Chapter 203
As soon as it’s out, I know I’ve either made a fatal misstep or we were never on the same page to begin with.
His jaw ticks. “That’s not why I stopped you.” He tips his chin towards a nearby bucket just across the way. “They’ve got roses over there.”
—
I follow his gaze
rich, red roses sitting smugly in their buckets, every inch the cliché. My lips part in a soft “oh.” When I glance back, his eyes are already narrowed on me.
“So what’s this about them not smelling all that good?” he
presses.
I make a show of wandering over to the carnations instead, like I’m deeply invested in the fate of baby’s breath. It really is too
embarrassing to say aloud, so I ignore him. “You’re right. They are very pretty to look at.”
But Liam’s footsteps fall in line with mine, stubborn as ever. “You don‘ t like flowers?”
“I never said that.”
“Didn’t you?” His disbelief is practically a challenge. “Go on then. Pick one.”
“One?” I spin on him, spluttering. “There are about two hundred.”
His smile tilts, wicked and lazy all at once. “And here I thought a woman who loved flowers wouldn’t be overwhelmed. Go on. Pick your favourite. Otherwise…” He leans in, close enough that I catch the warmth of his breath. “I’ll just buy them all.”
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I laugh, shaking my head. “You can’t buy an entire stall, Liam.”
“Can’t I?” His brow arches, cocky and beautiful, before he turns casually to the vendor. “Excuse me? How much for everything you’ve got?”
—
The teenage boy manning the stall – who’d been half–asleep until now -nearly drops his calculator, his face lighting up like Christmas morning.
–
“Wait —” I grab Liam’s arm, laughing despite myself. “You’re not actually serious.”
He looks down at me, utterly straight–faced. “Dead serious. If it takes every last daisy and tulip here to make you admit you want flowers, then so be it.”
My laugh gets caught somewhere between my throat and chest. “That’s ridiculous.”
“Maybe.” His smile softens, that dangerous mix of playful and sincere. “But then, so is pretending you don’t want something just because you‘ re scared someone might give it to you.”
For one dizzying second, I don’t have anything to say. I can’t be that much of an open book.
The vendor clears his throat loudly, shuffling awkwardly with a bouquet in his hands. Liam doesn’t even flinch. His gaze stays on me, warm and unrelenting, like he’s daring me to look away first.
I snatch the nearest carnation from the bucket just to break the moment. “Fine. This one. Happy?”
He leans in again, yoice low and smug. “Ecstatic.”
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And then, as if to prove his point, he takes the flower right out of my hand, pays for it, and tucks it behind my ear. “There. My favourite flower, on my favourite girl.”
The poor boy at the stall audibly sighs, muttering something about “romance being wasted on the wrong people.”
We end up on a bench at the edge of the market, bags piled at our fect, Liam unwrapping the croissant like he’s unveiling treasure. He tears off a piece, feeds it to me, then pops one into his own mouth, humming like he hasn’t known exactly how good it is since the moment he bought it.
—
The sun’s sliding lower, washing the stalls in honeyed light. Kids dart between legs, vendors keep shouting, the air still buzzing – but sitting here, it all blurs to background noise. It feels like it’s just him, me, and the lazy curl of his arm anchoring me to his side.
“You were right,” I admit, grudging but honest. “This was… nice.”
“Just nice?” His brows leap, mock–wounded.
I roll my eyes, lips twitching. “Fine. More than nice. Don’t let it go to your head.”
“Too late.” He drops a kiss on the crown of my head, his voice softer now, almost thoughtful. “I’ll bring you again. Next week. Week after. Every week if you want.”
My checks burn so ho I hide my face in his shoulder. “We’ll end up as vendors at this rate.”
–
“Not the worst idea.” He smirks. “Forget running around Europe – we‘ Il set up a little flower stall. I’ll charm customers, you’ll boss me
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around. Perfect.”
“You hate your job that much?”
“Not mine.” He kisses my cheek, feigning innocence. “Yours.” I give him a look, but he steamrolls past it, all sly grin. “So. You ready?”
“I still have to pack. Tell Tess I’m leaving. Say goodbye to my room and the rugs – and, yes, even her hideous coffee table. This is not an overnight operation.”
His mouth quirks. “I meant the barbeque.” He stands, tugging me up beside him. “But we can head to yours after, get a head start on all those emotional farewells. Since you’re so eager.“,
“1
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Chapter 204
