No Flowers Required

by Cari Quinn

  “For you,” she agreed. Her stomach burbled and she laughed. “Can we eat now?”

  “Soon, I promise.” Instead of sitting up to get the food, he tucked her head against his shoulder. He was so greedy for her. Just a couple minutes more. “I’d like to take you out on my motorcycle sometime. With your arms around my waist and no other sounds but the wind and the bike between our legs. You’d love it.”

  “Aren’t bikes dangerous?”

  “Only if you don’t know what you’re doing.”

  “And you do?”

  “You know it, baby.” She rolled her eyes at his smug grin and he couldn’t resist cuddling her just that much closer. “Let me take you out on my bike.”

  She blinked, obviously still unsure. Her bluebonnet eyes wove a spell around him, and damn if he ever wanted to see his way clear. “When?”

  His pulse bumped. Saturday was the night of the benefit. The days between now and then were growing shorter by the hour. “How’s Friday?”

  He’d go all out to plan a romantic evening and he’d finally tell her truth. Whatever it took, he’d make her sure she understood that all he’d wanted was to help her. Some of what he’d done might’ve been misguided, but his heart had always been in the right place.

  As for the rest of him…that was up to interpretation. But she couldn’t fault him for wanting her so much he couldn’t think straight, could she?

  Yeah. She probably could.

  “Friday’s okay. It has to be later in the evening, though.”

  “Right, the store’s open late. That’s fine. We’ll take a ride, have dinner. Enjoy the evening.”

  “It might even be later than normal.” A slow smile broke across her face. “Divine got a job. It’s a quick turnaround too.”

  “Really?” Thrilled for her, he squeezed her against his side and dropped a kiss on top of her hair. “That’s terrific. Tell me all about it.”

  “I will.” She granted him a megawatt Alexa grin. And it was all for him. “Since it’s all thanks to you. Well, mostly.”

  Curiosity piqued, he sat up and began to unpack the contents of the cooler. Then he lit the candles and sat back to view her lovely face in the flickering glow. “Going to tell me more?”

  “It involves your brilliant idea, a party that suddenly wasn’t complete without your brilliant idea on the tables, and a rush job that might lead to more if I can keep up with how fast your brilliant idea is selling. Guess I’ve turned into the queen of quickie jobs, but I don’t mind that title.” While he processed all that, she sidled closer and made a show of looking him up and down. “Eating naked? What will the neighbors think?”

  “If they haven’t already called the cops, I think they’re probably open-minded enough not to mind.”

  She rewarded him with her soft laughter and an even softer kiss. Her taste careened through his system. Everything faded away but him and Alexa, and candlelight, and the sultry summer air that surrounded them.

  Then she slipped back, eyes shimmering with the pink light of sunset, mouth wet and mischievous. Her smile widened at his expectant breath. “So what would you say if I asked you to help with that rush deadline I told you about?”

  He grinned, already juggling his commitments in his head. He’d do whatever was necessary to make the time. “I’d say you owe me dinner if you want me to put out.”

  …

  Over the next two days, he learned the meaning of true exhaustion.

  He twisted, and shaped, and pinned until his fingers were numb. His “creations”—he couldn’t in good conscience call them floral designs, though they did seem to improve as his volume increased—wouldn’t win any awards. When he put them next to Nellie’s and especially Alexa’s, to him they stood out like sparkly thumbs. But Alexa just shoved more materials into his hands.

  They kept going late into the evening on Thursday, then started again bright and early on Friday. Nellie brought her own form of ballast in the form of Alexa’s older brother, Jake, who seemed to spend as much time watching Dillon as he did fumbling through his own arrangements. But the help was definitely appreciated.

  It took all four of them working their asses off until after nine. Alexa counted up the arrangements, loudly declared the operation a rousing success, and immediately toasted Nellie with the sparkling grape juice she’d been holding in reserve. Then the two of them disappeared into the back room.

  Jake cornered him before he’d even taken his first sip. Dillon would’ve been more prepared for his attack had he not been consumed with staring after Alexa. The black seams of her stockings climbing up the backs of her shapely legs had tormented him all damn day.

