap.”
She turned in his arms.
“What happens now?”
His face softened.
“Now?”
“Yes.”
“Tonight I drive you home.”
“Very romantic.”
“I make dinner.”
“That sounds dangerous.”
“I have been receiving instruction.”
“From whom?”
“Teddy.”
Felicity stared.
“Teddy eats cereal over the sink.”
“He was confident.”
She laughed.
Ronan touched her cheek.
“Tomorrow, I buy one flower from your shop.”
“One?”
“One.”
“And the next day?”
“Another.”
“And after that?”
“Another.”
“That could get expensive.”
“I’ll adjust.”
She studied him.
The man standing in front of her was still Ronan Devereaux.
Dangerous.
Complicated.
Capable of frightening things.
Love had not magically erased the life he had built.
Nor had Felicity become naive about it.
But for the first time, neither of them was pretending fear could protect them from consequence.
Ronan pressed his forehead against hers.
“I’m not promising I’ll stop being afraid.”
“Good.”
He looked surprised.
“Good?”
“I don’t trust people who aren’t afraid of losing anything.”
His eyes closed briefly.
“What are you asking me for?”
“The same thing you’re asking from me.”
“Which is?”
“Don’t be afraid alone.”
Something in his face broke open.
He kissed her temple.
“All right.”
By spring, Wildflower & Vine had expanded into the vacant storefront next door.
Marisol became head designer and immediately began behaving as though she had been promoted to Secretary of Flowers.
Teddy bought a delivery van and kept insisting it was an operational vehicle rather than evidence he had accidentally become part of a flower shop.
Cole Brennan pleaded guilty and went to prison.
Every Sunday, his mother still came in for white carnations.
Felicity never charged for the first stem.
Nobody discussed why.
Elliot moved to Minneapolis with his brother and sent a Christmas card.
Ronan refused to display it.
Felicity put it on the refrigerator.
For several weeks, they fought a quiet domestic war over its location.
Felicity won.
And every morning before Wildflower & Vine opened, a black sedan stopped outside.
Ronan entered carrying two coffees.
One black.
One absurdly pale with milk and one sugar.
He would stand beside the counter and say, “One stem, please.”
Felicity chose differently each day.
A tulip.
A carnation.
A rose.
Once, when he had irritated her, a thistle.
He put every one in the ceramic vase beside the window of his penthouse.
Next to the orchid.
The orchid that had nearly died from too much attention finally bloomed again in January.
Felicity discovered it one morning and called Ronan over.
He examined the white flowers with grave concentration.
“I saved it.”
“No.”
“I believe the evidence supports me.”
“You stopped touching it after I threatened you.”
“Exactly. I exercised restraint.”
She smiled.
“That may be the most important skill you’ve learned.”
Ronan slipped an arm around her waist.
“Not the most important.”
“What was?”
He looked at her.
No guarded expression.
No careful distance.
No doorway between them anymore.
“Saying what I want before you agree to another date with an architect.”
She laughed.
“You’re never getting over Elliot, are you?”
“No.”
“He was nice.”
“I know.”
“He brought me peonies.”
“They were terrible.”
“They were beautiful.”
Ronan’s eyes narrowed.
Felicity kissed him before he could answer.
When she pulled away, he was smiling.
Not the restrained half-smile he used around other people.
The real one.
The one she had waited eight months to see without fear behind it.
Outside the window, Des Moines woke beneath a pale winter sky.
Inside, an orchid bloomed beside yesterday’s flower.
And the man who had once believed loving someone gave his enemies a weapon had finally learned something more difficult.
Love could make you vulnerable.
It could frighten you.
It could cost you.
But sometimes the greatest danger was not having something precious enough to lose.
Sometimes it was realizing too late that you had spent your whole life protecting an empty room.
Ronan looked down at Felicity.
“How was your date?” he asked.
She stared at him.
Then understood.
A slow smile spread across her face.
“Awful.”
“Good.”
“He wasn’t you.”
“Unfortunate for him.”
“I hated that.”
Ronan pulled her closer.
“I know.”
This time, when he kissed her, there was no fear left between the words they had finally learned how to say.
THE END.
