Page 26 of The Florist By Chance
I answer. Her voice is brisk, a little brittle. “Where are you?”
“At Delaney’s. Why?”
A pause. Then: “Because if you’re investigating this alone, Luke, you’re an idiot. Wait for me.”
The line clicks dead before I can protest.
And even though frustration prickles under my skin, something else threads through it too—a dangerous flicker of relief. Because if Mia’s coming with me, maybe this fight isn’t mine alone to carry.
The bell above Delaney’s Wholesale door jingles just as I’m shoving my phone back into my pocket. Mia barrels in, damp hair curling at the edges like she sprinted through mist. Her cheeks are flushed pink, her expression sharp enough to cut.
“You couldn’t wait ten minutes?” she says, marching straight toward me. “Ten minutes, Luke. That’s all I needed to lock up the register and tell Zoe where I was going. But no, you had to play lone ranger.”
I can’t help it—my mouth quirks. “Technically, the lone ranger had Tonto.”
She glares at me like I’ve sprouted an extra head. “You think this is funny?”
“A little.”
Her eyes narrow, but the corner of her lip twitches, betraying her. She hates that I can still make her almost-smile even when she’s furious. I tuck that little victory away.
“Look,” I say, lowering my voice, “Delaney basically admitted Titan’s leaning on him. They’re buying priority shipments. It’s dirty, but not illegal. And?—”
“And you were just going to deal with that yourself?” She crosses her arms, chin lifting. “I’m not a porcelain doll, Luke. You don’t get to shield me from this. The shop is mine too.”
The words sting, though I don’t think she means them as a jab. More like a reminder: she’s tougher than I give her credit for.
“I know it’s yours,” I say quietly. “That’s why I was trying to?—”
“—protect me.” She finishes for me, rolling her eyes. “Classic Luke. You vanish for years, then show back up and decide I need saving from every corner of my own life.”
There’s bite in her tone, but there’s something else too—something weary. I step closer, enough that I can see the faint smudge of pollen still clinging to her sleeve from this morning’s flowers.
“I’m not trying to take over,” I say. “I just… don’t want you carrying this weight alone.”
Her breath hitches, almost imperceptible, and for a moment the fight drains from her. But then she shakes it off and thrusts a finger toward the exit. “Fine. If you’re so intent on not leaving me behind, then we’re in this together. What’s next?”
I blink. “You’re volunteering to sleuth with me?”
“Don’t call it that,” she says, pushing past me toward the door.
We end up back in my truck, heading toward Bloom & Vine. The silence hums between us, and for once it’s not combative. Just charged.
“You know,” she says after a beat, “you’re terrible at undercover work.”
I glance over, raising an eyebrow. “Undercover?”
“You stride into Delaney’s like you’re about to interrogate him under a swinging lightbulb. If you’re trying to be subtle, maybe don’t glower like Batman.”
I laugh, the sound surprising even me. “Batman gets results.”
“Batman also works alone,” she shoots back. “And broods. A lot. Which, okay, maybe checks out.”
“Wow. Remind me again why I picked you as my sidekick?”
She smirks, and suddenly it feels like we’re fourteen again, bickering in her mom’s kitchen over who got the last slice of pie. The tension eases, laughter slipping in through the cracks.
But underneath it, something shifts in me. Watching her—jaw set, eyes blazing, refusing to be sidelined—it hits me how wrong I was. She doesn’t need protecting. She needs partnership.