  “I have a black belt in karate,” Jake said in an undertone.

  So much for pleasant reveries of licking his way up the backs of Alexa’s calves. “Great,” Dillon replied. “I, ah, have always liked Bruce Lee movies.”

  “I wanted you to understand who you’re dealing with. I know you’re banging my sister.”

  Dillon stared straight ahead, sure he’d misheard him. Maybe Jake had said seeing, which translated into banging in Dillon’s mind. It was possible. “Excuse me?”

  Jake let out an aggrieved breath. “Fine. Dating. Though it doesn’t sound like dating much to me. You fixed her sink, then what, you decided she could tip you with her body?”

  How was he supposed to answer that one? “Of course not. We’ve been in church every night, despite what your wife’s obviously told you.”

  He half-expected for Jake’s fist to collide with the sparkling juice on its way to his face. Instead all he got was a low laugh. “Right. We spent some time in church ourselves before we got married.”

  The ladies returned with more sparkling juice, Nellie talking on her cell while exchanging hot looks with her husband. Alexa watched them with a wistful expression while she sorted through her endless reams of paperwork.

  Now that Dillon had helped her create a few more graphs and charts, she had begun noting every supply she used on a checklist, right down to paper clips. She was an organizational freak’s idea of a dream date.

  When she glanced over at Dillon and winked, he had to shift at the sudden tightening in his jeans. Or a handyman-slash-business owner’s, since he definitely dreamed about dating Alexa—and much more.

  “Looks like it turned out pretty good for you guys,” he said, tilting his cup toward Nellie.

  “Yes, it did,” Jake agreed, his gaze riveted on his wife. “But we had history. You and Lex barely know each other. And church or no church, biblically doesn’t count.”

  Dillon smothered a laugh in a cough. “I hear you. You’re right. We have a lot to learn about each other.” He glanced back at Alexa and noticed she’d switched to sifting through her mail. Right on top lay the glossy real estate magazine that contained a spotlight on the gala this month—and featured him. Shit. “But I’m willing to put in the time. I want to,” he added, already backing away from Jake.

  Dammit, he had to get his hands on that magazine before he talked to her. Or else he wouldn’t need to bother.

  “So she’s not just some random woman to you,” Jake stated, his narrowed eyes never leaving Dillon. “You’re not going to break her heart.”

  The first part was true. The second, he had little control over, at least anymore. What he’d set into motion could only be stopped with the truth.

  So, basically, he was fucked.

  He glanced at Alexa again and watched her run the eraser of her pencil over her mouth. So damn sexy. She could fondle a stapler and he’d get hard. Christ.

  “She means something to me.” Way too much.

  Jake studied him for a moment longer, then nodded and tossed back the rest of his drink. “Look, I know what it’s like to think you’re not good enough for someone. It took Nellie a while to prove it to me.” Jake’s smile showed he was taking a trip down memory lane, and from his expression, he wasn’t visiting the clean neighborhoods. “Lex’ll convince you eventually. If yo
u want to be convinced, that is.”

  Unsure how to respond, Dillon glanced down at his clothes as Jake ambled away. The guy saw him as the handyman in ragged jeans and a T-shirt, so naturally he assumed Dillon would doubt his attractiveness to an elegant woman like Alexa.

  But what if he was right? What if part of the reason he hadn’t yet come clean to Lex was because he wondered himself if Value Hardware—and by extension him—was the greedy, insensitive industrialist she’d accused it of being?

  And if so, what the hell was he going to do about it?

  “Attention everybody!” Nellie’s voice rang out over the music and Alexa and Jake’s voices. “My best friend has an announcement.”

  Dillon’s stomach tensed. Now what?

  Alexa beamed and waved a piece of mail that looked like a check. “Along with us kicking ass on the Yancy job—thank you very much—I got the money from the sale of the house today. So you know what that means, right?” She opened a drawer and withdrew a stack of papers. With a flourish, she dumped them in her wire trash basket and took out her lighter. “Time for these suckers to burn, baby, burn. Overdue? Screw you.” She laughed and set the corner of one alight. “Only for a minute, I promise,” she added at Nellie’s anxious expression. “It’ll be the smallest fire ever.”

