Page 40 of Blood and Buttercups

I swallow, clearing my throat as I pull my arm free. “I’ve been meaning to fix that.”

He looks around, frowning. “You take care of this place all on your own? It’s huge.”

“My brother helps, but mostly…yeah.” I laugh as I continue through the gate. “Don’t look at the flower beds. The weeds realized I was sick and are staging a coup.”

“I don’t suppose you’ll tell me what’s wrong, will you?”

I swallow again, my mouth suddenly dry. Keeping my eyes on my sunlit flowers all lined up in their tidy beds, I say, “That’s really more like friend-date number ten info.”

“Friend-date?”

I turn around, walking backward, feeling my cheeks getting red—a common side effect around the man. “You know—anouting between friends? I guess it’s a little premature to call you a friend, but you did cook me a steak dinner and hold my hand at the doctor, so I thought it would be okay to skip ahead.” I grin. “Besides, with the way you’re hanging around, I figured you’re a bit desperate.”

“You’re going to trip again.”

He’s smiling. It’s just a little smile ghosting across his face—a hint and nothing more—but it feels like a win.

I laugh, shaking my head as I open the cellar.

“You appear to be feeling better, though,” he says.

“I am.”

“The prescription helped?”

I feel for the light and then walk down the creaking wooden stairs, into the cool underground storage area. Playing dumb, I say, “Prescription?”

“The one you were picking up at the pharmacy when you ran into me. Literally.”

“Oh, right—that.” I grab two of the waiting buckets, smiling at Noah when he picks up two more. “I, uh, haven’t actually worked up the nerve to take it yet.”

“Why?” he asks, his voice going stern.

“I…well…” I shrug, brushing off the question and hurrying back up the stairs. “Careful on that second-to-bottom step. It’s a bit wobbly.”

“If your doctor prescribed you medicine, you need to take it,” he says, proving to be as tenacious as Olivia.

“Tonight,” I promise, smiling like I’m not lying through my teeth.

Because he doesn’t know me well, Noah’s skeptical look eases, and he finally nods.

Even with the wagon I keep outside the cellar, it takes several trips to load all the buckets into the truck. Once they’re secure, Ipull the retractable tonneau cover Max installed for me over the flowers to keep them safe on the drive.

Noah climbs into the passenger seat and hooks his seatbelt, looking mildly impressed when the old beast roars to life. “I don’t think that engine is stock.”

“My brother’s a mechanic. He did something that makes it louder and told me if I get pulled over because of it, I’m supposed to play dumb.”

“Straight-piped the exhaust?”

“Sure?”

“So, you’replayingdumb, or…”

I look over and laugh, startled by the teasing tone in his voice. “Hey.”

He shrugs, looking smug.

“How old are you?”

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