handed her some bundled up material. Opening them, she saw a pair of lightweight purple gloves.
“To keep your hands warm,” he said gruffly before he left.
As she locked the door behind him, a small smile crossed her lips.
* * *
He felt like an ass.
Because you were an ass.
He climbed into his truck, then sat there. He should have stayed. Should have looked after her.
She’s going to think you only want to be with her for the sex.
Which had been true when he’d first met her . . . but now . . .
This was ridiculous. How long had he known her? Not even three weeks. And he wanted more than just sex?
He tapped his fingers against the steering wheel. Did he really want more? Did he have the right to draw someone as innocent and sweet as Maeve into his life?
Likely not.
But he was just selfish enough to consider it.
16
The knock on her door the next day had her looking up from her work.
She was making the most adorable doggy hat and matching doggy shoes for Mr. Hemsworth, who was one of her best clients. That was the name of the dog, not his owner.
She set the outfit aside, then opened the door slightly. She didn’t have a peephole. She frowned when she couldn’t see anyone standing there. Then she glanced down to where a bunch of violets sat.
Oh, crap.
Were these for someone else too?
She picked up the flowers. Only this time, there was a note.
Walking back into the room, she opened it up.
Roses are red.
Violets are blue.
There is no one as pretty as you.
A strange feelingfilled her at the words. What did that mean? Was this supposed to be romantic?
Did she have a secret admirer?
The violets dropped to her feet. She stared down at them. First the roses, then the violets. That had to mean those roses were for her, right?
Was someone watching her? Why would someone watch her? She wasn’t interesting. Moving to the door, she locked it with shaking hands. She had to hide.
What if he was coming?
No. No.