by Jill Shalvis
“Own. My grandfather passed away a few years ago and left me a little money. I figured a house, even a small house, was a good investment.”
Handing her a glass, his gaze wandered down her form. The soft white cotton clung to her every curve and barely covered the essentials. “I like the way you look in my T-shirt.”
She smiled and accepted the glass. “I think you’re just easy to please.”
“Actually, I’m very particular. Especially about who wears my T-shirts.”
She raised her glass. “Happy holidays.”
“Happy holidays,” he repeated, touching his rim to hers. After taking a sip, he said in a casual tone, “Speaking of the holidays, what are your plans?”
“I’ll be heading to Santa Barbara tomorrow after work for Christmas Eve dinner-aka The Huge Italian Seafood Festival-at my mother’s. Spending the night there, then Christmas Day at my sister’s house. Much eating, opening of gifts and the inevitable arguments will ensue. How about you?”
“I’m on duty from seven tomorrow morning til seven Christmas morning. After that I’ll catch some sleep then head over to my folks’ house. My brother and his wife will be there, too.” He moved to stand in front of her. Reached out and tucked a silky curl behind her ear. “I was thinking maybe you’d like to join us. Either for dinner, or dessert, or just a drink.”
She went perfectly still. Even in the muted light he could see she paled a bit. “You mean like…meet the family?”
Uh-oh. Didn’t sound like she liked the idea. Part of his brain warned him to back off, but the other part told him to push on. Hell, she’d have to meet them sooner or later. Besides, he’d already issued the invite-he couldn’t take it back now. “They don’t bite,” he said lightly. “At least not much.”
The loudest silence he’d ever heard seemed to echo through the room. Finally she set down her wineglass, then stepped away from him. “Look, Brad, I don’t think-”
A faint musical ring tone interrupted her words. She frowned and cocked her head. “That’s my cell phone. And it’s Jayne’s ring tone. I left her at the store to finish a centerpiece. I’m sorry-I don’t think she’d call unless something was wrong.” She hurried toward the foyer where her coat hung on the brass coatrack.
“No problem,” he called after her, grasping on to any excuse to not have her finish the very unpromising sounding thing she’d been about to say. He felt, literally, saved by the bell. “I need to see to the steaks anyway. Take your time.”
T ONI ESCAPED to the foyer, feeling literally, saved by the bell. Brad’s suggestion that she meet his family, share part of the Christmas holiday with him, with them, had stunned her. Meeting the family was…serious. Which was why most guys avoided it like the plague. God knows she had no intention of bringing home any man she didn’t intend to marry. Unless, of course, she wanted to scare the guy off-one meeting with her evil-eye-giving family would surely send him screaming into the night.
No one brought their one-night stand to meet their parents. And no one invited their casual sex partner to a holiday meal. It simply wasn’t done. Clearly Brad believed that their one-okay three-night stand was something more than sex.
It is something more than sex, you doofus, her inner voice testily informed her. Just because you don’t want it to be and keep denying it, doesn’t make it any less true.
Drat. Her and her pain-in-the-ass inner voice were going to have a serious talk right after she finished with her phone call. She fished her cell from her coat pocket and flipped it open.
“Hi, Jayne. What’s up?”
“Hey, Toni. I’m so sorry to interrupt your date-”
“No problem. Trouble with the centerpiece?”
“No. It’s finished. But when I was putting the copy of the invoice on your desk, I found something odd and figured I’d better ask you about it.”
“What is it?”
“An order. It was underneath the book of bank-deposit slips. It’s in your handwriting, but it hasn’t been entered in either the appointment book or the order ledger.”
Toni frowned. Impossible. As soon as an order was taken it was entered into both logs. “What’s it for?”
“Saint Mary’s Cathedral. For five dozen poinsettias, six altar arrangements, and three dozen smaller arrangements. You noted on the order that the church van would arrive at 10:00 a.m. on the twenty-fourth for pickup. Since the twenty-fourth is tomorrow-”
“Oh. My. God.” Toni froze. Then the bottom seemed to fall out of her stomach. For several seconds the room actually went dark and dots swam before her eyes. Pressing her hand against her churning midriff, she leaned against the wall and tried to catch her stuttering breath.
The order for Saint Mary’s Cathedral. The huge order. The sort of high-profile order that could mean tons of business for her. The sort of order that could result in enough revenues to insure a successful bank evaluation. She’d spoken to the church secretary on the phone earlier in the week. Taken the order. She’d been very excited about getting it, but at the same time distracted. In a rush. Because by the time she hung up with the woman Toni had realized she was running late for her first “little dinner” at Sea Shells with Brad. So instead of doing what she should have done-taking the time to enter the order in the proper books, she’d left it on her desk and hurried off to get ready for her evening with Brad, promising herself she’d take care of the paperwork first thing in the morning. Instead she’d clearly set the bank-deposit book on top of the order. And had completely forgotten all about it. Until just now. Oh, God.
How could she have forgotten? How could she not have remembered it for four whole days?
But, of course, she knew the answer.
Brad.
