Page 10 of Shift of Morals
He stepped closer, heat radiating from his body. A finger reached out and brushed my hair from my face. “No, Evie. If you’d left me to die in that forest, someone else would have taken my place, and it wouldn’t have been your pretty flower-loving Rowan or gentle Ben.”
“Hmm.” I turned my body into his. “But would he be better than you?”
Caelan’s hand dropped like I burned him. Our eyes locked, his blazing with fury. “In only a few weeks, I’d managed to forget how vicious your tongue is.”
“And I’d forgotten how calm my life is without you in it.”
Caelan snorted and took a step back, his heat retreating with him. I mourned it for a second before steeling myself against his presence. Being vicious-tongued was one of my few defenses against him.
“For what it’s worth, I didn’t want to hire you,” he said.
I blinked. “Then why did you?”
He inhaled a heavy breath. “Simone made me.”
“Simone? Why in the world would she do that?”
“For some reason I’ve yet to fathom, she likes you.”
“Or it could be that I’m the best florist in the state,” I snapped.
Caelan grinned. “Regardless, you and I are stuck together.”
I lifted a shoulder. “I have a kill clause in the contract. All you have to do is say the word. You’ll forfeit your deposit, but I’m sure that’s a drop of water in a rainstorm for you.”
“Itwouldbe easier if I canceled,” Caelan mused.
For both of us. I could go back to my normal life and pretend I’d never met him, and he could continue being our fearless leader with a brand-new bride by his side. That would be for the best.
“Have Simone send a request in writing to the shop email. As soon as I receive it, I’ll stop the supply order from being filled.” I paused and forced the rest of the words out. “Best of luck on your upcoming nuptials.”
Caelan’s low chuckle walked down my spine. “I said if.”
I started placing petunias around the inner edges of the pot. “You just said you didn’t want to hire me. Simone isn’t the Shifter Lord. You are.” I patted the soil down on the first. “So fire me already. It’s best for everyone.”
“Evie.”
I dug another small hole in the pot and placed another petunia, leaving the middle open for another plant, maybe a grass. I needed something taller in that spot and in the small area left around whatever I put. Planting gorgeous pots had three simple rules: thriller, filler, and spiller.
You need something to draw the eye, something tall and showy in the middle. I tucked a pretty ornamental grass inthe spot. The next layer needed to be a filler. I looked around and spotted some salvia that would stay on the shorter side. Grabbing those, I dug small holes and planted them around the thriller.
“Evie,” Caelan said again.
“I don’t think there’s anything left to say. If you don’t want to fire me, I’ll be at the scheduled meeting.”
His heavy sigh made me still. “Does it have to be like this?”
I slammed the empty grass pot down. “You are not a normal man, Caelan! You’re a Lord, and I am a florist. A Floromancer. We could never have a normal friendship.” An annoyed growl rumbled from my throat. Around me, plants grew several inches. Caelan’s eyes flicked around the greenhouse, cataloguing threats. “But I’m not sure if that’s what you’re even asking, and if it’s the other thing, that’s even worse!”
Caelan rubbed a hand over his chin. “We can have a friendship. If you want.”
I laughed and pulled the next pot over, repeating the process, but switching out the grass for a small palm. “For the love of the gods, just fire me. Make it easy on yourself and me for once.”
A hand on my waist and a gentle shove, and my back was to the work table, Caelan pressed against me, his hard chest against mine, and one of his thighs between my legs. My heart raced as he placed both hands opposite my body and leaned in.
He pressed his nose in the vulnerable spot between my neck and shoulder and inhaled. I froze even as my insides turned to liquid heat. When his tongue flicked out and laved the same spot, a soft moan escaped me. Caelan’s grip tightened, his massive hand curving over my hip.
“I don’t want to be friends with you, flower girl,” he murmured against my neck.
