“Good morning, beautiful.” Gideon’s smile broke across his face like the dawn did the horizon, almost enough to blind my still crusty feeling eyes. I was up and dressed, but just. The bouquet he thrust under my nose – bluebells and white carnations – smelled of victory, sweet and earthy. “A gift,” he said with a lavish, if not boyish, bow, “for our incredible hostess.”
The words – still sharp in my mind from constant replay – made me feel like a million bucks, so to speak. Or they did when I was more awake. But still, I wasn’t aware he’d been around to hear them. I hadn’t seen him that night save for when he arrived.
The idea pleased me more than it should have. Now he knew that I wasn’t completely useless as well as plebeian.
“You shouldn’t have,” I returned around a yawn that wouldn
