Page 87 of Forget-Me-Nots and Apricots

"Everyone's busy," I observed, accepting the plate he slid in front of me with a murmured thanks. "Except me."

Dakota leaned against the counter across from me, arms crossed over his broad chest. "You have the Sullivan wedding flowers to finish. That's not nothing."

I took a bite of the omelet, surprised by how good it was—fluffy, perfectly seasoned, with just the right balance of vegetables. "This is delicious," I said, momentarily distracted from our conversation.

A flicker of satisfaction crossed Dakota's face before he nodded. "Fuel for the day."

"Still," I continued, returning to our previous topic, "I feel like I should be doing more. Helping with the case somehow. It is my life on the line, after all."

Dakota's expression turned serious, his dark eyes studying me. "The best thing you can do is stay safe.”

"And let us handle the investigation." His voice softened slightly. "You've been through enough already."

I pushed the eggs around on my plate, frustrated. "I know. But sitting here while everyone else works to keep me safe makes me feel..." I searched for the right word. "Useless."

Dakota's jaw tightened. "You're not useless. Far from it." He moved around the island to stand closer to me, his presence solid and reassuring. "The flowers you're creating bring joy to people. That matters."

I looked up at him, surprised by the unexpected sentiment. "I didn't expect you to see it that way."

He shrugged, though his eyes remained intent on mine. "Beauty has purpose. So does your work." The simple statement warmed something in my chest.

I felt a sudden tightness in my chest at his words. "Thank you," I said quietly, setting down my fork. "That... means a lot."

Dakota nodded once, a silent acknowledgment, before moving back to his side of the counter. He watched me eat for a moment, his dark eyes unreadable, before speaking again.

"About last night," he said, his voice dropping lower. "What we discussed. I want you to know there's no pressure. If you change your mind—"

"I haven't," I interrupted, surprising myself with my certainty. "Changed my mind, I mean."

Dakota's eyes darkened slightly, his scent shifting to something warmer, more intense. "Good," he said simply, though the single word carried layers of meaning.

We stood there, watching each other for a moment longer than necessary, the air between us charged with something unspoken. I took another bite of my omelet to give myself something to do besides stare at him.

Dakota cleared his throat. "I should let you finish eating. I need to check in with Theo about those leads."

"Of course," I nodded, leaning on the counter so I could finish my food and trying to sound casual despite the lingering tension. "And I should get started on those bouquets for the Sullivan wedding."

Dakota hesitated, like he wanted to say something more, then simply nodded. "I'll be in Theo's office if you need anything." He turned to leave, then paused at the doorway. "Vivian?"

I looked up, fork halfway to my mouth. "Yes?"

“Remember to take breaks.”

I couldn't help but smile at his concern. "Yes, sir."

His eyes flashed at that, just like they had yesterday in the greenhouse. For a moment, I thought he might come back, say something more, but instead he just gave me one last lingering look before disappearing down the hallway.

I finished my breakfast, washing the plate and mug before heading to the greenhouse. The morning sun streamed through the glass panels, casting golden light across the workbenches. The completed centerpieces from yesterday stood in neat rows, waiting to be delivered, and the remaining flowers sat in buckets of water, ready to be transformed into bouquets.

I let myself work my mind almost going blank until I had finished three bougets.

I stretched my fingers, wincing at the stiffness settling in. I'd been so absorbed in the work that I hadn't noticed how much time had passed. My phone buzzed in my pocket, reminding me of the text I'd sent Jamie earlier. I should call him now, as I let my fingers rest.

I settled onto the small bench near the window, sunlight warming my shoulders as I dialed his number. He picked up on the second ring.

"It lives!" Jamie's voice came through, simultaneously relieved and accusatory. "Do you have any idea how worried I've been?”

"I'm sorry," I said, guilt washing over me. "Things have been...stressful."

---