Summer emerged from her office, rubbing at the back of her neck and half-scrolling her phone — until her gaze landed on the bouquet sitting proudly on the kitchen counter. She stopped mid-step. A blink, then a slow tilt of her head as if not quite trusting what she saw.

  Andy watched her from the couch, unseen still, holding his breath.

  She moved toward the flowers, lifting them from the glass with care. "What... " she murmured, trailing off, her expression softening with every breath she drew in of the delicate scent. Then, suddenly, she whipped around, eyes scanning the apartment. Her gaze snagged on him instantly.

  Andy gave her a crooked grin from where he lounged like an absurd painting, one arm still draped dramatically across the couch's back.

  "Surprise," he said, wiggling his fingers in a lazy little wave. "You're being courted. Flowers and everything."

  "Were you just sitting there?" she exclaimed. "For how long?"

  "Forty minutes. I kept count. I suffered," he said dramatically. "But I endured."

  Summer clutched the bouquet close to her chest, visibly trying not to smile too hard. "You're a menace," she said, voice suspiciously affectionate.

  "And yet, I bring you flora," Andy countered, standing and stretching theatrically before crossing the space between them. "I thought they might sweeten the blow of your abominably long meeting-filled Friday."

  She looked up at him, the flowers nestled in her arms, and said quietly, "They do."

  He touched her cheek, tender. "Then they've done their job."

  Summer turned, laying the flowers down gently. She filled a fiestaware vase at the sink and gently arranged the bouquet, adjusting the angle of a pale pink alstroemeria, then a sprig of green that had shifted.

  Andy followed like a tall, attentive shadow, close enough that the soft rustle of his movement brushed her awareness with every step. He leaned against the counter beside her, watching her fingers move like she was crafting a spell.

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  "That's almost unfair," he said under his breath. "You make that look elegant."

  Summer glanced sideways at him, amused. "Putting flowers in water?"

  "It's the concentration. The care. You're like a woodland enchantress about to hex the forest into bloom."

  "You're ridiculous," she said, cheeks warming, though she didn't seem to mind.

  Andy grinned. "And yet, you keep me around. Now... " He bumped her hip gently with his. "Are you ready to be kidnapped?"

  She gave him a mock-suspicious look. "Where are we going?"

  "I have an appointment. With a boutique. That happens to have mirrors the size of doorways, pedestals, helpful attendants who will bring you champagne, and dresses that will make you question reality."

  Summer blinked at him. "You booked me a couture fitting?"

  "I told you I was going to spoil you," Andy said, brushing a strand of her hair over her shoulder. The faint scent of spearmint from her conditioner teased his senses. "Come on, Summer. Let me watch you become the storm that walks into a gala and ends worlds."

  * * *

  As Summer locked the door behind them, she glanced down at herself, tugging at the hem of her soft black tanktop and the waistband of her broomstick skirt. "Are you sure I'm not underdressed for this? I thought couture boutiques were, you know... intimidating."

  Andy didn't slow. He kept hold of her hand as they descended the steps, his pace easy but insistent. "You look perfect," he said. "And besides, the owner is a friend. He won't care what you're wearing when you walk in. He'll care what you're carrying when you walk out."

  Summer snorted quietly, trying not to feel self-conscious. "You're just trying to get me into a dress that costs more than my rent."

  He glanced over, smiling sidelong. "Only if it makes you glow."

  "That's not how clothing works."

  "Sure it is. You put on the right thing, and suddenly you're ten feet tall and immortal." He squeezed her hand. "I've seen it happen."

  They reached Andy's car, and he opened the passenger door with a flourish. Summer slid in, still chewing her lip. Andy rounded the hood and got in on his side, starting the engine with a quiet purr.

  "He'll like you," he said, casting her a reassuring glance as they pulled away. "And even if he didn't — which he will — I do. And I want to see you trying on every dress that catches your eye. That's the whole point."

  "Of taking me dress shopping?"

  He gave her a look full of mock scandal. "Of treating my girlfriend like the goddess she is." Then, a wink. "You are my girlfriend, right? Or should I stop kidnapping you and bringing you flowers?"

  Summer smiled faintly. "You're the worst."

  "That's not a no."

  "It's a yes," she said softly, voice barely above the hum of the car. "But I still think you're ridiculous."

  Andy beamed and reached over to brush his thumb across the back of her hand. "Ridiculous about you. Which is my favorite kind."