better yet, give you that flying lesson we used to talk about."
"Thanks, Rico, but I'm seeing someone."
"It ought to be me. Feel free to change your mind about that, too - anytime - and give me a call."
"If I do you'll be the first." She brushed her lips over his cheek before rounding the hood to her door.
"Do you remember Jill Burke?"
"Ah . . . little blonde, big laugh."
"Yes. She's single again, too."
"Is that so?"
"You should call her. I bet she'd love a flying lesson."
His grin flashed adding a sparkle to his eyes and reminding her why she'd enjoyed spending time with him. She got in, and sent him a wave as she drove away.
Considering the planters, plants, groceries, Emma parked in the back of Jack's building and as close to the steps as she could manage. She angled her head as she studied the little kitchen deck, then nodded. The planters would do very well there, very well indeed.
Eager to get started, she walked around to the front of the building to use the main entrance. The beveled glass in the door and the tall front windows brought in pretty light, adding a sense of style and comfort to the reception area. He'd been right to keep it cozy rather than sleek, she thought. It projected calm and quiet dignity, while she knew in the individual offices and planning rooms chaos often reigned.
"Hi, Michelle."
"Emma." The woman working on a computer at a ruthlessly organized desk stopped to shift her chair.
"How are you?"
"I'm great. How are you feeling?"
"Twenty-nine weeks and counting." Michelle patted her baby belly. "We're perfect. I love your sandals."
"Me, too. I just bought them."
"They're great. Monday night date, right?"
"Exactly."
"You're a little early, aren't you?"
"New plan. Is Jack busy? I haven't actually told him the new plan."
"He's not back yet. Running late, glitch on a site. Not very happy with the subs or the new county inspector, or, well, anything just at the moment."
"Oh." Emma winced. "Well, my new plan is either very good or very bad under those circumstances."
"Can you share?"
"Sure. I thought I'd cook dinner, surprise him with that and some planters for his little deck. Dinner and a movie at home, instead of going out."
"If you want my opinion, it's inspired. I think he'd be thrilled to have a home-cooked meal after the day he's put in. You can call and check, but he may be in round three with the building inspector."
"Why don't we just let that play out? The problem is, Michelle, I don't have a key."
There was a beat, just a quick bump of surprise. "Oh, well, that's no problem." Michelle opened a drawer of her desk to fish out a spare set.
"Are you sure it's okay?" And how mortifying is it, Emma thought, to have to ask?
"I can't think of why it wouldn't be. You and Jack have been friends for years, and now you're . . ."
"Yes, we are," Emma said, deliberately bright. "Second problem? The two planters I bought weigh about fifty pounds each."
"Chip's in the back. I'll send him out."
"Thanks, Michelle," Emma said as she took the keys. "You're a lifesaver."
She closed her hand around the keys as she started around to the back again. No point, she told herself, in feeling embarrassed. No point in feeling slighted that the man she'd been sleeping with for nearly three months - and had known for more than a decade - hadn't bothered to give her a key. It wasn't symbolic, for God's sake. He wasn't locking her out. He was just . . . It didn't matter. She would forge ahead with her plans for the evening. Give him flowers, cook him dinner, and tell him she loved him.
And, damn it, she was going to ask for a key.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
SHE SPENT A HAPPY HOUR PUTTING AWAY GROCERIES, ARRANGING the sunflowers she'd brought from her stock for his kitchen counter, then prepping the planters. She'd been right, she thought, about how perfect they'd be flanking the door. Deep, bold spots of color, she decided as she tucked red salvia behind purple heliotrope. The combination of plants she'd chosen would give him color and bloom all season, and be even showier when the lobelia spilled and the sweet alys sum foamed over the lip.
A nice welcome home, she thought, every time he walked up the stairs. And, she thought with a little smile, a living reminder of the woman who'd laid out that welcome. Sitting back on her heels, she