Page 4 of The Floral Arrangement

Roz’s previously white shirt clung to her small breasts and flat stomach, stained a reddish brown. The outline of her bra was visible underneath.Oh god, I think it’s soaked her bra as well.

I blinked.

Stop staring at her chest, and do something, Olivia.

I grabbed the napkin Brenda had served with my drink. I reached out, almost patting Roz’s chest directly before I came to my senses and handed it to her instead.

Roz, who had frozen for a moment, took the napkin and began to dab herself.

“I’m so, so sorry,” I repeated.

She pursed her lips. “I’ll chalk that up to the head injury.”

“I usually have a spare t-shirt in the car, just in case I get dirty while I’m working. I’ll go grab it.”

“Dirty while you’re working?” Roz raised an eyebrow. Was there something slightly suggestive in the way “dirty” had rolled off her tongue? “But yes, if you have a spare t-shirt, that would be appreciated.” She stared down at her soaked torso.

“Okay, I’ll be back in a moment.” I slipped off the bar stool.

Roz placed the napkin on the bar. “I’ll head to the restroom to clean myself up.”

I jogged outside to my car parked on the dark street, breathing out a sigh of relief as I opened the trunk and spotted my t-shirt poking out of a bag in the corner. I pulled it out of the bag and gave it a sniff. Thankfully, all I could smell was the faint scent of laundry detergent.

I pushed open the door of the bar to find Roz’s seat still empty, so I headed for the restroom. There I found her standing in front of the mirror, shirtless, patting a half white, half brown-splattered bra with paper towels. I took in her toned, pale upper body and the curves of her breasts. My heart stuttered. Okay, surely that wasn’t the reaction of a straight woman.Heat rushed to my cheeks.

“Um, here’s the shirt,” I said, trying to avert my eyes while throwing her the top. It was a shocking throw, and it was only thanks to Roz’s quick reflexes that she caught it before it landed in the overflowing trashcan behind her. Roz shook out the t-shirt and inspected it, her eyebrows shooting up.

A twinge of defensiveness needled my chest. “Sorry. I don’t keep any formal shirts in my car.” Or anywhere else, for that matter.

“Are you serious?” Roz continued staring at the shirt.

I frowned. It wasn’t as fancy as her negroni-splattered shirt, but surely it was fine as a temporary solution.

Roz held the t-shirt out so I could see the front.

Oh.

Heat warmed my cheeks. “Oops, sorry. I forgot it said that.”

The wordsI wet my plantsover a pot of flowers seemed twice as big tonight. It was perfect for me to wear around Sapphire Springs as the local florist, but perhaps it wasn’t quite as funny when you’d just had a drink spilled on your chest and crotch, especially not when you were a bit fancy like Roz.

“I’d offer you my jumpsuit, but I think it would give you a wedgie,” I said, gesturing toward Roz’s extra few inches of height.

Roz pressed her lips together. “This will have to do.”

“Well, at least you’re not trying to pick anyone up tonight. And if you wanted, you could tell your mom a hot woman at the bar gave it to you. That might get her off your back for a while.” I slammed my mouth shut. I hadn’t thought through just how flirtatious that would sound.

“A hot woman?” Roz smirked.

“Well…” I dug my teeth into my lower lip.

We gazed at each other. Was it my imagination, or were her eyes smoldering?

Heat sparked low in my belly.

There was absolutely nothing platonic about that sensation.

Roz’s tongue slipped out, wetting her red, full lips. I watched, transfixed. It was only as my tongue slid back into my mouth, my lips now moist, that I realized I’d mirrored her movements.

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