by Cari Quinn
He watched cartoons while she got ready, laughing aloud at the antics of Stewie and crew on reruns of Family Guy. He’d made himself a bowl of cereal from her lone box of cornflakes, and munched them sans milk as if she’d presented him with haute cuisine—well, if such a thing existed for breakfast.
But his interest in cartoons and cereal ended the instant she stepped into the living room.
Dillon eyed her as if she’d donned a leather bustier and garters. “Damn.”
“Do you like?” She did a little twirl, knowing full well she’d gone overboard for work. But damn, she’d enjoyed slipping into the short navy skirt and clingy V-neck top. Especially when she’d paired them with nude hose and heeled boots that made her legs good, even by her own critical standards.
Really good, if the glazed and slightly dumbstruck expression Dillon wore was anything to go by.
“I love.” He pounced before she had time to prepare, taking her mouth with a suddenness that stole her breath and her common sense right along with it. Right now, throwing her arms around his neck and pressing her body against his seemed like the best idea she’d ever had.
She was in serious trouble.
“Mm, even your toothpaste tastes sexy.” Grinning, he flicked his tongue along the corner of her mouth, digging into the grooves of her smile. “You look ah-mazing, Alexa. One-step-from-a-heart-attack incredible.”
She laughed and stepped around him to collect her purse. “Thanks for the explanation.”
“Since we’re new friends and all, I figured you might need help learning my personal lexicon.”
“New friends who barely know anything about each other,” she teased.
“Must be time for the big getting-to-know-you talk.” He crossed his arms over his barrel chest and grinned. “I’m twenty-nine, single, standard set of parents. I own my own home, a Harley, a dented old boat, and a Silverado.”
“Any siblings?”
He frowned. “One. A brother.” Before she could question him further, he pressed on. “No kids. My hobbies are fishing, painting, and riding my bike.” He scratched his scruffy chin. “Oh, and I’m a Leo.”
“My psychic told me I was going to marry a Leo.”
“Huh. I don’t think we need to get fitted for matching wedding bands quite yet.” He cocked his head. “You have a psychic?”
“She’s my best friend Nellie’s cousin.” She shrugged. “Her specialty’s the tarot.”
“Interesting.” But his expression said it clearly wasn’t.
“You paint?” She tried to imagine this big, strapping, tattooed man’s man holding a dainty paintbrush. Though she’d already seen him with the watering can. In his hands, daisies were sexy. “Really?”
“Really.” He hesitated as if he was about to divulge a painful secret. “Watercolors. Not often anymore. I don’t have the time.”
“That’s cool.”
He only lifted a brow as if to say “yeah, right.”
“I’m serious. I’d like to see some of your work sometime.” She had to laugh at his dubious expression. “C’mon. Let’s go.”
It felt odd to follow him downstairs, and odder still to clasp his hand when he held it out. She should be rushing into the store to get her morning routine started, not taking the time to stroll in the sunshine as if her day were entirely her own.
Your only responsibility is to make yourself happy.
Pfft to that one. She couldn’t just forget the promises she’d made to herself—and to Roz—even if Roz hadn’t been around to hear them. For once she wanted to do something on her own, just to prove to herself that she could. This time, she was sinking or swimming all on her own.
“Penny for your frown.” Dillon swung their hands between them as they made their way to the end of the street.
“Was I frowning?”
“Yes. You get the cutest wrinkle right here.” He rubbed his finger between his eyes. “What has you worried on such a beautiful day?”
She glanced up at the deep-blue, cloudless sky. The bright sunshine made her squint, but she loved the warmth on her back and shoulders. Flowers bloomed all around them. Dandelions and wildflowers competed with clumps of pink mountain laurel and looked almost as beautiful.
And everything was so green. The vibrancy of the colors around her took her breath away, as if she were seeing the place for the first time. Even her own building, the one she’d decried as below her station, somehow looked tall and regal when she glanced back to ascertain her world hadn’t changed overnight.