Since that first night together, she’d been wandering around in a sensual, lust-glazed, emotionally confused haze. Instead of concentrating on her work and her business, she’d allowed her thoughts to wander to him constantly. She’d known getting involved right now was a mistake-that her business required all her focus. But had she listened to her better judgment? No. Instead she’d allowed her attention to be diverted. And now she was facing a business disaster of biblical proportions. If she’d failed to fill the order…God, she couldn’t even think of the consequences. The lost business of such a big client, and the other work that could have potentially come her way if she satisfied them. The black mark against her and her reputation. As it was, she wasn’t certain she’d be able to pull it all together.
“Toni, are you okay?”
She moistened her dust-dry lips. “Actually, no. All I can say is thank goodness you found that order and called me.”
“So it’s legit?”
“I’m afraid so.” She quickly explained her error.
“Oh, boy,” Jayne said. “That’s not good. We don’t have enough on hand to fill this order.”
“I know,” Toni said, her mind racing. “I’m on my way to the shop. The flower market opens at 4:00 a.m. I’ll put together as much as I can using what we have, then I’ll be at the market when it opens.”
“I’ll start preparing what roses we have right now,” Jayne said.
“No. You’ve been on your feet all day and even stayed late tonight to finish the centerpiece so I could leave.” She pressed her lips together. Another example of how she’d allowed her personal life to interfere with her business. “Go home to your husband. This is my mess and I’ll fix it. I’m eternally grateful you found that order.” As she spoke she shrugged her arms into her coat and scanned the floor for her missing shoes and panties.
“Even pulling an all-nighter there’s no way you’ll get all those arrangements done by yourself. Even with the two of us, it’s going to be tight. I’m staying to help.”
Gratitude filled Toni. “That’s more than I deserve for having made such a terrible mistake. Have I told you lately that I love you?”
“You just did. I love you, too. Hey, anybody’s memory would get wiped clean after six or seven orgasms and
an out-of-body experience.”
Which is precisely what had happened. And precisely what she wasn’t going to let happen again. For now, all she could do was pray she’d be able to get the flowers she needed when the market opened at 4:00 a.m., and finish the arrangements on time. Otherwise her name-and Blooming Pails’s-would be mud.
After assuring Jayne she was on her way, she shut her phone, slipped it back in her coat pocket and was struggling into her stilettos when Brad came into the foyer. “I have to go,” she said, the words running together as she impatiently rotated her foot to coax it into the high-heeled shoe. “Huge problem at the shop. A missed order. Client needs it in the morning. I’ll be pulling an all-nighter.”
Concern filled his eyes. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
Yes. Stop being so distracting. Stop making me want you. Go away so I can focus on what I need to concentrate on-which isn’t you. Come back in a year or two. Then maybe I’ll be ready for you.
Those were the words she actually needed to say to him, but didn’t have the time or the courage to do so now. “Thanks, but no.” She pulled her car keys from her pocket. “Sorry. I need to leave. Now.” She gave him a quick peck on the cheek then sprinted to her car and drove away without looking back, determined to put her focus back where it belonged.
Which meant that this had been her last night with Brad.
All she needed to do now was tell him.
9
A T QUARTER PAST SIX the next morning, holding a cardboard caddy bearing two extra-large coffees, Brad crossed the street leading to Blooming Pails. Only a few streaks of dark mauve colored the pre-dawn sky, but the inside of the flower shop was brightly illuminated. He could see Toni behind the counter, her brow bunched as she moved methodically down a lengthy row of floral arrangements set up on her long counter, adding flowers to each one. His heart sped up at the mere sight of her and he shook his head. Damn, he had it bad.
He glanced down at the coffees. He figured Toni would need one to get through the day after her all-nighter, and he needed one, as well, since sleep had mostly eluded him the night before. And not because of his disappointment at her needing to leave-although there was no denying his regret at that turn of events. No, it wasn’t the fact she’d left that concerned him-it was the way she’d left.
The cool, impersonal kiss. The cool, impersonal way she’d looked at him. There had been something in her quick exit that gave him the sinking feeling she wasn’t simply running to fix her work problem. It was more like she was running away from him. And his invitation to spend some time together on Christmas Day. That invite had definitely been a mistake as it had clearly freaked her out. He’d practically seen the wall she’d immediately erected between them. Not that she hadn’t had one there all along, but at least that barrier had contained a few weak spots, ones he’d held out hope of soon scaling.
She was upset about more than a work emergency. Something she hadn’t told him. Something he strongly sensed he wasn’t going to like. He’d wanted to ask her last night, but had forced himself to let her go, telling himself they’d have time to discuss it in the morning, after she fixed her work problem.
He’d spent the restless night trying to convince himself he was reading too much into her reaction to his invitation. To her lack of warmth when she left. That she’d been upset and distracted. But no matter how hard he tried to persuade himself, he couldn’t untie the knot of apprehension squeezing his insides.
Well, in just a minute he’d find out one way or another whether his gut instincts were right. He just hoped to hell they were wrong.
Brad jogged the last few steps across the street, and holding the cardboard coffee caddy in one hand, tapped on Blooming Pails’s glass door. Toni looked up and hesitated. And in that brief hesitation, a feeling of dread suffused him.
