Obsession (Natchez Trace Park Rangers #2) - Patricia Bradley Page 0,8

staircase on the right side. Once inside her apartment, she followed behind him as he checked out the rooms. “I told you there was no one here,” she said when he finished. “But thanks for checking.”

“No problem.” He stopped at the front door. “By the way, what was going on at Mount Locust with Trey? Is he always that grouchy?”

“Did he say something?”

“Wasn’t what he said, but how he said it.”

“He didn’t take our breakup well.”

“I got that,” he said. “Do you think he’s the one who shot at you?”

“No . . . He wouldn’t have known I would be at Mount Locust tonight. I didn’t even know I would be until I didn’t have this,” she said, holding up the folder. “And that report is still waiting on me.”

“Don’t worry, I’m going. What time do you plan to leave in the morning?”

“I’m always at work by eight, but you don’t have to escort me. I need to run by Walmart and get cat—” She slapped her forehead. “I can’t believe I forgot the cat!”

He looked confused. “What are you talking about?”

“There was a stray cat at the visitor center, and I meant to bring it home.” Maybe she should go back after it.

“How long has it been there?”

“I don’t know. Tonight was the first time it came around. I gave it some beef from a leftover sandwich.”

“It should be okay until morning, then,” he said.

She started to argue with him, but did she want to make another trip to Mount Locust tonight? The cat might not even still be around. “I’ll want to leave by seven fifteen at the latest,” she said.

“I’ll be here at seven ten.” With a tip of his head, he walked out the door. Almost immediately, her doorbell rang. She opened the door.

“Yes?”

“I didn’t hear you dead-bolt the lock.”

“Sorry. I would have before I went to bed.”

“Do you mind dead-bolting it now?”

“Yes, Dad.”

His face flushed. “I want you to be safe.”

She palmed her hands. “And I appreciate it. I’ll lock the door as soon as I shut it.”

Which she did and then folded her arms across her chest as his footsteps clumped down the stairs. Emma didn’t remember Sam being so bossy. Or maybe overprotective was a better word. Bossy would fit Trey better. Not that he would ever admit to the description. Trey simply never thought he was wrong.

5

A quick glance at the clock told him it was near midnight. His fingers trembled as he laid the nine gerbera daisies on the table. Arranging flowers calmed him like nothing else. He definitely needed calming tonight.

Refocus. This arrangement was special. He’d chosen daisies because they were a symbol of purity and innocence. Nine because it was the number of forever love. Other than his mother, he’d only ever given three women this particular bouquet.

He arranged and rearranged the white flowers and still was not quite satisfied with the bouquet. Perhaps a different vase. After rummaging through his cabinets, he found the perfect container—an antique pitcher that had belonged to his mother. As the flower arrangement came together, he thought about the last daisies he’d given someone.

Kimberly Fisher.

He clenched his fist, and a bitter scent stung his nose. The delicate daisy lay crushed in his hand, ruined. No! He had to have nine white daisies for Emma. Unlike Kimberly, she would understand his message, that she would be his, now and forever. Grabbing his shears, he hurried to the greenhouse.

People who thought they knew him would be surprised to learn he was an avid plantsman, but he was close to so few people he needn’t worry anyone would discover his secret. With a flip of the switch, light flooded a small room filled with seven different species of daisies. His passion, fueled by his mother’s love of the flower. She’d been such a gentle soul. Innocent. Pure. Not once in the years since her death had he failed to take nine daisies to the cemetery on her birthday. He’d loved his mother and despised his father who still lived. It was his fault she was dead.

“The woman you marry must be like the daisy,” his mother had always told him. “Pure and innocent.”

He snipped a perfectly shaped gerbera. Emma wasn’t like the others. But what if she turned him down? He brushed that thought aside. She loved him. He could tell by the way she smiled at him. The way her gaze lingered in his when they talked and the desire that burned in those eyes

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