So if the world hadn’t changed, what had? Her?
He squeezed her hand and she inhaled deeply. Hard to be depressed or anxious when a gorgeous guy with hair as gold as the day spinning out in front of them sauntered at her side. He hadn’t allowed her to be alone when she’d been at the bottom of her own personal well.
No, for once, she didn’t feel worried. All she felt at that very moment was grateful.
“It is a beautiful day. You’re right.”
“I often am. Remember that the next time you’re tempted to argue with me.” He pulled her against his side at the corner to wait for the stoplight to change. “So what’s on the agenda today in flowerland?”
“Flowerland?” She smiled while they hurried across the street. Or rather, she hurried. Dillon’s long legs ate up ground at their own lazy pace, as if he expected the world to simply wait for him to catch up. Looking as beachcomber-sexy as he did effortlessly, it just might. “A friend of a friend’s getting married next year and she wanted to discuss Divine handling the arrangements. But I don’t think it’s going to work out.”
They walked past Value Hardware, which already seemed to be moving at full-steam. One of the workers watered a hanging arrangement next to the door. Alexa frowned while the kid splashed water on the drooping red flowers. With some good soil, she could help that ailing geranium. It certainly wouldn’t do well out in today’s hot sun when the kid likely wasn’t even soaking the roots.
Actually, he seemed much more interested in looking over his shoulder at Alexa and Dillon. A wide smile crossed his freckled face, and he opened his mouth to speak, but Dillon lengthened his stride, suddenly speeding up.
She smiled again. How sweet. He knew how she felt about that place and he didn’t want her to have to see it for any longer than necessary.
He really was a nice guy. She didn’t meet nearly enough of those. How strange that she’d stumbled upon him when she’d been at her lowest point.
Strange and sort of wonderful.
“How come you don’t think it’s going to work out?” he asked, voice slightly strained, once they’d made it past the sprawling hardware store.
“I don’t have the staff, for one thing. My new floral designer just took another job so I’m on my own. Except for Nellie, the godsend. She’s working with me part-time.”
“That’s good. Sucks about your other designer though.”
Alexa shrugged. “Patty got a better offer. I can’t really blame her for going. If I were in her position, I would’ve left too.”
“No, you wouldn’t.” His quiet certainty caused her to stare up at him. Perspiration dotted his temples, but somehow that only made him look more rugged. She could so see him on a ladder, painting a house with his shirt off and all those golden muscles flexing. Those talented hips swiveling with his natural grace while he mounted each step, then turned to shoot her one of those dazzling grins that swept the thoughts from her head like sand from a bucket.
She shook herself out of her reverie. Whatever the positives to having Dillon around, he certainly didn’t help with her concentration. “How do you know I wouldn’t have left?”
“Because you’re determined. You’d see the possibilities at Divine, not the problems. As you do now, even though you’re frightened you’re not enough to face them.” He turned her toward him with a gentleness that made her heart race. “You are.”
She swallowed and gazed up into his compassionate expression, w
anting so badly to burrow into the safety of his embrace like he was her shelter in the storm. Her gut told her she could trust Dillon James.
God, she wanted to.
When she didn’t respond, he tugged lightly on her hand and they started walking again, slowing at the attractively decorated windows of the bakery. “So you think the friend’s event will be way too big for you to handle on your own?”
“I’m not set up for something that size. Even with temporary help.” She pressed a hand over her stomach as it growled. “Eileen’s inviting over a hundred people. I just don’t think I could do it, even with a ton of lead time. Even if Nellie continues to pick up flower design as well as she has so far, I can’t ask her to bust her ass when she’s exhausted and dealing with swollen ankles.”
“Nellie’s your sister-in-law?”
“And best friend. She’s very pregnant.” Alexa sighed and dragged her attention from a fancy wedding cake. It was just making her hungrier. At least she had a granola breakfast bar with her name on it waiting for her in her desk drawer. “She’s due in four months.”
