Page 73 of Forget-Me-Nots and Apricots

"You should take breaks," Dakota said suddenly, breaking the silence. "Every hour or so. Just a few minutes to stretch."

I glanced at him, surprised by the concern in his gruff tone. "You sound like Theo now."

"He's usually right about these things," Dakota admitted, his expression softening slightly. "Just because he explains it with unnecessary scientific terminology doesn't mean the advice isn't sound."

I smiled, appreciating this glimpse of camaraderie between the Alphas. "I'll try to remember that. Set an alarm or something."

We reached the greenhouse, and Dakota pushed the door open, holding it for me as I stepped inside. The warm, fragrant air embraced me immediately, the scent of roses and fresh greenery welcoming me back. I moved to the workbench where my half-finished centerpieces waited, already feeling that familiar focus returning.

"I'll be close," Dakota said, lingering by the door. "If you need anything."

I turned, catching his eye. "Thank you, Dakota. For lunch, for the reminder to take breaks... for all of it."

Something flickered in his dark eyes—something that looked almost like vulnerability before his usual guard slammed back into place. He gave a short nod and stepped back.

"One hour," he reminded me, tapping his watch. "Then take another break."

I smiled, turning back to my flowers."Yes, sir," I replied, unable to keep the teasing note from my voice. I heard his soft growl, making my eyes snap to his face. For a moment, his eyes flashed with something primal—a reminder that beneath his controlled exterior was still an Alpha with instincts as old as time. The sound sent an unexpected shiver down my spine, but I held his gaze steadily, refusing to back down.

A half-smile tugged at one corner of his mouth, softening his usually stern expression. "Careful, little Omega," he murmured, his voice deepening to a rumble that sent an unexpected shiver down my spine. "I might take that seriously."

Before I could formulate a response, he was gone, the greenhouse door closing behind him with a soft click. I stood there for a moment, my heart beating a little faster than it should have been. What was happening to me? These Alphas—all four of them—were getting under my skin in ways I hadn't anticipated. Ways I wasn't sure I was ready for.

I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts. Focus on the flowers. That's what matters right now.

I turned back to my work, picking up my shears and selecting a rose from the bucket. The familiar motions centered me, bringing my mind away from what just occurred.

I didn’t want to think about it yet. Now wasn’t the time.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Twohourshadpassedin the greenhouse and I hadn't moved from the workbench. My back ached from hunching over the ribbons, my fingers were sore from tying bows, but I kept going. The quiet rustle of leaves and soft hum of the fan were the only companions to my thoughts—and those were better than letting my mind wander anywhere else.

I reached for another spool of cream satin when I heard the door creak open.

“Vivian.”

The sound of his voice—deep, a little rough around the edges—cut through the stillness. I didn’t need to look up to know it was Dakota.

I paused, ribbon in hand. “Back for round two already? I thought you would be keeping busy with the case…not bothering me.”

I sensed rather than saw him move closer, his footsteps nearly silent on the concrete floor. When I finally looked up, he was leaning against the workbench, arms crossed over his broad chest, studying me with those intense dark eyes.

"Not a bother," he said simply. "You missed your break."

I glanced at my watch and winced. He was right—I'd blown past the one-hour mark by nearly double that time.

"I was in the zone," I admitted, setting down the ribbon with reluctance. "These centerpieces aren't going to finish themselves."

Dakota's eyes swept over the completed arrangements—elegant compositions of burgundy roses, blush peonies, and delicate sprigs of greenery, all nestled in vintage brass containers. His expression softened almost imperceptibly.

"They're beautiful," he said, then his eyes flashed to mine, “But that doesn’t mean you can skip breaks.”

I sighed, reluctantly setting my shears down and flexing my cramped fingers. "I lose track of time."

"I noticed," Dakota replied dryly, but there was no real irritation in his tone. He moved closer, his gaze critical as he studied my posture. "Your shoulders are tight. You're going to hurt tomorrow if you don't stretch now."

"I'm fine," I insisted, though the dull ache between my shoulder blades suggested otherwise.

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