Mailah buried her face in her hands, letting out a long, desperate sigh. She reached out and tugged hard on the sleeve of Grayson's navy coat.
"Grayson!" Mailah hissed in a quiet whisper. "Stop scaring the florist! He was just handing me a packet of seeds!"
Grayson turned to Mailah, his jaw setting into a sulky, jealous line. He held the small packet of lavender seeds out to her with extreme care, his expression turning into that of a wounded, dramatic child.
"He stood too close to you," Grayson grumbled softly under his breath, his long thumb gently brushing against her palm as he handed her the seeds. "And his smile was entirely too eager. I was well within my sovereign rights to assert my dominance."
"You cannot assert your dominance in a local plant shop, Grayson!" Mailah giggled softly, shaking her head in utter amusement. "He is twenty years old and selling lavender!"
