31. Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-One
Vivian’s POV
I bent over the table, focusing intently on the bouquet I was arranging. The stems of the roses were stubborn, needing just the right trimming to allow the petals to fan out perfectly. My fingers worked with practiced precision as I shaped the arrangement, weaving in peonies and sprigs of lavender, each addition calculated to create the perfect balance of color and fragrance.
I had been here for hours now—at least, that’s what it felt like. Time didn’t matter when I was doing this.. The gentle snip of my shears as I trimmed the stems, the soft rustle of the ribbons as I tied the bouquets—these small acts kept my mind grounded. But it wasn’t until I stepped back to admire my work that I realized how long I had been at it. The sun had shifted noticeably since I started, and the peaceful hum of the greenhouse was interrupted by the soft creak of the door opening.
"Vivian," Dakota’s voice carried over, it was his normal gruff greeting. "You’ve been in here for three hours already."
I froze, mid-motion, turning slowly to find him standing in the doorway. His posture was relaxed, but there was a knowing glint in his eyes as he surveyed the work I had done. "And I didn’t see you eat breakfast... which means lunch is a must," he continued, his arms crossed and his tone firm.
I frowned, wiping the back of my hand across my forehead, which had started to dampen in the warmth of the greenhouse. "I’m fine," I replied, my voice a little sharper than I intended. "Just need to finish this. It’s almost done."
Dakota's eyes narrowed slightly as he studied me, his gaze lingering on the slight tremble in my hands that I hadn't even noticed until now. "Food first, then finish," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "You'll work better when you're not running on empty."
I opened my mouth to protest but was betrayed by my stomach, which chose that exact moment to rumble loudly. Dakota raised an eyebrow, the hint of a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.
"Fine," I conceded, carefully setting down my shears. "But I'm coming right back after. These arrangements won't finish themselves."
"No one said otherwise," Dakota replied, stepping aside to let me pass through the doorway.
As we walked back toward the house, I became aware of how stiff my shoulders had become, how my fingers ached from gripping the shears for hours without a break. The transition from the warm, humid greenhouse to the cooler air outside sent a slight shiver through me.
"You should have taken breaks," Dakota observed, his voice matter-of-fact rather than judgmental.
"I lose track of time when I'm working," I admitted, rolling my shoulders to ease the tension.
"I understand that…” He paused when he saw me strech my fingers again, trying to get the aching to go away.
“You should stretch more," he said matter-of-factly as we reached the back door. "Repetitive motions cause muscle fatigue. Theo has exercises for that."
"Of course he does," I replied with a small smile. "Let me guess—scientifically optimized for maximum efficiency?"
The corner of Dakota's mouth twitched upward, just slightly. "Something like that."
When we entered the kitchen, I was surprised to find Theo already there, bent over his laptop at the island. He glanced up as we entered, his eyes quickly scanning me in that analytical way of his.
"You're dehydrated," he observed immediately, rising to retrieve a glass from the cabinet. "And your posture indicates shoulder strain from prolonged stationary work."
I rolled my eyes, though I couldn't help but smile at his assessment. "Good to see you too, Theo."
"It's not a greeting, it's an observation," he replied, filling the glass with water and adding a slice of lemon before sliding it across the counter to me. "Drink. The citrus will help with absorption."
I accepted the glass gratefully, suddenly aware of just how thirsty I was. The cool water soothed my parched throat as I drank deeply.
"What's for lunch?" Dakota asked, moving to the refrigerator with purposeful strides.
Theo gestured to the island. "Sit. Eat."
I hadn't noticed the sandwich waiting there—turkey and avocado on whole grain, similar to what Dakota had made me yesterday—along with sliced fruit and what looked like homemade potato chips.
"Who made this?" I asked, sliding onto a stool.
"Lucas," Dakota answered, moving to the refrigerator. "He said something about 'paying you back for the ribbon lessons.'"
The thought of Lucas preparing lunch for me brought an unexpected warmth to my cheeks. I took a bite of the sandwich to hide my reaction, surprised by how hungry I actually was.
"Where is he, anyway?" I asked between bites, realizing I hadn't seen Lucas since he'd helped with the flower delivery.
"Following up on a lead with Gabriel," Theo replied, closing his laptop and pushing it aside. "They should be back by evening."
My chewing slowed as I processed this information. "A lead on the case?" I tried to keep my voice casual, though my heart rate picked up slightly.
Dakota and Theo exchanged a brief glance—one of those silent communications that seemed to pass between all four Alphas.
"Yes," Theo confirmed after a moment. "But nothing for you to worry about right now…once we know more we will have a meeting to talk about it with you. Right now it is only a lead, with no concrete evidence.”
I nodded, understanding. They couldn’t give me information if they weren’t sure it was one hundred percent accurate. I took another bite of the sandwhich, as the room went silent.
