Page 103 of A Stealthy Situation

“I’m so excited to see how it all turns out,” she says over the phone. “I am floored you got your hands on a ghost orchid. Floored. I want to be there just to see that thing myself.”

I chuckle, still proud of myself over that one. Living in Florida and volunteering for different organizations over the summer definitely came in handy. “Well, I think we’re ready to start selling tickets. I don’t want the plants to be here long before returning to their homes, but I also don’t want to rush things.”

“Did you get your branding worked out?”

“I think so. The art department came in handy there.”

“What tagline did you end up going with?”

“Everyone loves a good root. Root is British slang for, uh, bedroom stuff but also works for plants. Fits with the sex-sells aspect.”

“Bedroom stuff.” Claribel laughs. “Love it. Now …” She hesitates, which immediately grabs my attention. “One of my bosses got wind of your project. They had me run through what your plans were, and they’re interested.”

“Oh.” I don’t know what she’s getting at, but it’s cool to have interest from people higher up. “Tell them thanks.”

“Tell them yourself. I assume you’re cataloging data for how this event goes. They want to read your findings when you’re done.”

I blink at my laptop screen for a few moments. “That’s … awesome. Thanks.” Any contacts I can get at this stage can only be helpful, if they don’t think I’m full of shit. Making plants fun has been done before, but those people didn’t have a Benny who’s happy to tell me exactly what people need.

While I think it’s mind-blowingly cool to read up about soil health and photosynthesis, apparently, those topics are out. I need to be light on the education and heavy on the cool facts. Finding that balance hasn’t been easy, but I’ve been putting all my time and effort into it.

Benny has been so patient as my sounding board.

A presence presses against my back, immediately chasing away the worry and bringing a smile to my face. I can’t get off the phone with Claribel fast enough.

“I’m wrapping up for the day, but I’ll let you know if there’s more progress this week.”

“Can’t wait. Talk soon.”

We hang up, and I turn to grab Benny in a bear hug.

“Should I be worried about late-night phone calls with strange women?” he asks, teeth tugging on my earlobe.

“Claribel does really like plants.”

He growls, and it does all these weird, happy things to me. “Which one was a good poison again?”

“You don’t need to worry about her. You don’t like plants and act interested anyway. It’s why I love you.”

I’m expecting snark back when Benny goes tense in my arms. “Stop. Repeat.”

“What do you mean?”

“That last damn thing you just fucking said to me.”

What … oh, fuck. “Ah …” I swallow. “Plants …”

“You love me?”

“Love? What? There, umm, must be some amnesia—hallucinogenic—pollen in the air. Very strong. I think I stroked out for a minute.”

Benny narrows his eyes. “Say it again.”

“Say what?”

“You know what.”

Well, fuck. Looks like he’s not letting me get out of this. I want to say it was a slip of the tongue, but I’ve gotten so used to thinking that about him lately that I look at him, and it’s all I see. I’ve wanted to tell him so many times, but we’re both so busy with everything that it’s never the right moment.

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