Chapter Seven
Two days later, on Friday at four o’clock in the afternoon, Ashton left Omega Sector to go home.Three quarters of the way there, he spun his truck around, nearly causing an accident behind him.
He needed to go to a florist.To get flowers.
For the date of doom tonight.
He grimaced, waving his hand in apology as horns blasted all around him at his insane driving antics.
The last two days had been hell.He’d been relegated to desk duty at work to allow him time to heal.Fortunately the SWAT team hadn’t been sent out on any missions, but Ashton hated missing the training and physical exercise.He needed it.Needed some sort of outlet for the tension running through him.
Waking up with Summer cuddled against him on the couch on Wednesday had not been hell—the opposite in fact—despite the aches in his body.
All his good intentions had almost flown out the window right then, looking at her delicate form pressed up against his.It had only been Chloe waking up and starting her sweet jabbering in her crib that had stopped him.
A good thing, too.At the very least Summer needed to know he worked for Omega Sector before they became intimate.
Ifthey became intimate.
Ashton was hoping she would laugh it off, that he would be able to explain how he’d meant to tell her but couldn’t figure out how.How he really hadn’t minded helping fix anything—glad to use the skills he’d developed growing up on the farm.And that it gave him an excuse to see her.
He would’ve used just about any excuse to see her.
Hopefully just explaining that he worked for Omega Sector and that was how he knew Joe Matarazzo—her friend and landlord who had introduced them—would be enough.Ashton would mention SWAT if he had to.And maybe even the burning warehouse when Omega had been on the scene and gotten her out.
But he prayed she didn’t bring up any questions about her husband’s death.
He would just blow up that bridge—and probably himself—when he got to it.He pulled into the parking lot of the florist, resisting the urge to beat his head against the steering wheel.
Right now, flowers.Something to smooth the way.He laughed when he looked over and saw the actual name of the shop.
The Blooming Idiot.
He was definitely in the right place.
Maybe a huge beautiful bouquet would help ease the jagged path Ashton would be walking tonight.He wasn’t sure what type of flowers to buy.Hell, he didn’t know much about flowers at all besides the obvious.He sat for a minute trying to think of what Summer might like, then gave up.He’d have to ask the florist for help.
Since it was so big, he’d parked his truck a little farther away even though there were closer spots.Ashton glanced around as he walked.He felt like someone was watching him.
But there was no reason to think that—nobody he knew would think to find him here.Not to mention almost taking out a half dozen cars as he’d made his psychotic U-turn had definitely gotten rid of anyone tailing him.
Still, Ashton had been living with his gut feelings for long enough to know not to ignore them.He crouched to the ground with the appearance of tying his shoe.It gave him the opportunity to look around without seeming like he was studying anything.
Nothing.
Maybe he was just jumpy about tonight.About the conversation he’d be having with Summer.Maybe he just hadn’t gotten the exercise over the past few days his body was accustomed to.Too much energy.Too much frustration.Ashton stood and walked the rest of the way into the florist.
He was no less jumpy in here.
Petals of all shapes and sizes assailed him.How the hell was he supposed to pick something Summer would like?
The manager, an African-American man in his late forties whose name tag said Marcel, finally took pity on him after a few minutes.He walked over and slapped Ashton gently on the shoulder, his uninjured one thankfully.“Don’t worry, whatever it is you’ve done or you’re about to do, we’ve got the right flowers to cover it.”
Ashton tried to smile, but he was sure it didn’t come across correctly on his face.“I’m going out with a woman for the first time tonight.”
“So something simple.”Marcel tapped a finger against his lips.“Maybe a daisy or two.Less is usually more for a first date.”
Ashton gritted his teeth and nodded, sighing audibly.
