Forty-five minutes. Forty-five agonizing, air-conditioning-struggling minutes later, the line of cars finally crawled forward, the twisted wreck of two sedans smashed against the guardrail a grim reminder of our wasted time.

By the time we pulled into the flower farm, the sun was already slipping toward the horizon, a warm, golden glow washing over the sprawling fields of wild blooms and neat rows of carefully cultivated flowers.

“Please tell me we’re not too late,” I muttered, slamming the door shut and striding toward the small, rustic reception building.

The woman behind the desk looked up, a warm, polite smile on her face. “Evening. How can I help you folks?”

“We’re here to pick up an order,” I said, pulling out my phone and showing her the text from Sophie. “Lilies, lavender, and white roses.”

“Oh, yes.” The woman’s smile faltered just slightly. “We have your flowers, but the arrangements won’t be ready until tomorrow morning.”

“What?” I felt the tension in my shoulders spike again, my jaw tightening. “We were supposed to have them today.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, the apology in her voice sounding genuine but entirely useless. “We’re short-staffed, and the accident on the highway delayed a few of our workers.”

“Great.” I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to force back the frustration, but Olivia was already leaning on the counter, flashing that wild, easy grin of hers.

“Well, that’s a shame. I guess we’ll have to spend the night here. Let me guess—you only have one room with one bed left,right?”

The woman blinked, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. “Oh, no, actually, we have plenty of rooms available.”

Olivia’s smile didn’t falter. She leaned a little closer, slipped a crisp twenty-dollar bill across the counter, and whispered, “Fortomorrow, right now you only have one free.”

The woman glanced down at the bill, then back up at Olivia, and a slow, conspiratorial smile crept across her lips. “Actually… it seems we do have just one room left.”

“Shocking.” Olivia winked, snatching the keycard the woman handed her.

I shook my head, a faint, exasperated laugh slipping from me as we walked out of the reception building, the warm, golden light spilling over the fields, the soft, lazy buzz of cicadas filling the air.

“So that’s your trick?” I asked, shoving my hands into my pockets. “Bribery?”

“Please, that was persuasion.” She tossed the keycard in the air, catching it with a practiced flick of her fingers. “Bribery would’ve cost more.”

“Clever.” I smirked, falling into step beside her as we made our way to the quaint little cottage nestled at the edge of the field.

Inside, the room was cozy—warm wooden walls, a soft, thick rug, a large, inviting bed covered in a quilt that looked older than I was.

I hesitated at the door, then cleared my throat. “If you need more space, I can sleep on the floor.”

She turned, one dark eyebrow arching, her gaze sharp, almost dangerous. “Do you have a death wish?”

“Excuse me?”

“We did not play cat and mouse in that sweltering car for hours just so you could pretend to be a gentleman now.” She stepped closer, the keycard slipping from her fingers, falling to the bed with a soft thud. “So unless you’re afraid of being eaten alive, I suggest you drop the whole‘honorable Alpha’ act.”

My lips curled into a slow, wicked smile, the tension that had twisted in my chest since we left the hotel finally easing, replaced by a slow, simmering heat.

“Oh, I’m not afraid.” I took a step toward her, letting the door click shut behind me, the warm, golden light of the setting sun spilling through the window, casting soft shadows across her sharp, defiant features.

“Good.” Her hands slipped to the hem of her Metallica shirt, pulling it over her head in one smooth motion, leaving her in nothing but that fierce, wild smile and the soft, black lace of her bra. “Because I’m done playing.”

I crossed the distance between us, my fingers tangling in her hair, my mouth crashing against hers in a fierce, hungry kiss.

And this time, there was no traffic, no delays, nothing in the world that could stop me.

Her lips were warm, soft, and wild against mine, her hands already slipping beneath my shirt, her fingers tracing the lines of muscle along my back. The heat between us was instant, fierce, but before I could pull her closer, before I could lose myself in the soft, electric warmth of her body, she pulled back, her breath warm against my lips.

“Shower first,” she whispered, her voice a soft, teasing command. “I’m not getting tangled up with you all sweaty and dusty.”