Page 67 of Forget-Me-Nots and Apricots

I raised an eyebrow. "You're joking."

"Only slightly," Lucas admitted, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Theo approaches everything methodically. But beneath all that analysis is someone who cares deeply. He just expresses it through spreadsheets and perfectly organized supply closets."

"Like the greenhouse," I observed, remembering how meticulously everything had been arranged. "Gabriel mentioned Theo made a diagram."

"Three diagrams," Lucas corrected with a laugh. "One for optimal workflow, one for light distribution, and one for..." he paused, squinting as if trying to recall, "something about ergonomic considerations. I stopped listening after the second flowchart."

I smiled, imagining Theo hunched over his tablet, creating detailed plans while the others tried not to look too confused. "It's sweet, though. In his own way."

"That's Theo," Lucas agreed, his voice warming. "Shows he cares by making sure everything in your life runs with maximum efficiency." He finished another bow, this one nearly perfect, and held it up proudly. "How's this one?"

"Impressive," I admitted, genuinely surprised by his progress. "You really are a fast learner."

"I've been told I'm good with my hands," Lucas replied with a wink, before immediately looking contrite. "Sorry. Force of habit. Too much?"

I rolled my eyes, though I couldn't quite hide my smile. "I'll survive the innuendo. Just keep making bows."

We fell into a comfortable rhythm, the quiet snip of scissors and rustle of ribbon filling the greenhouse. Lucas worked with surprising focus, his playful demeanor giving way to genuine concentration. I found myself stealing glances at him—the way his brow furrowed slightly when he was trying to get a loop just right, the satisfied quirk of his lips when he succeeded.

"Can I ask you something?" Lucas said after a while, his voice softer than before.

I looked up, meeting his gaze. "Depends on the question."

"Fair enough," he acknowledged with I'll continue directly from where the passage ended.

a small nod. "It's about your shop. Before... everything happened. Did you run it alone?"

The question wasn't what I expected. I continued measuring ribbon, buying myself a moment to consider my answer. "Mostly. I had part-time help during wedding season—college students, usually. But day-to-day, it was just me and Jamie has started to get full time hours now.”

"Jamie's my assistant," I explained, smoothing a ribbon between my fingers. "Started part-time a year ago, then moved to almost full-time this spring. He's good with customers, better with arrangements. Has an eye for color that's honestly intimidating sometimes."

"You miss him," Lucas observed, his voice gentle.

I nodded, surprised by the sudden tightness in my throat. "I do I haven’t given him all the details of what is going on, not wanting to drag him into this. I know I probably should call and talk to him….” I trailed off at the end, before I sighed.

Lucas nodded, “I get what you mean. In this line of work, it is hard to know what you can and can’t say. Though, just talking to someone about random things like, what you had for breakfast…or even what book you read is sometimes enough to have a connection.”

"Yeah," I said, trying to picture Jamie's reaction to all this—me staying with four Alpha cops, making wedding arrangements in a Victorian greenhouse while someone who tried to kill me was still out there. It sounded absurd, even to me. "I should call him. At least let him know how I am doing. I know I only gave him the bare minimum details.”

"You should," Lucas agreed, setting aside another completed bow. "People worry when someone they care about disappears."

There was something in his tone that made me look up—a hint of old pain, quickly masked with his usual easygoing smile.

"Speaking from experience again?" I asked carefully.

Lucas's hands stilled for a moment before resuming their work. "My younger sister," he said after a pause. "She went through a rough patch a few years back. Disappeared for three weeks without a word. No calls, no texts." He gave a small shrug that didn't quite hide the remembered pain. "Those were the longest three weeks of my life. Kept picturing the worst."

"That must have been terrible," I said softly, recognizing the shadow that crossed his face. "Is she... okay now?"

Lucas nodded, his smile returning, though slightly subdued. "Yeah. She got help, moved back home for a while. She's good now—teaching elementary school in Chicago, has a fiancée, calls every Sunday without fail." His expression softened with genuine affection. "But I still remember that feeling. Not knowing."

I set down my scissors, suddenly understanding his concern about Jamie. "I'll call him today," I promised. "After the flowers arrive."

"Good," Lucas said, his smile warming. "And hey, if you want, we could have him come by. Check out your temporary workshop. Gabriel would have to approve it first, of course, but—"

"I don't know if that's a good idea," I cut in, my hands reflexively tightening around the ribbon I was holding. "I wouldn't want to put him at risk. Whoever's after me..." I trailed off, the weight of the situation suddenly pressing down on me again.

Lucas nodded, understanding immediately. "You're right. Safety first." He set down a completed bow, his expression thoughtful. "But a call would be good. Just to let him know you're okay."

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