Page 40 of Sugar Baby Mine

| I was fine, not that cold today

| That’s beside the point. I would have driven you.

I frown down at my phone, pushing open the front door ofour apartment building and stepping outside, locking the handle with my key. I’m not sure what to say to him because I’m not sorry for leaving like I did.

Though this cashmere cardigan is warm, the morning chill still seeps through the fabric. Thankfully it’s only a five to six minute walk, tops.

When I get into the shop, Angela is bustling about the counter, setting out some premade flower arrangements into the front coolers. I slide around the counter into the back room after yawning out agood morningand pull an apron off the hook and exchange it for my purse. I tie the apron around my waist and stick my gloves and shears in the front pocket.

“What’s the plan today, boss lady?” I call out, tucking some hairs behind my ears where they’ve escaped the bun on top of my head.

“Valerie called off today, so I’ll need you till eight. Is that all right?”

“Yeah, no problem.”

“Great.” Angela leans around the door frame and eyes me with a curious gaze. She points to her neck and clears her throat. “You’ve got some, um—had a fun weekend did you? Oh, to be young. Enjoy it while it lasts, dear. How about you work on some of these bouquet orders while I go check the greenhouses down the way?”

I blink and put my hand up to my throat and wince. I barely glanced at myself after my shower, but I know there must be love bites up and down my neck. Oh well.

“Uh-huh. Will do.”

“I’ll be in the greenhouses for a bit then, if you need me. We’ll do some prep work for a Saturday wedding this week as well.”

Throwing her a thumbs up, I look through the order forms on the laptop and perch on the stool in front of the workbench to plot out what I need to grab. My ass is still so fucking sore today,I shift my hips forward till I find a comfortable position. Just thinking aboutwhymakes my whole body heat up, ready for a repeat performance.

Shaking my head, I crack my neck with a satisfying sound that shivers down my spine. I need something to do with my hands while I get back on track.

I pull and cut some ribbons, gather twine and straight pins, make sure the label maker is loaded, and get up to pull an assortment of flowers into my baskets to work with.

As soon as I sit back down, my phone nearly vibrates me off the chair again. I groan and nearly slam my head against the low hanging overhead light above the bench. I pull it out of my pocket along with my shears from my apron.

| Did you get to work safely?

I’m not sure why that makes my stomach flip-flop.

| Yes, the shop is only a few blocks from my apartment

| But thanks for checking on me, Dad

| Try again.

If I accidentally clipped a rose straight off the stem—well, it would only be the first of many for the day.

I don’t know what possesses me to do as he asks. It’s the fact that I must want to even though I love being a brat, because I love being a good girl, too.

| Thanks for checking on me, Daddy

| That’s it, baby.

| I miss that gorgeous little pussy already.

| You didn’t let me eat my breakfast this morning.

Oh, just fuck my razor thin thread of concentration for the day then.

| Breakfast isn’t always the most important meal of the day

I look away from my phone and grimace. I’m not sure this bouquet is the greatest anymore. It might be more baby’s breath than rose, so I stick another couple stems in the center and fluff out their petals. I wrap the whole thing in a sheer, black, crinkly plastic speckled with stars and tie it all off with a red ribbon. Filling out the card and sticking it with the bouquet, they go into the cooler to keep them fresh until pick up.

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