Lila
I paused at the threshold of the greenhouse, breath catching. This place was spectacular with stars caught in glass panes overhead. It felt like a delicious secret.
Damon stood a few steps inside, waiting; his dark shirt rolled at the sleeves, collar slightly open, the kind of rugged perfection that made my stomach twist.
“Come in,” he said, voice lower than usual. “You’re right on time.”
I stepped forward, drawn in by the scent of night-blooming jasmine curling up from the planters. Damon didn’t move until I was beside him, and even then, he just tilted his head slightly, studying me.
“You wore blue again.”
“I like blue. It reminds me of the wide-open sky.”
He nodded once. “It suits you.”
We walked in silence past rows of orchids and moonflowers. The deeper we went, the mo
