for me?”
“I’m pretty sure. I could’ve sworn Matt, the usual delivery guy, said, ‘Flowers for Sophia Sterling.’” Louis shook his head. “But maybe I misheard. I can double-check with Mr. Lockwood.”
“Weston? Why would he know?”
“He walked over and said he’d take care of the delivery.”
Hmm… Something in my gut told me Louis hadn’t heard wrong. But who else would have sent me flowers, and why would Weston make sure these were delivered and not the others?
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll check with Weston. Thank you for letting me know.”
After Louis left, I needed to get the reports down to my legal team, so I put off asking Weston. Then the morning got so busy that I forgot about it until I was on my way to grab a chopped salad for a late lunch and noticed the sign above the building a few doors down. Park Florist.
On a whim, I decided to go in.
“Hi. I had some flowers delivered yesterday. I think they were from this florist, but the card was missing, so I’m not sure who they’re from.”
The woman behind the counter frowned. “Oh no. I’m so sorry about that. Let me see what we have on file.”
I smiled. “That would be great.”
“Could I just see some ID, please?”
“Sure.” I dug my license out of my purse and handed it to the woman.
She smiled. “Sophia Sterling. I remember the gentleman who came in and ordered these. He was quite the looker, if you don’t mind me saying so, and was very particular in what he picked out. I should have the card in our system. We make our customers type their note into our iPad so we can print it out nicely and don’t make any mistakes.”
“Thank you. That would be great.”
The woman typed into her computer and then walked to a printer and picked up a small, typed-up floral card. Handing it to me, she smiled. “Here you go. Sorry about that again.”
I looked down and read it.
The lips on your face taste almost as good as the ones between your legs. Apologies for the abrupt departure. Let me make it up to you.
Dinner in my room at 7.
I wasn’t sure if the florist had read it or not, but I felt my cheeks flush anyway.
“Uh, thank you. Have a good day.” I rushed toward the door, but on my way out, the refrigerator full of colorful flowers caught my eye. I turned back. “What kind of flowers were those that you sent me? I’d never seen them before.”
The florist smiled. “They’re blackberry ripple dahlias. Beautiful, aren’t they?”
I pretended I knew what they looked like. “Yes, they are.”
“You know, being a florist is sort of like being a priest. We get people coming in seeking forgiveness for their sins, and others sending flowers to women who aren’t their wives. You’d be amazed how many people tell us intimate stories while they’re picking out an arrangement. We make a habit of keeping our customers’ confidence. But I don’t think there’s any harm in telling you that when the gentleman who sent you those flowers walked in, he went right for those dahlias. I asked him if they were your favorite, and he said he wasn’t sure, but they were beautiful and unique, a lot like the woman he was sending them to.”
My heart did a little flutter. Only Weston Lockwood could make my emotions bounce around like a ping-pong ball. The other night had been amazing—beautiful and heartwarming and so physically satisfying. But the morning after, he’d seemed to shut down. Though, we’d talked a lot about Caroline, which wasn’t easy for him. So after he left, I’d tried to chalk up what felt like a retreat to just a somber mood.
Then the flower delivery from Liam came, and the flower delivery from Weston hadn’t come. And then there was Mr. Thorne. Who was he? In just the few minutes I’d spent with them, I could see there was an interesting dynamic there.
I smiled at the florist, feeling more confused than when I’d walked in. “Thank you for sharing that with me.”
Outside on the street, I started to compose a text to Weston about the flowers, but decided I wanted to see his face when I asked him about the two deliveries. So instead, I sent a short, vague text:
Sophia: Need to discuss a delivery issue. Are you free?
By the time I’d picked up my salad and walked back to the hotel, my phone pinged with the response.
Weston: I’m