Strategic Maneuvers - Jemma Westbrook Page 0,75

Alaska over the years, but spending over half his life in Florida definitely gave him an affinity for warmer weather. He passed Mona his phone. “What’s the temperature there now?” He tipped his head her way as she woke it up. “The code is 1012.”

Her thumb hovered over the screen a second before she typed it in and opened the weather app. “Eighty-three.”

“Definitely not coat weather.” He risked a glance her way. “I’m not averse to the idea of getting to see you in less clothing.”

“Then you better hope your little friend comes out to play today.” Mona switched his phone off and set it in the console between them. “Otherwise it might be a while before anyone gets to do anything.”

“This can’t drag on forever, Love. It has to end sometime.”

“I would point out it’s been thirteen years, but I’m pretty confident he’s on a schedule now.” Mona’s gaze hung on a car sitting in the parking lot of a coffee shop.

“Don’t look too long.” Pierce avoided catching the car with his own eyes as he drove past the first of many sets of men watching them like hawks to ensure their safety. “You might show our hand.”

Pierce pulled into the small lot in front of The Garden, the florist shop where Amelia worked until it was no longer safe for her to do. He immediately got out of the car, as if he had nothing to worry about.

Like he was any other man.

He opened Mona’s door. She stared out at him with wide eyes and pale skin. “I think I’m going to throw up.”

“Excellent.” He held one hand out to her. “That will make this seem even more real.”

She grabbed his hand in spite of her obvious fear.

It was what made her fearless.

Fearless didn’t mean the absence of fear. It meant the ownership of it.

And Mona owned her fear. Stared it down while she pushed past it.

The shop was warm and humid when they walked in. Coolers lined with flowers of all shapes and sizes sat behind the counter where a young woman about Amelia’s age stood with a smile. “Hi. Are you here to pick up an arrangement?”

“Not this time.” Pierce offered her a polite smile. “We are here to look at your selection of indoor plants.”

“That’s cool.” The girl pointed to a room off to one side. “They’re all in there.”

“Thank you.” Pierce led Mona into the room. It immediately became clear where the moisture in the air originated. The windows of the space were streaked with condensation where the cold of the outside pulled the water free and collected it.

Mona stayed right with him as he wandered the rows of hanging baskets and potted foliage. Finally he turned to her. “Choose anything you’d like, Love. Whatever you want.”

“Oh.” She shook her head a little. “I’m fine. I pretty much kill anything green that comes within ten feet of me.”

He looked from the plants surrounding them to the woman at his side. “But I thought you liked plants.”

She shrugged. “I mean, they’re fine. I don’t hate them. I just can’t really grow any of them.”

“You don’t love plants.” He turned back to look at the row of snake plants. “Well then.”

“Wait.” Mona’s lips hinted at a smile. “What made you think I liked plants?”

He rocked on his heels. “I thought I heard you mention being upset at having to give your plants away before moving here.”

Mona snorted out a little laugh. “Eva bought me some fake plants as a joke.” Mona pressed her lips together for a second, her eyes moving from one side to the other before coming back to him. “Um. Is that why there are suddenly five hundred plants in the offices?”

“It may be connected.” He chuckled. “So do you prefer cut flowers then?”

Her head bobbed in a nod. “I do. Definitely.”

“Then cut flowers it is.” He wrapped one arm around her shoulders, savoring the final few moments of his first peek at what a normal life with Mona was going to be like.

Ten minutes later his peek was over.

Mona chose a beautiful arrangement of white roses, Peruvian lilies, spider mums, and button poms. She carried the packaged vase to the car, the blockage provided by the large arrangement making the squeeze in his chest relax a little.

The more difficult of a target she was to hit the better.

He tucked the flowers into the back floorboard before taking his seat and backing out of the lot.

“Now where?”

He met her eyes. “Now to the