Page 64 of Breeding Her: The Red Flag Edition
I was about to answer when a few teachers stepped into the lounge. Instead of speaking, I shot Cathryn a look—do not say a word.
“Juliette?” the receptionist called out.
I stood with a polite smile, only to falter when I saw Joy approaching… with a massive bouquet of roses in her arms.
The chatter in the room shifted. Curious glances. Muted whispers. The kind that made my skin prickle.
“Are these from the sheriff?” Joy asked in a hushed tone, eyes bright. “I never knew he had it in him. Grace said he was tied up in knots over you.”
Of course she knew. Joy was absolutely part of Grammy’s network—greying hair, warm eyes, and a direct line to half the county.
“These must’ve cost a pretty penny,” she added, handing me the arrangement. “I left the carrier bag they came in on your desk. Grace will be pleased.”
I mumbled a thank-you, my eyes fixed on the bouquet.
Every single rose was a perfect bloom, surrounded by tiny white filler flowers. Thoughtful. Beautiful. Overwhelming.
The whispers around me grew louder, but—for once—I didn’t care.
A small white envelope peeked out from the top. My stomach flipped.
Cathryn appeared beside me, holding my mug of tea.
“Let’s take this into your classroom,” she said, not even pretending she wasn’t bursting with curiosity.
I nodded and followed, grateful to escape the heat of a dozen eyes.
Once inside, I plucked the envelope from the bouquet and unfolded the card inside.
You hold my heart.
I’m never letting you go.
See you tonight.
—Officer Kade
Cathryn leaned in and read over my shoulder.
“Not gonna lie, that’s equal parts hot and terrifying.”
I jumped.
“Are you sure you’re not related to Grammy?” I muttered, slipping the card back into the envelope and tucking it into my purse.
The flowers already brightened the room. They made everything feel lighter. I found myself smiling as I ran my fingers along the velvet-soft petals.
No one had ever sent me flowers before.
Not like this. Not for me.
It was something I’d only ever seen on TV. My mother used to have them delivered to herself twice a week, but… that didn’t count.
I touched the bouquet one last time. I’d thank him properly tonight.
For now, a text message would need to do.
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