Page 107 of DFF: Delicate Freakin' Flower

Jesse stood up slowly, wiping dirt off his knees with a grimace.

“How’s that forman code?” Ira asked, arching a brow.

No one had an answer for that because he was absolutely right.

“I’d say Ira here is weird,” Remy started, glancing at the old man with a bemused expression, “but I’ve been around the Townsend family too long to call anyone else the strangest person I’ve met.”

Jesse scoffed and scowled. “My family is perfectly normal.”

That earned him a synchronized deadpan stare from both Remy and me. We didn’t even have to say it—we just blinked at him in unified disbelief.

Ira looked between us, eyebrows raised. “What are you talking about?”

Remy ticked off the points on his fingers with practiced ease. “Where do I begin? An alarming number of kidnappings—like, a suspicious amount. One cousin got bitten on the ass by a rattlesnake in a car. Chickens named Bojangles and KFC, may they rest in peace. The name ‘Cole’ comes up constantly, somehow in the middle of disasters. A wild grandpa who’s either unhinged or a genius—possibly both. Waxing accidents. A cross-eyed cat in a motorcycle helmet who rides with Jackson. Pet pigs, turkeys, mini horses. Car chases. Secret weddings. Gender reveal parties that nearly caused brush fires. And that’s just the tip of the iceberg.”

Ira's eyebrows shot up into his hairline as he slowly processed the list. Then he turned to me with a straight face. “If I had any sense, I’d tell you to run—maybe, in your case, crawl for your life—because I’m starting to think this Clayton guy isn’t even the real threat.”

I shrugged and nodded solemnly. “Some of that I knew...but yeah. That tracks.”

Jesse waved a hand. “There’s no crawling to safety, anyway. This whole place is surrounded by Townsend-Rossis and their extended friend network. She’d run straight into another one of us within twenty feet.”

Ira turned serious, gaze flicking toward the dark tree line. “Then keep your heads on. As I said, I saw birds take off fast a few minutes ago. Something moved out there.”

Jesse sobered up and excused himself to go inside and make a quick call just as Remy stepped closer, concern pinching the corners of his mouth. “Gabby, you sure you’re okay out here? You want help getting inside, just in case?”

I waved him off with my trusty can of ant spray. “Nah, I’m good. But if you really want to be useful...,could you get me a proper weapon?”

His face pinched tighter like he was debating the risk of arming someone who’d recently threatened someone’s manhood via raccoon. Before he could respond, the bushes rustled violently, and Webb came tearing through them like a freight train, breath short and eyes sharp.

“Get ready,” he clipped, already scanning the area as he reached me. “Company incoming!”

Without missing a beat, he dropped a kiss on my cheek, scooped me up—ant spray, cast, and all—and carried me inside like I weighed nothing. Before I could even process it, he’d gently laid me on the couch, ripped off two cushions, dropped them in the corner of the room, and scooped me back up again.

“This is humiliating,” I muttered, clinging to his neck. “I’m not a duffel bag.”

“You’re the only thing I’d pack first,” he murmured, carefully placing me down on the makeshift floor bed. Tucking a cushion behind my head, Webb's fingers brushed the tender side where the worst of my injuries still pulsed. He traced a line over my temple as he looked me over.

“You stay here, no moving. Protect that head.”

I grabbed the front of his t-shirt before he could get up. “Weapon. Now!”

With a smirk, he jogged off and returned seconds later, placing my little gun—Tinkerbell—and a small can of pepper spray in my lap with reverence.

I stared at them for a second. “Thank you. Also...we need to talk about the bathroom.”

He laughed quietly. “I knew you’d make life an adventure, so I added to it. One day, we’ll laugh about how our relationship began with raccoons, traps, and you pooping in the woods when you didn’t have to.”

I glared, but he ignored it and leaned in, kissed my forehead gently, and smiled. “It’ll be a great story to tell. Trust me.”

I wanted to say something snarky, but then his hand cradled the back of my head like it was made of glass. “I love you, Gabby.” He kissed me and was gone before I could even blink.

I stared at the door, jaw slack, heart slamming against my ribs. He’d said it. Webb actually said he loved me. Out loud, like it was just fact. And the worst part was, I didn’t get to say it back. It wasn’t that I didn’t feel it—God, I did. The love I felt for him had already taken root, growing faster and deeper than I ever could have prepared for. But in that moment, I'd frozen.

Before I had a chance to snap out of it, the popping started outside—sharp, distant, and unmistakably gunfire. My heart surged, panic rising fast, but not for myself. It was for him. For Ira. For Jesse and Remy. For every reckless, brave, brilliant man out there who might get hurt trying to protect me.

My fingers trembled as I tightened my grip on Tinkerbell, the weight of it grounding me. Let Barris come. I was ready, and he had no idea what kind of hell he’d just walked into.

Chapter 33

---