Page 70 of Forget-Me-Nots and Apricots

"That gets under your skin," I finished for him. "Yeah, I noticed."

We stood in silence for a minute before I turned to leave, “We will have to make a choice all together eventually…we can ignore the pull we are all feeling or we can do something about it.”

I then left Dakota to his thoughts, I knew that we had a choice to make…but we would do it as a pack…just as we always have done since we formed. I coudln’t wait to see what that choice was.

Chapter Thirty-One

Vivian’s POV

Ibentoverthetable,focusing intently on the bouquet I was arranging. The stems of the roses were stubborn, needing just the right trimming to allow the petals to fan out perfectly. My fingers worked with practiced precision as I shaped the arrangement, weaving in peonies and sprigs of lavender, each addition calculated to create the perfect balance of color and fragrance.

I had been here for hours now—at least, that’s what it felt like. Time didn’t matter when I was doing this.. The gentle snip of my shears as I trimmed the stems, the soft rustle of the ribbons as I tied the bouquets—these small acts kept my mind grounded. But it wasn’t until I stepped back to admire my work that I realized how long I had been at it. The sun had shifted noticeably since I started, and the peaceful hum of the greenhouse was interrupted by the soft creak of the door opening.

"Vivian," Dakota’s voice carried over, it was his normal gruff greeting. "You’ve been in here for three hours already."

I froze, mid-motion, turning slowly to find him standing in the doorway. His posture was relaxed, but there was a knowing glint in his eyes as he surveyed the work I had done. "And I didn’t see you eat breakfast... which means lunch is a must," he continued, his arms crossed and his tone firm.

I frowned, wiping the back of my hand across my forehead, which had started to dampen in the warmth of the greenhouse. "I’m fine," I replied, my voice a little sharper than I intended. "Just need to finish this. It’s almost done."

Dakota's eyes narrowed slightly as he studied me, his gaze lingering on the slight tremble in my hands that I hadn't even noticed until now. "Food first, then finish," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "You'll work better when you're not running on empty."

I opened my mouth to protest but was betrayed by my stomach, which chose that exact moment to rumble loudly. Dakota raised an eyebrow, the hint of a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.

"Fine," I conceded, carefully setting down my shears. "But I'm coming right back after. These arrangements won't finish themselves."

"No one said otherwise," Dakota replied, stepping aside to let me pass through the doorway.

As we walked back toward the house, I became aware of how stiff my shoulders had become, how my fingers ached from gripping the shears for hours without a break. The transition from the warm, humid greenhouse to the cooler air outside sent a slight shiver through me.

"You should have taken breaks," Dakota observed, his voice matter-of-fact rather than judgmental.

"I lose track of time when I'm working," I admitted, rolling my shoulders to ease the tension.

"I understand that…” He paused when he saw me strech my fingers again, trying to get the aching to go away.

“You should stretch more," he said matter-of-factly as we reached the back door. "Repetitive motions cause muscle fatigue. Theo has exercises for that."

"Of course he does," I replied with a small smile. "Let me guess—scientifically optimized for maximum efficiency?"

The corner of Dakota's mouth twitched upward, just slightly. "Something like that."

When we entered the kitchen, I was surprised to find Theo already there, bent over his laptop at the island. He glanced up as we entered, his eyes quickly scanning me in that analytical way of his.

"You're dehydrated," he observed immediately, rising to retrieve a glass from the cabinet. "And your posture indicates shoulder strain from prolonged stationary work."

I rolled my eyes, though I couldn't help but smile at his assessment. "Good to see you too, Theo."

"It's not a greeting, it's an observation," he replied, filling the glass with water and adding a slice of lemon before sliding it across the counter to me. "Drink. The citrus will help with absorption."

I accepted the glass gratefully, suddenly aware of just how thirsty I was. The cool water soothed my parched throat as I drank deeply.

"What's for lunch?" Dakota asked, moving to the refrigerator with purposeful strides.

Theo gestured to the island. "Sit. Eat."

I hadn't noticed the sandwich waiting there—turkey and avocado on whole grain, similar to what Dakota had made me yesterday—along with sliced fruit and what looked like homemade potato chips.

"Who made this?" I asked, sliding onto a stool.

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