A Forever of Orange Blossoms (The Merriams Book 5)

by Ava Miles

  Annie’s heart clutched. She was grateful for the help, and she knew Amelia would be over the moon about Arthur, but the twins would make things difficult. They were angry about Flynn, and they didn’t care who knew. Heck, they’d turned their faces away when she’d bent to kiss them goodbye tonight.

  Which meant they wouldn’t be agreeable with his uncle. Maybe June would be willing to provide some extra help. Annie could usually count on her, unless Tom decided to put up a fuss. June was a peacemaker by nature, and she usually didn’t take sides. If Tom and Annie weren’t on the same page about something, she instead attempted to walk a narrow line between the two of them.

  “Amelia loves to play outside with Carrot, her pony,” Annie said, “and I’ll be around to help, of course.”

  “You’ll be making the difficult stuff for the baskets, I hear,” Arthur said as Hargreaves set his drink down. “Thank you, Hargreaves. I’m sure it will be worth the wait.”

  The butler’s mouth tipped up, but he bowed formally. “As am I, sir.”

  Annie had a feeling these two bantered happily as a matter of course.

  Arthur took a sip and then said, “My granddaughter has twin girls. They’re three and just as crazy and wild as their mother. They hide my shoes and steal red hots from my pockets, but I love them to pieces. Your twins are ten, I hear. When do they get home from school, Annie?”

  “Around three thirty on the days they take the bus,” she said, somehow reassured to hear Arthur had experience with twins, even if her girls were at a completely different stage. “They have after-school activities a few days a week, but June offered to drive them while I’m working on this order. She’s the mother of my deceased husband.”

  “That was kind of her,” Clara said with a soft smile. “If at any time we’re underperforming our duties, you simply let us know—or talk to Flynn. We want you to be comfortable with everything, and we also want to make sure Merriam Enterprises has its holiday baskets. We’re here to do what’s needed.”

  “Thank you, Clara,” Annie said, liking the woman’s frankness. “I’m sure we’ll do fine. I only hope the days aren’t too long for you. Or the standing. We can figure out a different setup in my lab if need be. It’s going to be a little cozy, but we’ll make it work.”

  “Of course we will,” Flynn said, giving her one of his golden smiles. “I’m looking into finding some extra space for us to assemble the baskets anyway. If we need to set up another station, we will.”

  Her mind started racing about everything they needed to do.

  The clock was ticking, as it were, so much so that Annie had stayed up until midnight working after Flynn had left at nine. Of course, Tom had broken the mood between them, which was undoubtedly what he’d intended.

  Today, her anger at him had simmered along with the hot water baths for the batches of goat milk lotion she’d made. Even having Flynn alongside her, making more body butter, hadn’t fully alleviated her irritation.

  Still, it had surprised her how much she enjoyed having someone else in her lab, which had always been her sanctuary. They’d worked efficiently and peacefully together today. Flynn was easy company, so much so that her attraction to him sometimes caught her off guard. And she loved how wonderful he was with Amelia—he’d even gone out to play with her during their lunch break. June, who’d agreed to watch Amelia last minute, bless her, had come over with sandwiches. And yet, Annie had forced herself to withdraw a little—to look away when he tried to catch her eye and avoid touching him. Being around him only made her want to get closer, but Tom’s rudeness last night had wilted something inside of her.

  She had way too much on the line to risk everything for an attraction that wouldn’t lead anywhere. The holiday baskets had to get done on time, and if she wanted to impress the Merriams, they had to be fantastic. Her dreams depended on it. Which meant she’d need to ignore her attraction to Flynn. It would become yet another sacrifice in a long line of them for her children. She’d do anything for her girls, but it was hard not to feel crushed by the loss of something she’d barely had the chance to experience.

  “Have you checked with St. Brigit’s Church?” she asked, fighting off a wave of sadness. “They have a large parish hall you can rent. I can call their secretary if you’d like. We went to school together.” Of course, she was one of the people who’d gloated when Annie had come home pregnant out of wedlock. Annie would never understand why some people seemed to enjoy others’ misfortunes.