  The environmentalist in him balked at the possible ramifications of starting a blaze, but that didn’t explain the quick seizing of his chest.

  She was burning the notices from Cory. From him, even if he’d never known they existed before a couple of weeks ago.

  The sound of the flames licking the paper disappeared in a flurry of whoops and laughter, followed by the sound of a cork exploding. “The real stuff this time.” Alexa grinned and poured the bubbly into her glass. “Sorry, Nellie. We’ll celebrate for you.”

  He had to get out of there. Even his presence was tainting what should be a joyous occasion, because all he could do was stand in the corner and watch Alexa commemorate what might very well lead to the end of their relationship.

  How had he believed he could just tell her the truth when it suited him? His reasons were just that—his reasons. Even if he’d been trying to help. Even if he’d wanted her to succeed so badly that he’d lost sight of what that might mean for them.

  Even if he lo—

  His phone rang and her gaze shot to him. Her vulnerability and confusion shone in her huge eyes. There were questions there, and the answers he’d been so ready to spill—so fucking sure he’d make it work, because it had to—were also on the verge of going up in smoke.

  He glanced at his cell, then strode to her and wrapped her in a brief, tight hug. “Congratulations, baby,” he whispered against her hair, unwilling to let her go. “I’m so happy for you.”

  “Me too. Thank you.” She looked up at him and bit her lip. The gulf between them yawned wide, as tangible as the glass of champagne she clutched. “Want a drink?”

  “I got a call. I have to go.”

  “Oh, okay. But you’ll be back?”

  The echo of what she’d said that day in her bathroom gave him another pang, this time square in his gut. “Yeah, I’ll be back,” he said quietly, already stepping away. He slid the incriminating magazine off the counter and held it up. “Mind if I borrow this?”

  She frowned, but nodded. “Sure.”

  “Thanks. Have fun, Alexa. You earned this.”

  As he turned, he glimpsed the papers kindling in the garbage can. Smoke curled in the air, searing his throat.

  Then Jake put out the minuscule fire and the flickers of flame went dark.

  …

  Where the hell was he?

  There’d been some sort of weird vibe between her and Dillon when he’d left, but she knew he was thrilled for the progress she’d made. Not only was she starting to have an actual steady stream of business, she could finally pay off Cory just as soon as the money from her house cleared her bank. Everything was falling into place.

  Including her relationship with Dillon. That’s what it was—an honest-to-God relationship. They’d started to build something real and she couldn’t wait to see what happened next.

  If he ever came back, anyway.

  To keep herself busy, she tidied the store and sprayed a little cinnamon air freshener to dispel the last of the smoke smell. It probably hadn’t been the smartest move to set off a fire indoors but she’d needed to do something concrete to celebrate. She’d left the past in the past and she was moving on into her very bright future.

  And she was a little drunk.

  Not too much. Just enough to incite a buzz in her bloodstream. She couldn’t wait to see Dillon. Tonight would be the best night of her life. She wasn’t even scared to get on his bike anymore. Right now she wasn’t scared of anything.

  The jingle of bells made her glance up and grin. The sight of his welcome face and that spiky little crown of hair he kept mumbling about getting cut made her so happy that she charged him, taking him off guard as she leaped into his arms. He staggered, barely holding on to her, and she sealed her mouth to his, drawing on his full lower lip until he groaned. “Lexa, wait—”

  “I like that. Lexa. So sexy.” She bit his flesh and caressed the wound with her tongue. He tasted like the rain that had just started slipping down the windows and she could see the droplets beading on his temples. “Call me that when you’re inside me. Here. Right here.”

  “Wait. No. Alexa,” he said pointedly as he slid her down his body and her heels thudded on the parquet floor. “We need to talk.”

