Page 46 of Bookworm

"You got it. Thank you so much again. Have a good day, Mrs. Lee."

I waited to celebrate until I was safely back outside.I'd done it. I had gotten the job at the flower shop and followed Bo around all day and avoided detection. I'd also made the list currentlyin my pocket of all the ways I intended on helping him. Walking across the street, my fist-pump/happy dance was interrupted when a deep voice spoke out of the blue.

"Why have you been following me?"

I stumbled to a halt.

Bo Stryker leaned against the trunk of my car as if he owned it.

The frown on his face remained as I stared back at him like a kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

"Kent?" he prompted.

"I haven't been following—" At his look of disbelief, I said, "Fine. I did follow you today. Happy?"

"To hear you admit to something I already knew? I'm ecstatic."

Tilting my head, I asked, "When did you know?"

Bo pushed off of my car and came over to me. "The whole time. I can always sense when someone's tailing me."

"Yeah, right," I scoffed.

"It's true. Can't you feel it when someone's watching? When they'vegot eyes on you?"

Only when it's your eyes, I thought.

Ugh. I gave myself a mental slap. Sometimes being a hopeless romantic made you think/hear things differently. I had no idea where the thought came from, but I beat it back with relentless ferocity.

Hetilted his head. "Does it have something to do with why you were atmy grandmother's flower shop?"

"Yes actually," I said, "she just hired me."

Bo jerked back. "What?"

"I'm volunteering at the flower shop."

His brow furrowed.

"Don't look so upset, Stryker," I said.

"I'm not," he mumbled. "Just wondering what you said to getHalmeonito hire you."

"Itold her the truth." I gave him a shrug. "I'm going to help you while your hand gets better."

"No, you're not."

"Yes, I am," I countered. "I owe you, and a Kent always pays their debts."

"What are you a character fromGame of Thrones?" he snarked.

"No," I said, "and if I was in a book, it would definitely be one of the following: a cheesy romcom where I'm the heroine—or more likely the heroine's loveable best friend—a cozy mystery where I'm the loveable detective, or an urban fantasy where I'm the kickass-yet-loveable MC.Could also be a paranormal romance."

Bo's scowl was so sharp it could cut glass. "Kent, I don't want your help."

"Stryker,I don't care. You've gotit." I smiled as he stared me down, taking a step closer. "In fact, I'm going to be so helpful, that when I leave, you're going to wonder how you ever did life without me."

He grunted.

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