“Okay,” I whisper.
He nods once, sharp and grim, then walks toward the office with his phone already in his hand.
I stand there, throat tight, the cut throbbing near my brow, and my heart pinching behind my ribs.
As I turn back to the feed room, Dane appears.
“Jesus,” I snap. “Do men in this yard only approach by ambush now?”
He lifts both hands. “Wow. You’re jumpy today. Scared I caught ya slackin’ off?”
“I should be so lucky.”
“A courier dropped something off for ya.”
“For me?”
“Yeah. It’s sitting on the kitchen table.”
I frown. “Is it big? All the orders are meant to come through here.”
“Nah, it’s small. Looks personal,” he says. “You must have ordered a new personality.”
“You’re a dick.”
I flip him off and head back to the house.
At the back door, I kick off my boots and step inside, shrugging out of my coat as I follow the bitter scent of old coffee into the kitchen.
A small plastic courier bag sits on the table, my name printed in black ink across the label.
No return address.
No logo I recognize.
The prickle at my nape comes back. I pull open the cutlery drawer, grab a pair of scissors, and snip through one end.
Inside there’s a small velvet box.
For a second, I just stare, because whatever I expected, it wasn’t this.
I set the scissors down and crack it open.
Gold shines in the gray daylight pouring in through the windows.
A short chain lies coiled against black silk, delicate and weighty, with a heart pendant resting in the center. Black diamonds sit across the surface, dark little sparks trapped inside the gold.
My breath leaves in a long sigh because next to the pretty heart is the letter F, also set in black diamonds.
I’m dumbstruck for a second before I drag out a chair and sit with the box open in front of me, then close the lid before opening it again because apparently, I don’t trust my own eyes.
The F is still there.
Small. Dark. Expensive.
My hand moves inside the courier bag, and something stiff catches against my fingers. I pull out a crisp white card.
Gold lettering gleams on one side.