“That’s great. You must be excited, auntie-to-be.” He gifted her with another of those smiles he dispensed like candy and pulled on her hand. “Let’s go in.”
“Oh no, I shouldn’t,” she said weakly as he led her into the bakery.
The scents of freshly baked bread and vanilla washed over her in a comforting wave, and her stomach rebelled with another loud groan. She clutched her belly and winced.
“On a diet?” Without looking back at her, he urged her up to the huge, well-lit case of decadent treats. “Trust me, you don’t need to. You’re perfect as is.”
“It’s not my diet I’m worried about.” Her gaze dipped to the price beneath a fat cranberry-orange muffin. Three dollars for a stinking muffin? Her lunch cost that at the deli down the street.
“Don’t worry about anything, okay? Can you do that for me?”
She didn’t reply to his low question as the older woman behind the counter bustled up to them. It wasn’t as if Dillon could be in an incredible financial position himself. Handymen didn’t make that much, did they? She honestly had no clue. Though he probably could afford a few muffins, right?
But when he bought half a dozen of them along with two cups of coffee—more chocolate raspberry for her—and various assorted treats the woman packed into multiple boxes, she raised an eyebrow. “You planning on feeding a battalion?”
He flipped out his wallet and withdrew a gleaming silver credit card. “I thought it’d be nice to leave some on the counter at Divine. And—” He broke off, looking uncharacteristically awkward. Then he covered his unease with a smile for the woman behind the counter. “Throw in a bunch of napkins, would you?”
She beamed. “For you, Dillon, of course.”
“She knows you?” Alexa whispered when the woman went to fill his order.
“I come in here now and then.” He shrugged.
Maybe handymen made more than she realized. He did seem to have a wide range of skills in that area. Perhaps he diversified enough to bring in a decent income. She bit her lip, considering his profile. Or could he be trying to show off a little? Maybe he’d suggest an expensive restaurant next and then she’d know he was wooing her.
Which didn’t sound half-bad, truthfully.
Laden down with several white bakery bags, they entered Divine a few minutes later. She didn’t have to unlock the door, which gave her a moment’s pause until she heard the music flowing out from the back room. More jazz. She blew out a breath. Imagine that.
Dillon cocked a brow. “Who’s here?”
Nellie came into the store with her arms full of gladiolus. She smiled over them at Alexa, her eyes alighting on the bakery bag she carried. “Oh, you brought donuts! Thank God. I’m starving.” Then she noticed Dillon and did a double take. “Oh, you brought more than that, I see.”
Alexa gestured at Dillon and fought her sudden bout of nerves. Introducing him to her best friend made all of this more real somehow. Too real.
“Nellie Conroy, this is Dillon James.” She flailed for an appropriate introduction. God, what should she say? “He’s, um, my apartment building’s handyman. Dillon, Nellie.”
Judging from the narrow-eyed glance he gave her, she shouldn’t have said that. Terrific. Yet another flub to add to her growing list.
As annoyed as he clearly was at Alexa, he was all smiles for Nellie. “Hi. Nice to meet you. Here, let me give you a hand with those.”
Before Nellie could say anything, he’d swept the flowers out of her arms and laid them down on the paper-covered prep table behind the checkout counter. “These smell good,” he said, his agile fingers plucking through the long-stemmed flowers with a care that made Alexa swallow hard. He didn’t look at her, and she felt the loss of his teasing glances as acutely as a slap.
Dammit, she hadn’t meant to hurt him.
“My name’s actually Noelle,” Nellie said, propping her hands on her hips. She gave Alexa the evil eye. “Though Lex and Jake can’t seem to remember that.”
“Oh, you’re such a Nellie. Get over it already.” To distract herself, Alexa set the bakery bag on the counter and tucked her purse behind it. Then she drew out her morning checklist and noted with a mixture of pride and concern that Nellie had already checked off a handful of things. Those were her tasks. She liked going around checking on everything each morning, noting which flowers looked a little worse for wear, which she would have to baby. What she was low on, what she had too much of. How the different arrangements looked in the different slants of light from morning to afternoon. Straightening until everything was just so.
