Page 45 of Monster Among the Roses (Fairy Tale Quartet 1)

It made my chest ache for them. If the two were in love, it only seemed right that they should be together. Needing this to happen, and needing it with a fervency that was strong and totally foreign to me, I sat up straighter and announced, “We should set them up.”

Isobel finally stopped eating to blink at me. “What?”

“Let’s…I don’t know.” I sat forward, growing more eager the longer the idea brewed. “Let’s force some contact between them that creates an opportunity for them to, you know…develop into that stage where they can finally be together. Make one of them take the first step.”

I’d meant it to sound like we were only providing an opening for Lewis and Mrs. Pan to do what they already wanted to do, but my explanation kind of reminded me of some of the things Mr. Nash had said about Isobel and me when he’d hired me. I glanced at her, wondering—

But, no. He’d specifically said he didn’t want to buy her friends. So there was no way he’d been trying to buy her a boyfriend.

Was there?

A split second of fury hit me, wondering if that thought had ever even crossed his brain. His daughter was a beautiful, amazing woman. The idea that he might even consider forcing some man to pretend to have feelings for her was not cool.

But, no, that wasn’t what he’d been trying to do, so I calmed my heels and shook my head. When I focused on Isobel, she was gazing at me as if I’d gone insane.

“How do we create an opportunity?”

I shrugged. Romance was not my forte. “I don’t know. How do couples usually hook up?” It’d been too long for me to remember the dating world.

Her eyebrows arched in a silent, You’re asking ME this question? Really?

Which got me wondering how many romantic encounters she’d had. If she’d sequestered herself into this house since the accident, she would’ve only been seventeen when she’d basically abandoned the dating pool. It didn’t seem right. She should’ve gotten the privilege to have men fight for her, woo her, romance her, make her toes curl. She deserved that. She deserved the flattering attention from an interested pursuer, the heady rush of desire, the anticipation and thrill. It wasn’t right that she hadn’t gotten to experience any of that for the last eight years.

“What about leaving a poem for her and saying it’s from him?” she suggested.

I tipped my head, thinking that idea was similar to the books and seeds I’d left on her sofa. She’d never said anything about them, but warmth spread through me. What if that was why she thought “Lewis” leaving something for “Mrs. Pan” was romantic as well? I liked that thought. I liked it a lot. A big grin spread across my face.

“Great. Or he could leave her a flower or something,” I added, brainstorming from her idea.

Isobel nodded. “Yes! Lewis is an outdoorsy guy. That would make more sense.”

My eyes grew wide, and I snapped my fingers before pointing at her. “One of your roses. That would be perfect.”

She pressed a hand to her heart. “My roses?” From the look on her face, one would’ve thought I’d just suggested she rip a kidney from her back and donate that to the cause instead.

“Don’t you think it’d be worth it?” I pressed, curious just how attached to her flowers she really was. “Mrs. Pan would love it. And your roses…your roses are amazing, Isobel. That kind of beauty is meant to be shared.”

Her brow crinkled, telling me my argument had gone a little overdramatic, but then her shoulders fell. “Okay, fine. We can use a couple of my roses.”

chapter

FIFTEEN

I’d only suggested one, so the fact that Isobel was willing to give up a couple of her roses made my eyebrows lift, impressed.

But she must’ve mistaken my expression as me thinking I considered her offer meager. So she sighed. “Fine. I can put together a full dozen.”

Holy shit. I hadn’t thought she’d go that far. But I smiled. “Mrs. Pan is going to love this.”

Still appearing put out, she huffed, “Which color?”

“I don’t know.” Again, this was out of my territory. “What do the different colors symbolize?”

I thought she’d give me another look that told me she had no idea about that either, but nope. When it came to roses, Isobel knew her shit. “Well, red is obviously for love, passion, beauty, courage, or respect. White roses are for purity, innocence, silence, or secrecy.”

I shook my head. “Nah, we don’t want it to be a secret admirer thing. She needs to know they’re from him.”

Nodding in agreement, Isobel ticked off another finger. “Dark pink is for appreciation and gratitude. Light pink is admiration, sympathy, grace, joy, and sweetness. Orange is fascination, desire, or enthusiasm. Peach is appreciation, closing the deal, or getting together.”

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