Page 30 of Only You and Me

When I’m only about six feet past her, she calls out. “So, you’re really gonna walk by and not talk to me?”

I stop in my tracks and slowly turn around to face her. “You want to talk? Sure didn’t seem like it at the party. It’s okay now because no one is around, right?” She glares at me, but I’m frustrated, and I can’t stop myself from continuing on. “So, let’s talk. How about we talk about, oh, I don’t know—flowers?”

Her eyes narrow and her lips pinch together. “How about we not and you stop?”

Trina opens her mouth to say something else but quickly closes it, whether it’s because Emily and Fitz are now approaching or something else.

“Whatever.” I turn and walk away. Annoyance gnaws at my gut and my brain as I reach my vehicle and climb in. I rest my head back against the headrest and sigh. Trina Flynn can press my buttons like no one else.

And boy, does she.

CHAPTER9

TRINA

“Nice flowers,” Jack says when he walks into our shared office at the Fire Station and notices the bouquet of red roses I’ve placed off to the side on a filing cabinet. All I can manage in reply is a grunt, afraid if I try to speak words, they’ll come out harsh.

It’s not his fault his twin is a jackass who can’t listen, so I don’t want to take my anger out on him.

It was a quiet twenty-four hours for my shift, so reporting to Jack only takes about five minutes. When we’re done, I say goodbye to him, grab the flowers, and head to my car.

I start the car and pull out my phone and text Ben.

Me: Are you still home?

Ben: Yes. Why?

Me: Don’t leave. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.

Ben: Could you be a little less… bossy?

Me: Piss off. Don’t leave.

Ben: Wow, I can’t wait until you get here (note sarcasm).

When I pull out of the station parking lot, it only takes me five minutes to get to my house and run in to grab the cards from the prior bouquets. From there, I spend the additional ten-minute drive to Ben’s place, feeding my anger.

It’s bad enough that I’ve spent way too much of my time over the last two weeks thinking about how good he was with the kids at Annie and Jack’s party, which inevitably leads my mind down the path of thinking what a great dad he’ll probably make someday. That pisses me off because I want the family, the kids, two dogs… the whole thing. I’m probably not going to get it at this point and Ben will end up marrying some woman and have gorgeous babies with them and be a damn good father. Just the thought of that grates on my nerves.

To further add to my bad mood, yesterday was thirty days since the incident in Las Vegas and the online portal now shows that Ben and I applied for and receive a marriage license on that day in March. However, it still shows as “pending” status under “date filed.” So, it’s looking more and more likely that we got married, but I potentially have to wait another month to find out for sure.

To say I’m feeling a bit out of control is an understatement.

Especially since I made it clear Ben needed to stop sending me flowers and, yet again, I received these roses at work yesterday. That makes four weeks in a row, and I’ve had it. This is one thing I can control and if Ben thinks he’s going to disregard my wishes, he’s got another thing coming.

When I pull into Ben’s driveway, I grab the roses off the passenger side floor and climb out of the car, slamming my door behind me. I practically stomp to his door, and I pound the side of my fist into the solid piece of wood, ignoring the perfectly good doorbell.

Ben opens the door, and I don’t give him a chance to say anything before I shove the vase with the flowers into his chest.

“Enough! I told you to stop, and I meant it.” I practically spit the words at him and his eyes widen in surprise.

“What—”

I don’t let him get past that first word before I pull the cards from my pocket and throw them onto the concrete porch. “Stop sending me flowers! Especially at work.”

I whip around so quickly that I almost lose my balance in my race to get back to my vehicle.

“Trina, wait!”

---