“Yeah, and you’re such a type A.” Nellie eased past her and snatched the bag. “That’s Lex’s nickname,” she added before she bit into a blueberry muffin.
“Can’t say it doesn’t fit,” Dillon said, though he clenched his jaw again the instant he caught her looking at him.
Had he really expected her to announce him as her lover? Just put it right out there like that? It wasn’t as if they were dating. Not exactly.
Okay, so they kind of were. Did that mean she had to tell the world?
Apparently it did.
“So you were up early working at Alexa’s,” Nellie said into the silence. “Or up late,” she added meaningfully.
The implication of her statement wasn’t lost on Alexa, but she needed to get the day started. “Thank you for coming in early to open up,” she said to Nellie, her tone brisk. “I got a late start this morning.”
“And it didn’t cheer you up any.”
“She was plenty cheerful until she came in here.”
“It’s her game face.” Nellie licked traces of blueberry off her fingers. “Can’t smile at work. Not the big boss lady.”
“Oh, stop it. We laughed all afternoon yesterday.”
But that had been different. She hadn’t felt Dillon’s presence like ants marching up her spine. His subtle hurt over how she’d introduced him permeated her consciousness. She hated that her first inclination was to push people away. Push him away.
“Can’t argue with that,” Nellie said, propping her hands on her hips. Her ginormous engagement ring winked in the sunlight, reminding Alexa of everything her best friend had and she didn’t. A man who loved her, who thought she’d hung the sun. A family. A contented life, where she wouldn’t ever be alone to fight the demons in her head.
“I have stuff to do in the back,” Nellie said, waving what was left of her muffin. “Thanks for the eats, Dillon.”
“No problem.” Once Nellie had disappeared, he looked down at the client list she clutched in her hand. “So you do have a mailing list, of sorts.”
His voice still sounded colder than usual. She’d just have to work her way around to warming him up.
“This is a repeat customer list. I call them to try to drum up more business. They haven’t asked to sign up for anything.”
“So sign them up for
your e-mail newsletter, maybe something you send out seasonally when you update your website. You still have that kid working on it, right?”
“Yes.” She was too stunned he’d taken this tack with her again to say more. What kind of handyman had such a keen interest in business?
Maybe it’s you he has a keen interest in.
“So have him put together a newsletter while he’s at it. Simple enough for people to unsubscribe if they don’t want it, and a lot less pressure for you.” He tapped the paper. “Tell you what. I’ll put this into a spreadsheet. Will make it easier all the way around.” He took her shoulders and ushered her toward the back office. “While we’re at it, we can brainstorm your goals for the shop. We can break them down by season, since you work that way anyway.”
“Why am I doing that exactly?” she asked as he pulled out a chair in front of her laptop and nudged her into it. The back door thunked closed, indicating that Nellie must’ve retreated outside to allow them privacy. For their spreadsheets.
Good Lord.
“There’s power in writing things down,” he said, straddling a folding chair backward. “I’m sure you carry stuff in your head, but getting it on paper will help you see how to break it down in steps. An action plan, if you will. Something you’re already doing,” he added, apparently noticing her slack jaw. “You’re on the right path already. You just need to shore it up a bit. Have you given any thought to those ideas I mentioned the other day? The lower-end arrangements, the cheap impulse buys for the counter?”
“A little,” she admitted, thinking of the window displays she still hadn’t put together. She’d almost abandoned the idea as a waste of time when Dillon had steamrolled her with his flurry of suggestions, but since then, she’d found herself planning in every spare moment. “It’s a lot to do. Without much staff.”
“Action plan,” he reminded her, tapping the computer out of hibernation. “Let’s get everything down, then we’ll start weeding out what will and won’t work. After we add in a projected time line, you can discuss it with Nellie and get started.”
She stared at him, caught between feeling hopeful at his contagious determination and affronted that he obviously believed she couldn’t do this on her own. “This is my store.”