  He smiled before lifting his glass to her. “I should have asked you before. A toast. To our wonderful leader here. To Annie.”

  She flushed as red as her millionaire drink. “Please.”

  “To Annie,” Clara and Arthur both said, raising their glasses as well.

  Not wishing to be rude, she joined in the toast, and after they’d all sipped their drinks, she added, “To my wonderful helpers and new friends.”

  She hoped Flynn realized how lucky he was to have a family who supported him. How different might her life have been if she’d had one herself?

  Chapter 9

  As promised, Aunt Clara had yawned dramatically after dinner and put on a show of being too tired to stay for dessert. His aunt and uncle had excused themselves in short order. Flynn was grateful for the chance to be alone with Annie, especially since he knew they were safe from prying eyes. He’d rented out the dining room for the night, not wanting anyone to eavesdrop, and had even arranged for Hargreaves to bring them dessert instead of Mrs. Wingate.

  Maybe he’d be able to get Annie to open up again.

  Although they’d worked well together today—one reaching for something the other needed without being asked—she’d been jumpy and a bit guarded. Was it any wonder? Tom had passed the window at least half a dozen times, always peering inside the lab when he did so.

  But Flynn didn’t want to think about that right now—he only wanted to think about the beautiful woman sitting next to him. When the butler lowered the dessert tray decorated with holiday trees on the table, Annie laughed. “Mrs. Wingate is really trying to win you over about our fine state. These are our most popular treats. Buckeyes. We do everything buckeyes around here, from football to dessert.”

  Flynn eyed the soft peanut butter balls dipped in chocolate except for their tops. “An Ohio peanut butter truffle. I love them already.” He popped one in his mouth, and the sweetness made his head swim. “I’m not going to be able to eat too many of these. But they’re delicious.”

  “Mrs. Wingate wanted to serve the buckeyes with vanilla ice cream, sir,” Hargreaves said, standing to the right of Annie, his posture straight as an arrow. According to Aunt Clara, she and Hargreaves (and sometimes Uncle Arthur) had recently taken up a more strenuous practice of yoga, tai chi, and qigong. He wondered if Hargreaves had been doing them his whole life.

  Since the man looked dubious about the ice cream, maybe because peanut butter and vanilla didn’t gel in his world, Flynn waved his hand. “None for me. Annie?”

  “Do you know what brand of ice cream she has, Hargreaves?” Annie asked.

  “It’s a special treat from a place called Knuckleheads,” he said, his tone ever-professional.

  Flynn wanted to laugh. Now he understood the butler’s look. That name would be enough to put Hargreaves off.

  “Then yes! I’d love some. Knuckleheads is an institution around here. Some of the best burgers and fries and ice cream around, even if you have to drive to Granville to get them.”

  Her sapphire blue eyes seemed brighter, and he was glad for it.

  “We’ll have to go then,” Flynn said, picking up another buckeye. “I love a good burger, fries, and ice cream.”

  She glanced over at him, and the light in her eyes dimmed. That cinched it. He was going to find out what was bothering her and bring it out in the open after Hargreaves served the ice cream and left for his room.

  When the butler set the most perfect two scoops of ice cream in front of Annie in one of Pene
lope’s fine gold-edged china bowls decorated with roses, Flynn sent a smile his way. “Thank you, Hargreaves. I’ll take care of Annie for the rest of the night. See you early tomorrow morning.”

  “Of course, sir,” he said with a slight bow. “Again, a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Loudermilk. I’ll see you both in the morning.”

  As soon as he closed the doors, Annie started scooping up her ice cream with the haste of a Formula One driver. “Mrs. Wingate probably wants to clear the table, and I know you need to get your own rest. The girls are probably asleep now, but June likes to get to bed early. She’s put in a long day for me and the girls last minute.”

  Flynn held up his watch. “She seemed happy to help when we spoke today. It’s not quite eight. Take a breath. Are you really telling me you’re in a hurry to go home and hit the hay?” Isn’t that what they said in this part of the world? He was sure he’d heard it in a movie.

