You Promised Me Forever (Forever Yours #1)(22)

I stop in front of the counter and stare at the wild arrangement. There are pink and yellow and white flowers of all shapes and sizes, mixed in with bursts of greenery. The vase is huge—it looks heavy—and when I see the card clipped to the plastic insert sitting there, waiting for me to rip into it, I hold back, letting myself soak up the anticipation.

“Who are they from?” Rhonda asks when I still haven’t said anything. She leaps to her feet, her hands on her hips as she glares at me, dying for me to speak.

Ignoring her, I touch a soft pink petal with my fingertip, then lean forward and breathe in the fresh, floral scent. It’s a riot of color, a mountain of blooms contained in one arrangement, and I almost want to giggle with happiness.

But I don’t. I’m not a little girl anymore. I’m a responsible adult who just got sent the biggest floral arrangement I’ve ever seen in my life.

“You’re holding out on us,” Rhonda says, her gaze meeting mine as she plops back into her chair. She scoots it closer to where I’m standing on the other side of the counter. “Is it from Cade?” she whisper-shouts.

How does she know about me and Cade? I was trying to be discreet. Work romances are usually frowned upon.

I glance around, thankful no one is nearby. “Nope.”

Rhonda appears surprised but recovers quickly. “Ooh, a secret admirer then.” She pushes away, wagging a finger at me. “Naughty girl, working two guys.”

“Um, I’m not working two guys.” I’m mildly offended by what she just said. Working two guys? She makes me sound like I’m doing the nasty with both of them.

“You know what I mean!” Another casual wave of her fingers. “I’m just being nosey.”

She’s being totally nosey, and I find it totally irritating. But I like Rhonda so I offer her a smile, grateful when the phone rings, saving me. While Rhonda answers and talks in her usual upbeat chirp, I pull the tiny, cream-colored envelope from its clip and open it, recognizing the slash of bold handwriting within.

He didn’t just call in this flower order. He actually went there and paid for it. Plus he handwrote the card himself.

Fuck the first move. Go to dinner with me tonight.

I bite my lip so I don’t break out into a shit-eating grin, but there’s no use. I’m smiling like my life depends on it. Maybe I should be offended by his boldness, but…I’m not.

I’m so not.

“Must’ve said something good,” Rhonda says with a low whistle after she completes the call.

I say nothing. Just pick up the heavy vase and start carrying it to the little office area where the assistant physical therapists have a shared desk. I carefully set the arrangement in the center of the mostly clean desk, then take a step back, admiring my flowers.

They’re absolutely gorgeous. No one has ever given me flowers before. Not like this at least. I received flowers from my parents when I graduated eighth grade and high school. Mom would bring me bouquets for our last band performance of the year. Jordan gave me a beautiful corsage on the night of our senior prom, but he never brought me flowers. Not that I can remember. Honestly, I didn’t need the gesture. If I’m being honest with myself, I just wanted him.

But now, the gesture feels…awesome. Like Jordan Tuttle is making this grand statement that he wants me.

That’s heady stuff.

My phone buzzes and I check it to see I have another text from him.

What do you think?

Pressing my lips together, I contemplate what I’m going to say. I go for simple first.

They’re beautiful. Thank you.

He answers me quick.

I mean about dinner tonight.

So impatient. I ignore his question and tell him:

I don’t know how I’m getting these flowers home.

What do you mean?

I commute to work. I don’t own a car.

Seriously?

I start to laugh. Yes. Seriously.

I’ll come pick you up, he says.

You don’t have to do that. I’d rather go home first and change. You don’t want to see me in the Atlas polo again.

I’ll take you any way I can get you.

My skin goes warm at his words.

He’s typing again. I see the gray bubble, the little white dots.

What time do you get off work?

Five.

I’ll be in the parking lot waiting for you.

“Wow, did Cade get you those flowers?”

I glance up from my phone to see Lena standing there, gaping at the giant arrangement sitting on the desk. I shove my phone into my pocket and offer her a tentative smile. “No.”

“Oh.” She sends me a confused look. “They look expensive.”

“I think they are,” I agree.

“Who sent them?”

“You’ll never believe me.”

“Uh huh.” She approaches the desk, bends her head to breathe in the flowers’ scent. The smile on her face can’t be contained, they smell that good. “So. Are you seeing someone else?”

Her voice sounds downright hopeful.

“I don’t move that fast.” Well, someone else is moving fast, I’ll give him that. “It’s…complicated.”

The smile disappears. “What about Cade?”

“Listen. Cade and I—he’s nice. I like him a lot.” Lena’s face falls a little. “But I don’t like him like that. More as a friend.”