Page 2

Before she could stop it, a small, unexpected huff of a laugh escaped. Devon sucked in a breath, pressing a supportive hand against her side as a sharp pain knifed through her ribs.

Blake rushed to her side, his smile vanishing in an instant. “Whoa, easy there.”

“It’s fine,” she gritted out. “I-I’m fine.”

“Sure you are.”

Devon’s gaze narrowed, but Blake merely smiled and lifted the large vase.

“These are for you, by the way.”

She looked at the flowers and then back to him. “They’re huge.”

“I know.”

“Why so big?”

You don’t even know me.

He glanced down at the impressive arrangement with a smirk and a shrug. “Because I had absolutely no idea what kind of flowers you’re supposed to bring to someone who’s been through . . . something like this.”

All traces of humor left his face. Devon didn’t know what to say.

She swallowed, using humor as a defense. “So you bought every flower they had?”

“Pretty much.” Blake chuckled, his mouth twisting into a grin. “I told the florist I needed something big and cheerful.”

“I think she took that as a personal challenge,” she teased, ignoring the ache in her jaw. “They’re pretty.”

“Then it was worth it.” He moved a few feet away to carefully set the bouquet on the countertop near the small sink.

The blooms gave off a faint, sweet scent that cut through the room’s otherwise sterile air. Their vibrant rainbow of colors stood out beautifully against the stark white walls.

Blake adjusted the vase. Then he shifted it again. Devon fought a smile as she watched him messing with the long stems, as if he were trying to make them appear absolutely perfect.

Finally satisfied, he turned and pulled the only chair in the room closer to her bed. With his forearms resting on his thighs, Blake returned his attention to her.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

There was no forced smile or polite expression. Nothing that told her he expected the answer most people wanted to hear.

I’m fine.

Great.

Getting better every day.

Devon looked down at the blanket covering her legs.

“Sore.” She picked at a loose thread. “Achy.”

“Of course you are.” There was no sarcasm or pity in his tone.

Her gaze found his gaze once more.

So pretty.

They were what she remembered most from the day Janie had first introduced them.