  “Actually, I’m probably going to make more lotion,” she said, scooping up more ice cream with gusto. “But June—”

  “Understands you have a business meeting,” he said, picking up his spoon. “Mind if I have a taste?”

  She shook her head quickly as their eyes locked. He saw a flicker of heat there before she looked away. “Not at all. I… Sure… Have all you want.”

  Shoving it his way with the same force with which she’d been eating it, she almost pushed the bowl off the table. He caught it and set it calmly between them. “You seem a little agitated. Want to tell me why?”

  She let out a trickle of laughter so high-pitched it might have registered on the operatic scale. “I’m waiting for Mrs. Wingate to burst in on us with my father-in-law behind her. I wouldn’t be surprised to see him carrying a torch. Flynn, I—”

  He set his spoon aside, turning his chair to face her. “Yes, Annie.”

  “I’m not sure anything can come of this attraction between us.” Her spoon thudded on the table as she set it down. “Like I told you last night, my life is complicated, and you’re only here for a short time. Plus, there’s our business arrangement to consider. I want to do a wonderful job so Merriam Enterprises will make an offer on my company.”

  He didn’t like where this was headed.

  “And even if that weren’t a factor, I don’t have time for romance. I’m a single mother with three girls, and I’m trying to fulfill the largest business order I’ve ever gotten. Around the holidays to boot. I wish things were different, but spending time with you is going to be impossible. I can’t let myself think otherwise.”

  She didn’t stop him when he took her hand. “Is that why you stepped back from me today?”

  She looked down in her lap. “I was afraid Tom might burst in again, and I was trying to think through the best way to fulfill this order and make a good impression and pacify the twins. Flynn, I never wanted to hurt your feelings.”

  “You didn’t.” He rubbed the top of her hand, noticing how soft it was. All day he’d watched her rub samples of her lotions into the back of her hand, testing them. He’d wanted to volunteer his hand—or any other body part she wanted—for the testing of her product. But he’d known to keep those thoughts to himself, given her restraint.

  “I’m glad because that would be the worst thing ever.” She looked over at him, her blue eyes darkening. “I really like you, Flynn.”

  He raised her hand and kissed it. “I really like you too. Perhaps it’s time to tell you how much. But first… How much do you really know about me?”

  “I might have taken you up on your offer to do some research on you.” She pushed away the melting ice cream. “Setting all of the Merriam stuff aside, you’re thirty, very successful, stylish, well-traveled, funny, and I expect you’re smarter than you let on.”

  “Thank you. My family also likes to tease me about being a playboy without a cause. I guess you can say I have something of a reputation for being impulsive. Shallow even. I’m the only one of my brothers who’s avoided taking a position of leadership in the company. Doesn’t help that I’m the youngest. Did you read about any of that?”

  She nodded. “The tabloids were…informative. I know you like to have a good time, and you’ve dated a lot of models.” She averted her eyes when she said that, and it hurt to think she might feel intimidated or uncomfortable because of that. He didn’t ever want to make her feel that way. “But I trust Emily,” she continued, “and she never would have suggested that we were a good match if she thought you were shallow or a bad person.”

  It seemed Emily was racking up the gratitude cases of champagne. Maybe tomorrow he’d text her and thank her. “Here’s the thing about strings—I only seem to shy away when I’m not all in. Give me something I’m passionate about, though, and I’m ready to sign up on the spot. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  She slowly shook her head, holding his gaze as she did so.

  He blew out a breath. Screw it, he was going to tell her everything. “What I’m trying to tell you is that we Merriams have this particular propensity to recognize our soulmates when we meet them. I have five other siblings who can attest to this in addition to my parents. This might sound crazy, Annie, but when I first saw you, I knew you were my soulmate.”

  Her mouth opened slowly and stayed there, and he inched to the edge of his chair, awash in his own nerves. Did she think he was nuts? Some kind of overzealous stalker?

