Page 59 of Wrecked for Love
22
CLAIRE
I felt like a kid in a candy store as I wandered through the garden center. Roses, sunflower seeds, lavender, and a handful of herbs quickly found their way into my cart, along with a grow light, seed trays, and a heating mat for my winter project.
The sweet scents filled my senses, sparking a renewed purpose. The temperatures outside dipped steadily each day as fall progressed, but that only spurred me on to add to my growing collection. After all, I was finally bringing my dream of an indoor nursery to life, creating my own floral haven as the snow would soon reign outside.
At the counter, I found myself chatting with the lady about growing sunflowers and roses indoors—a challenge I’d set for myself.
“You know, sunflowers can be a bit fussy with their light,” she remarked, ringing up my purchases. “They love the sun but get stubborn if there’s too much wind.”
I grinned, nodding. “Sounds like me some days. Luckily, they’ll be indoors. My landlord mentioned a sunny spot in the cottage that catches the light in winter.”
“Perfect! If you notice the seedlings stretching too much or looking pale, just switch on the grow light for a boost,” she suggested.
Then, out of the corner of my eye, a familiar figure appeared in the store uniform. I recognized him instantly—the boy I’d seen biking near The Willow and at the shelter fundraiser, trying to make friends with Oscar.
“Oh, that’s Daniel,” the lady said, noticing my gaze. “He doesn’t say much, but he’s a sweet kid. Very hardworking. He’s here on the weekends and does deliveries for me when he’s got free time.”
I waved at him. He returned the gesture, the same shy but warm smile lighting up his face, just like the day we first crossed paths. Then, he slipped behind a shelf in the back aisle. Not wanting to seem like a rugrat wrangler, I let him be and made my way back to The Willow.
Feeling on top of the world, I pulled out my phone and called Elia. No answer—he was probably busy with his cattle in Billings or maybe counting money. He’d been very excited about the auction.
I left him a message, knowing I wouldn’t see him for hours yet.
“Hey there, cowboy. Any plans to spoil a gal with a steak dinner after your next big score? Don’t leave me hanging—or worse, stuck with salad. Call me when you’re done conquering the day.”
After signing off with a kiss, I hung up and set my phone on the kitchen counter, eager to get started on the nursery. While other homes were gearing up with Christmas decorations, I left the holiday spirit over at The Lazy Moose. Elia planned to pick up a tree next week. As for this cottage, I only wanted a simple wreath on the front door—if I could just remember where I’d put the hammer and nails.
I rolled up my sleeves, cleared some space near the back window, arranged the pots and trays, and set up the grow lights and heating mats for the seedlings. It felt like I was carving out a small patch of summer, even as the cold pressed closer outside.
Everything was coming together beautifully when I suddenly realized—silly me! I’d left the sunflower seeds back at the garden center. Oh well, no big deal. I could swing by tomorrow and grab them. For now, I could give the roses a head start and begin prepping their soil, getting them into place.
Time flew by as I worked, the hours slipping past until I noticed the hues of sunset filtering through the windows. I stepped back, admiring the setup. The sunflowers would be the final touch to complete this phase of the project. After that, it would be all about patience, care, and watching new life bloom through the cold months ahead.
For now, while waiting for Elia, I could take a bath and try out the mountain sage bath bomb I’d picked up in town. But before I could even make it to the bathroom, a figure appeared behind me.
A sharp tension pulled at my insides.
Armand Voss. Little Vossy.
I hadn’t locked the door and he had helped himself, but he had been quiet, that was sure.
“Get the hell out of here!” I shouted, standing my ground. I summoned every ounce of strength I could, but he didn’t even flinch. Instead, he flashed a grin that sent equal parts chill and irritation through me.
“Oh, that’s right—I forgot how fiery you can get,” he said as if my resistance turned him on.
He walked around like he owned the place, peeling off his jacket and flinging it onto a chair. A rush of fear hit me as I dashed to the living room and yanked open a drawer, my hands scrambling inside.
“Looking for your little Ruger? It’s in my car, doll,” he sneered. “I knew you always kept it in that drawer. Most people throw in a TV remote or some trashy magazines, but you? Nah, you’re different. And at night? You’d take it right into the bedroom with you, wouldn’t you?”
Shit! He’s been watching me?
He let out a sleazy growl, like a second-rate pimp in a bad movie. “A woman who knows how to shoot? Damn, that’s sexy.” His eyes gleamed with a sick satisfaction, feeding off my fear.
“So you know to stay the hell away from me,” I spat back, my voice steady despite the terror crawling up my throat.
There was something different about him now. This wasn’t like our run-in at Raven Bluff. It felt like he’d been waiting for the perfect moment to strike, and now he was ready to pounce.