Dakota move so he now leaned against the counter, arms crossed, watching me eat with an intensity that might have been uncomfortable if I hadn't started getting used to it. "How's the work coming along?"
I swallowed another bite of sandwich before answering. "Good. I've finished the bridal bouquet and three bridesmaids' arrangements. Still have the centerpieces and boutonnières to go."
"You work fast," Dakota observed, something like approval flickering in his dark eyes.
"When I'm in the zone," I agreed, reaching for a slice of apple. "Time just... disappears."
Theo looked up from his screen, adjusting his glasses.
"That's an interesting psychological state," Theo said, his expression thoughtful. "What researchers call 'flow'—when you're so deeply engaged in an activity that your consciousness of external factors diminishes. It's actually quite beneficial for stress reduction."
I nodded, taking another bite of sandwich. "It's why I love what I do. Everything else just... fades away."
"Even the memory of someone trying to kill you?" Dakota asked bluntly.
Theo shot him a sharp look, but I appreciated Dakota's directness. There was something refreshing about his refusal to tiptoe around difficult subjects.
"Especially that," I admitted quietly, setting down my sandwich. "For a few hours, I wasn't a witness or a victim or whatever I am in this case. I was just a florist again."
The kitchen fell silent for a moment, save for the gentle hum of the refrigerater echoing through the room. As I finished my lunch, I found myself studying the two Alphas—so different and yet clearly bonded by something deeper than their work. Theo with his analytical mind and precise movements, Dakota with his gruff exterior and watchful eyes. There was something quietly comforting about their presence, even in silence.
"Thank you for the lunch," I said finally, pushing my empty plate away. "And for coming to get me. I probably would have worked straight through the day otherwise."
Dakota gave a short nod. "You needed fuel. Can't work efficiently without it…and make sure to say that to Lucas since he made it."
"Always practical," I observed with a small smile, “And I will when I see him next.”
"Function over sentiment," Dakota agreed, though there was a warmth in his eyes that belied his matter-of-fact tone.
Theo closed his laptop completely, his full attention now on me. "You'll need to rest your hands before returning to work. Repetitive strain injuries are common among florists."
I flexed my fingers, noticing the stiffness in my joints. "You're probably right. Maybe a short break before I tackle the centerpieces."
"I could show you some exercises," Theo offered, adjusting his glasses with precise fingers. "They're designed to alleviate tension in the metacarpals and increase circulation to prevent cramping."
I couldn't help but smile at his clinical description. "You make it sound so romantic, Theo."
A faint blush colored his cheeks, barely noticeable if I hadn't been watching for it. "It's physiological maintenance, not romance."
"Don't mind him," Dakota said, the corner of his mouth twitching. "He thinks foreplay is explaining the chemical composition of pheromones."
Theo's blush deepened as he shot Dakota a withering look. "That's both inappropriate and inaccurate."
I laughed, surprising myself with how genuine it felt. "I'd actually love to learn those exercises. My hands do get stiff after long sessions."
Theo seemed to recover his composure quickly, nodding as he stood from his stool. "The hand and wrist contain twenty-seven bones and numerous ligaments. Proper maintenance is essential for continued function."
He moved around the island to stand beside me, extending his hands palm-up. "May I?"
I hesitated only briefly before placing my hands in his. His touch was clinical yet somehow intimate—firm enough to manipulate my joints but gentle enough not to cause discomfort. Theo turned my hands over, examining the slight redness across my palm where I'd been gripping the shears.
"You hold your tools too tightly," he observed, his thumbs pressing into the center of my palms with precise pressure. "It restricts blood flow and causes unnecessary tension."
I inhaled sharply as he found a particularly tender spot, a small knot of muscle I hadn't even realized was there. "Sorry," he murmured, easing the pressure slightly.
"It's okay," I managed, watching his face as he concentrated on my hands. His brow furrowed slightly, eyes focused intently behind his glasses. "It's the good kind of pain."
Dakota made a sound that might have been a suppressed laugh from where he leaned against the counter, but I kept my eyes on Theo, suddenly fascinated by the focused intensity in his expression.
"First exercise," Theo instructed, guiding my fingers into a gentle fist. "Curl your fingers inward, hold for five seconds, then release and spread them wide. Repeat five times."
I followed his directions, surprised by how such a simple movement could bring immediate relief. Theo nodded approvingly as he watched my hands.
"Good. Now, rotate your wrists in circles, five clockwise, five counterclockwise." His own hands hovered near mine, not quite touching but ready to guide if needed. "The goal is to increase synovial fluid circulation within the joint capsule."
"In English?" I asked, a small smile playing at my lips as I rotated my wrists.
"It makes your joints less creaky," Dakota translated from his position by the counter, his voice tinged with unexpected humor.
I laughed softly, continuing the exercises under Theo's watchful guidance. "Thank you for the translation."
