Page 14 of Forget-Me-Nots and Apricots

I said nothing, watching as he stalked past Collins and out the door. Only when the bell chimed behind him did I release the breath I'd been holding.

Collins remained by the door, his expression unreadable as he studied me. "Are you alright?"

"Fine," I said automatically, though my hands were trembling slightly. I clasped them together behind the counter where he couldn't see.

Collins stepped into the shop, letting the door close behind him. He moved with that quiet confidence that seemed to be his trademark, his gaze sweeping the shop before settling back on me.

"Officer Reeves shouldn't have been here," he said, his voice carrying an edge of steel beneath the calm exterior. "I apologize for the intrusion."

"Two apologies in one week," I remarked, trying to keep my voice light despite the lingering tension. "That must be some kind of record for the department."

“I am his Alpha and boss, I apologize for him even if he won’t do it himself.” Collins told me. I blinked at this new information, but stayed silent not really knowing what to say.

Jamie shifted beside me, his protective instincts clearly at war with his natural caution around powerful Alphas. "He was threatening her," he blurted out. "Your officer. Making veiled threats."

Collins's expression darkened. "What exactly did he say?"

I shot Jamie a look—half gratitude, half exasperation—before turning back to Collins. "Nothing specific. Just the usual Alpha posturing." I waved a dismissive hand, though my heart was still racing. "I'm used to it.”

The detective moved closer, his scent—clean, with notes of apricots and sandalwood and something distinctly Alpha—filling the space between us. Unlike Reeves's aggressive musk, Collins's scent was controlled, deliberate.

I had a sudden, irrational urge to step back, to put more distance between us, but I forced myself to stand my ground. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing me retreat.

"What exactly did Reeves say to you?" Collins asked, his voice low and intent.

I hesitated, weighing my options. On one hand, reporting Reeves's behavior might get him off my back. On the other, it could make things worse—Alphas didn't take kindly to being reported by Omegas, even when those Alphas were in the wrong.

"Just that I should mind my own business," I said finally, deciding on a partial truth. "That things happen to people who get involved in matters that don't concern them."

Something flickered in Collins's eyes—anger, perhaps, or concern. It was gone too quickly for me to be sure.

"I see.” Collins sighs, eyes seeing to take on a hard edge, “Again I am sorry for him. I will have a talk with him and make sure this doesn’t happen again.”

“Well, he isn't sorry so it is what it is….” I told him, shrugging it off. It wasn’t like Reeves didn’t act like any other Alpha I had been around. It was normal behavior for Alphas, "Now, was there something you needed, Detective? Or are you just here to collect your subordinate?"

Collins studied me for a moment longer before reaching into his jacket pocket. He pulled out a small evidence bag containing what looked like a piece of paper.

"I wanted to ask if you recognize this," he said, holding it up for me to see.

I leaned forward, squinting at the contents. It was a receipt—from Petal & Thorn. My shop. The date showed it was from three weeks ago, well before Braden Jensen had burst into my shop.

I frowned, taking the bag from his hands to examine it more closely. It was definitely one of ours—our logo stamped at the top, my handwriting on the itemized portion. A simple arrangement: white lilies, baby's breath, and a dozen red roses. Not our most creative work, but a classic combination.

"Yes, it's from my shop," I confirmed, handing it back to him. "But we process dozens of transactions a day. I don't remember this specific one."

Collins took the bag back, his fingers brushing against mine for the briefest moment. "It was found among Jensen's belongings. The purchase was made before he disappeared."

He paused, his blue eyes on me as he continued, "Along with several other receipts from your shop, dating back almost six months."

My stomach dropped. "Six months?" I handed the bag back to him, my mind racing. "That's impossible. I would have remembered a regular customer, especially an Alpha."

Collins tucked the evidence bag away. "Maybe he wasn't memorable. Or maybe he deliberately kept a low profile."

"Six months," I repeated, my mind racing. "That doesn't make sense."

Jamie moved closer, his brow furrowed. "I don't remember him either, and I'm here almost as much as you are."

"Maybe he used a different name," Collins suggested, watching me carefully. "Or sent someone else to make the purchases."

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