  But she wouldn’t be dissuaded. She wanted her celebration, dammit, and she refused to see anything in his eyes except the arousal that had been on low boil inside her all day. There was nothing so important it couldn’t wait.

  “Do you understand what today meant to me?” she whispered, branding his mouth with hers. “How much I need tonight? Just. This.” She punctuated each word with an openmouthed kiss against his stubbled throat and reached down to cup his stiffening cock. Ah, see, he wasn’t nearly as reluctant as he pretended. Her abrupt touch ripped a groan from him and he reeled back, holding her at arm’s length.

  He stared into her eyes in the thin beam of light from the cold case, the only light she’d left on. The shadows swallowed his expression whole, but she could feel the way he tracked her face. First with his burning gaze, then with the backs of his fingers. Up the slope of her cheeks, over her temples. Along her quivering lips. The reverence in his strokes spoke to her, as if he were conveying without language exactly what she meant to him. How much she mattered.

  How much this mattered.

  “Goddammit, Alexa.”

  Without warning, he dragged her into his arms again. She shuddered as he sucked on the area between her neck and her shoulder, drawing with such powerful suction that her whole body vibrated. Moisture dampened her panties and her breasts swelled, nipples rising insistently against the soft cups of her bra.

  She wanted his hands there. Not on her sides, sliding up and down. Her blouse whispered against her skin with his movements, another subtle torture.

  When he whirled her toward the counter, she gasped and slapped her palms down to balance herself. She sensed rather than saw him kneel behind her. “What’re you doing?” she managed when a flash of lightning blazed across the store and she reflexively closed her eyes.

  He slid his hands up the front of her legs, his touch as silky as the ribbons they’d fought into bows that afternoon. His thumbs eased into her heels, tipping her feet up. Then the pads of his fingers were sliding up the back of her legs, tracing the seam of her hose.

  “All day,” he murmured, nipping the hollow of her knee. She startled, nails digging into the counter. “All day I’ve watched you walk in these, and this seam taunted me. This line of black stretching from the soles of your feet up to heaven. You hiding it from my eyes under this.” He toyed with the hem of her skirt, which might not have existed at all for how exposed she felt. “But I could still see you. I knew
what you’d look like under here, and what you were saving for me.”

  She didn’t speak as he rolled up the thin material. His sharp inhale upon glimpsing the lacy-topped hose and garters gave her a moment’s enjoyment, then his teeth grazed her thigh and she forgot about everything but his mouth. His teeth. The pressure of his tongue. Her sex clutched around air and she cried out, the sound becoming a moan at the relief his lips offered.

  He’d barely touched her and already she blazed for him. His fingers danced up and down the back of her calf, eliciting quivers she couldn’t suppress. He tormented her with an easy expertise she really didn’t care to dwell on, but she sure took advantage of it. Without hesitation, she rocked into his movements, as if he’d become her puppet master and she only existed to do as he bid.

  An erotic thrill shivered up her spine at the sensation of his wide palms smoothing her skirt higher, baring the silk of her panties. He ran a fingertip around the scalloped edge and murmured words of praise she strained to hear. Just his voice made her quake.

  Before this week, she wouldn’t have called herself a romantic, despite making her living tending flowers. Creating the fantasy of a perfect, pretty, flower-filled world made her happy, but it hadn’t changed the darkness she carried inside, that part of her that insisted happiness was something a person clung to before life and circumstance took it back again. But being with Dillon, more than anything else, made her believe. In romance. In hope. That not everything had to be difficult or hurt.

  He’d shown up at the absolute worst time. Or the best, depending on her point of view. All she knew was that a week ago she’d been mired in worry and now, this very minute, all that bore down on her was sweet, sensual need.

  Another clap of thunder shattered the web of intimacy he’d spun around them, until he nibbled the crease between her bikinis and the top of her leg and she jolted right back into that hot, dark space. He didn’t speak, at least not loud enough for her to decipher what he said. Somehow that only built the intensity of the moment.

  Slowly, so slowly, he crept toward the heart of her, where she craved his attention. Moans slipped through her parted lips. Her pulse pounded in her head. Between her legs.