"Accurate terminology is important," Theo insisted, though there was no real irritation in his tone. "Next, press your palms together at chest height, like you're praying. Then lower them while keeping the contact, until you feel a stretch in your wrists and forearms."
I followed his instructions, feeling the pleasant pull of tight muscles beginning to release. "That feels amazing," I sighed, closing my eyes briefly to focus on the sensation as a low moan left my lips.
"The median nerve often becomes compressed during repetitive activities," Theo explained, his voice taking on that professor-like quality I was beginning to find endearing. "This stretches the carpal tunnel and relieves pressure."
When I opened my eyes, I found both Alphas watching me—both with with an intensity I wasn't quite prepared for. Dakota's dark eyes had narrowed, a predatory focus that made my breath catch, while Theo's analytical gaze had shifted to something more primal beneath his composed exterior. The air in the kitchen suddenly felt charged, heavy with unspoken tension.
I cleared my throat, lowering my hands and breaking the moment. "These are really helpful. I'll make sure to do them regularly."
Theo blinked, seeming to collect himself as he stepped back, creating a respectable distance between us. "Yes. Ideally after every other hour of work. Preventative maintenance is more effective than reactive treatment.”
Dakota pushed himself away from the counter, his movements deliberate and controlled. "You should get back to your flowers if you're planning to finishing everything on time like you want." His voice was rougher than usual, a gravelly quality that sent an unexpected shiver down my spine.
"Right," I agreed, standing from the stool. "Thank you for lunch and for the hand exercises. Both were exactly what I needed."
I stretched my arms above my head, feeling the pleasant pull in my shoulders. "I should be able to finish most of the centerpieces by dinner if I get back to it now."
"I'll walk you," Dakota said, pushing away from the counter. It wasn't a question or even an offer—just a simple statement of fact.
"I can find my way back to the greenhouse," I pointed out, though without any real annoyance. His protectiveness was becoming familiar, almost comforting in its consistency.
"I know you can," he replied, already moving toward the door. "But I'm heading that way anyway."
Theo glanced between us, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his features. "I'll continue analyzing the data from the lab," he said, returning to his laptop. "I'll have a preliminary report ready by the time Gabriel and Lucas return."
I nodded, oddly touched by his methodical approach to everything. "Thank you again, Theo. For the exercises."
He gave a short nod, the faintest hint of warmth in his eyes before he returned his attention to his screen.
Dakota and I walked in comfortable silence through the house and back toward the greenhouse. The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the garden path, the air noticeably warmer than it had been that morning. I rolled my shoulders, still feeling the lingering benefit of Theo's hand exercises.
"You should take breaks," Dakota said suddenly, breaking the silence. "Every hour or so. Just a few minutes to stretch."
I glanced at him, surprised by the concern in his gruff tone. "You sound like Theo now."
"He's usually right about these things," Dakota admitted, his expression softening slightly. "Just because he explains it with unnecessary scientific terminology doesn't mean the advice isn't sound."
I smiled, appreciating this glimpse of camaraderie between the Alphas. "I'll try to remember that. Set an alarm or something."
We reached the greenhouse, and Dakota pushed the door open, holding it for me as I stepped inside. The warm, fragrant air embraced me immediately, the scent of roses and fresh greenery welcoming me back. I moved to the workbench where my half-finished centerpieces waited, already feeling that familiar focus returning.
"I'll be close," Dakota said, lingering by the door. "If you need anything."
I turned, catching his eye. "Thank you, Dakota. For lunch, for the reminder to take breaks... for all of it."
Something flickered in his dark eyes—something that looked almost like vulnerability before his usual guard slammed back into place. He gave a short nod and stepped back.
"One hour," he reminded me, tapping his watch. "Then take another break."
I smiled, turning back to my flowers. "Yes, sir ," I replied, unable to keep the teasing note from my voice. I heard his soft growl, making my eyes snap to his face. For a moment, his eyes flashed with something primal—a reminder that beneath his controlled exterior was still an Alpha with instincts as old as time. The sound sent an unexpected shiver down my spine, but I held his gaze steadily, refusing to back down.
A half-smile tugged at one corner of his mouth, softening his usually stern expression. "Careful, little Omega," he murmured, his voice deepening to a rumble that sent an unexpected shiver down my spine. "I might take that seriously."
Before I could formulate a response, he was gone, the greenhouse door closing behind him with a soft click. I stood there for a moment, my heart beating a little faster than it should have been. What was happening to me? These Alphas—all four of them—were getting under my skin in ways I hadn't anticipated. Ways I wasn't sure I was ready for.
I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts. Focus on the flowers. That's what matters right now.
I turned back to my work, picking up my shears and selecting a rose from the bucket. The familiar motions centered me, bringing my mind away from what just occurred.
I didn’t want to think about it yet. Now wasn’t the time.