Page 68 of The Floral Arrangement

“You were right that the movies were generally a crash course in what not to do when fake dating. But one thing did stand out to me.” Roz’s gaze was fixed on me.

I swallowed. “Oh?” I shoveled a forkful of egg in my mouth, hoping it might squash the flutters that seemed to be increasing by the second.

“We haven’t really practiced being affectionate with one another. If we had some agreed moves that we’d practiced, it might help avoid a repeat of the fiasco at George’s. A bit like what I was suggesting yesterday.”

My breath caught. I’d clearly underestimated Roz’s dedication to saving the farm. But what types of moves was she proposing?

A slide deck of potential moves flashed through my mind. Roz pushing me up against the wall of a barn, her tongue exploring my mouth. Roz taking me bent over her study desk. Me straddling Roz in her bed.

Get a grip.She’s talking about moves we could do in front of Fred. Not moves for a lesbian porn movie.

I swallowed and a chunk of egg got stuck in my throat. I tried swallowing again, but it felt as though my throat had constricted. My chest squeezed, my eyes watering.

“Are you okay?” Roz asked.

I raised my hands to my throat, panic flooding my body.I can’t breathe.

“Shit!” Roz sprang up, lurching for me. “Are you choking? Try coughing.”

I couldn’t.Shit. Shit. Shit.This was how it was going to end: dying on a mouthful of farm-fresh eggs. I scrambled to my feet, dizziness washing over me.

Roz jumped behind me, her warm arms enveloping me. She thrusted into my upper abdomen with force.

Egg sprayed out of my mouth, covering the deck. I gasped for air.

Roz guided me back to the chair. She crouched down, studying my face. “Can you breathe okay now?”

I nodded, my cheeks burning. “Sorry. I think the egg just went down the wrong way.”

“Here, have some water.” Roz handed me my glass.

I gulped it down. “Thank you for that,” I said once my heart rate and breathing began to slow back to their normal rhythm. “For both the water and saving my life.”

“Anytime.” Roz’s lips quirked up. “That’s what friends do for each other.”

My shoulders relaxed as I took a sip of my coffee, watching a swallow swoop down onto the fence of Thelma and Louise’s paddock. It appeared my near-death experience had distracted Roz from her previous topic of conversation.Thank god.

“Now that you’re breathing again, I was saying that if you’re okay with it, I think we should practice a few moves we could do in front of Fred, just in case he appears again.”

Shit.

“M-moves?” I swallowed again, thankful I only had saliva and no egg to contend with. So exactly what are you proposing?” I tried to keep my voice casual.

Roz pushed her now-empty plate away. “Some moves we can do sitting or standing, depending on the circumstances.”

An image of me sitting on Roz’s face sprang into my mind. A jolt of heat rushed over my body.Not that kind of sitting. Good god.

“Okay. Like what?” I looked at Roz for guidance. I didn’t trust myself to suggest anything right now.

Roz’s brow furrowed. “If Fred came up while we were sitting somewhere—like right now, for example—perhaps I could rub your leg affectionately? That’s a thing people do, right?”

“I think so.” I gulped down another mouthful of coffee.

“Do you mind if we practice doing it now?” Roz asked, leaning forward.

“Yeah, sure.” Hands shaky, I placed the mug on the table.It’s just a friendly leg rub. For practice. For keeping up appearances.

Roz’s palm skimmed my thigh, soft at first, then firmer. I breathed out. That was nice. Warm and comforting. Why had I been so worried?

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