  “I know we’ve just met, and there’s no denying your life has its complications,” he said. “But I’m all in, Annie.”

  She mumbled something and shook her head.

  “I want to get to know you better,” he continued. “I want to explore this attraction between us. But I already know how I feel about you. The other night when we were making body butter together? It showed me what it would be like for us. Easy. Fun. Like hanging out with your best friend, who just so happens to be the woman you want to go to bed with.”

  She pushed her chair back from him, and he dropped her hand. He sucked in a breath as she stepped away from the table, her back to him.

  “I know we just met,” he said again on his exhale, “but my gut told me to be upfront with you so you’ll understand how serious this is for me. If you’ll let me, I’ll help you move aside every obstacle you see between us. I promise you. Just give me the chance.”

  His heart was beating in slow, steady thuds inside his chest, and the longer she was quiet, the more he struggled to breathe.

  “Give us a chance, Annie,” he finished, feeling like the edge of his seat was suddenly the edge of a cliff. “Two weeks. Give me two weeks to show you what it’d be like with me and my family. Two weeks to show you I’d be a good partner for you, in every way.”

  She turned around, and he panicked when he saw the tears in her eyes.

  But then she reached for him, her hand like a lifeline in turbulent waters. “I don’t think I can let you walk away from me. I want us to have a chance too, Flynn.”

  He almost passed out in relief, but instead he went to her. “Thank God.”

  Tears slid down her cheeks as she settled her hands on his hips. “I haven’t felt this sure about anything since I decided to go to makeup school in London. But you need to know: I really want to make a good impression on the business front too. I have to. It’s important for me, but also for the girls.”

  “I promise you I’ll only aid you in that, Annie,” he said, and he realized it was a vow.

  “I feel guilty saying this,” she said in a rush, “but I’ve never felt the kind of connection or attraction I feel for you with anyone.” She lowered her gaze. “Not even Ben. I suppose I should tell you more about him.”

  He tipped her chin up. “Not right now. This is our moment.”

  Their eyes met, and she nodded. He lowered his mouth to hers, closing his eyes at the first touch of their lips. Kissing someone had never felt like this before—like coming home. He felt her sigh rush out, and then she was pressing herself closer to his body. He angled her to the side, cup
ping her cheek as he took the kiss deeper. The inside of her mouth was still cold from the ice cream, but he soon warmed it with slow, tantalizing sweeps of his tongue. Her quiet moan resounded through his body, and then she joined him in the dance. His hands gripped her curvy waist and slid lower, bringing her in closer contact to where he wanted her.

  His moan sounded in the quiet room as her hands fisted in the jacket against his spine. Her need called to him, and he wanted to answer it and fulfill it, every way he could.

  She pressed away. Her eyes changed from slumberous to wide in a heartbeat. “My heavens… I’ve never…”

  “Neither have I,” he said, a smile turning up his mouth. “I think this is what my sister calls soul-kissing.”

  Touching her swollen lips, she cleared her throat. “Sounds apt. Whew! Excuse me while I…” She grabbed her water glass and chugged half the contents.

  He fought a grin as he studied the red flush on her skin. “Need some ice?”

  Her look spoke of shock, and then she laughed. “Yes, actually. Are you making fun of me?”

  He fished out a piece of ice from his glass and theatrically opened the top of his shirt and let it slide in. “No, only joining you.”

  Her mouth twitched. “You’re trouble. I knew that last night.”

  “Yes, I am.”

  Her smile spread, the sun emerging from the clouds, and he felt his heart clutch as he looked at her. “You’re so beautiful, Annie,” he said, because it needed to be said. “No, it’s more than that: you take my breath away.”

  She ducked her head before saying, “I’m okay, but you’re… My God, you’re too handsome for words. Oh, and I love your style. It makes me miss Europe and everything about it.”

  She’d worn black pants and a black sweater tonight with black heels, and he’d wondered if she’d chosen them as a compromise between the Annie she was used to being here in Nemo and the Annie who’d gone to makeup school in Europe. Many of the people he knew in makeup and fashion wore all black.