She came around the counter slowly, as if reluctant to do so, and approached the entrance. He tried to ignore the fact that she didn’t look at him. Not until she’d unlocked the door. “Hi,” she said.
He told himself the reason she didn’t smile was because she was clearly exhausted. “Good morning,” he said. “Merry Christmas Eve. I come bearing gifts.” He handed her one of the coffees.
That brought a slight uplifting of one corner of her mouth. “Thanks.”
Unable to keep from touching her, he brushed a fingertip over the violet shadows beneath her eyes. “How’s it going?”
“If nothing disastrous happens, I’ll finish about thirty seconds before the van arrives to pick up the order.”
“And you thought you’d be crunched for time.”
She gave a weak laugh. “Yeah. Silly me.”
“Is Jayne here?”
“She stayed until I left for the flower mart a few hours ago. The poor girl was exhausted.”
“You must be, too.”
“I am. But I’m not five months pregnant.”
A silence that felt distinctly uncomfortable to him swelled between them. Finally, unable to stand it any longer, he said, “Something’s wrong.”
The fact that she didn’t immediately deny it confirmed his worst suspicions. She looked at the floor, then raised her gaze back to his. What he saw in her eyes-or rather what he didn’t see there-tightened the knot in his gut. He knew damn well what was coming.
“Brad…I…” She blew out a long breath. “I think you’re a great guy and I’ve enjoyed the time we’ve spent together, but I can’t do it anymore.”
His knotted stomach seemed to drop to the floor. “If this is because I asked you to spend Christmas with me-”
“No, it’s not that. Not really, although that forcibly reminded me that we want different things. I told you from the start I wasn’t looking for a boyfriend, yet that seems to be the direction we were heading.”
“And would that really be so terrible?”
“I foolishly allowed myself to think maybe it wouldn’t. But yes, it would. At least for now. This fiasco with the order…it was totally my fault because I was focused on you rather than on what was important.”
Hurt-and dammit, anger-slapped him. “Gee, thanks.”
She shook her head. “I’m sorry, that sounded bad.”
“I don’t think there’d be a way to make it sound good.”
She pressed her lips together, then shook her head. “No, I suppose not. The bottom line is that I don’t have the time or energy to devote to a relationship now. By doing so, I nearly caused irreparable harm to my business and at this point I can’t afford that.”
“Everyone makes mistakes, Toni.”
“Yes. And my first one was allowing a one-night stand to continue for more than one night.”
She couldn’t have cut him more effectively if she’d plunged a knife into his chest. But that wound also pushed his anger closer to the surface. Anger at himself for not being able just to walk away. And at her, for not giving them, him, a fair chance.
“You’re blaming me for this order screwup?”
“No. I’m blaming myself. For allowing myself to-”
“To what? Feel? Care? Get involved?”
She pressed her lips together then gave a tight nod. “Yes. I don’t want…this. Whatever it is that’s happened between us.”
“Then what, exactly, do you want?”
“For my business to succeed. For the bank review to go well. Not to lose everything I’ve worked so hard for.”
“What about other than your business? What do you want for you? Your life outside Blooming Pails?”
His question clearly brought her up short. She blinked, hesitated, then frowned, and he wished like hell he knew what she was thinking. Finally, she said, “For right now I don’t have a life outside Blooming Pails. I failed at my last career and I’ll be damned if I’ll fail at this one.”
“You didn’t fail at being a firefighter, Toni. Firefighting failed you.”
“Maybe. But I still feel as if I have something to prove. To myself. That I can be successful on my
own. And to my family, who, as I told you, in spite of their love for me, on some level wants me to fail here so I’ll come home to them and the family business. Which I refuse to do. Which means I can’t afford any more mistakes. Or distractions. Which means there can’t be any more me and you. It’s too much. Too fast. Too soon.”
He pulled in a slow breath, then said quietly, “You know, I wasn’t looking for this, either. But I’m willing to play the hand I was dealt here. I’m willing to make the time to find a way to make this work.”
“Which is where we differ, because for right now, I’m not willing. I just can’t.”
A muscle ticked in his clenched jaw. “You mean you won’t.”
“All right, I won’t. I have too much at stake, too much riding on the success of my business. The bank review is only three months away. I need to keep my priorities straight. This mess…” she waved her hand to encompass the multitude of arrangements she was working on “…happened because I didn’t.”
“So you turn off your feelings, just like that,” he said, his voice tight. “Or are you prepared to look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t have any for me?”
Her already pale face went a shade whiter, and finally something flickered in her eyes. But instead of the warmth and caring he’d hoped to see, it was regret. “I…Of course I like you. You’re…a great guy.”
He stood frozen in place. “But…?”
“But the timing isn’t right for me. I’m sorry, but I can’t be with you, with anyone, right now.”
“Not right now?” His anger and frustration came through in his clipped words. “Then when, Toni? When will it be convenient for you?”
“I-I don’t know. I need time-”
“How much time? Two weeks? A month? Three months? After the bank review? Or will you tack on a few more months after that?
Resentment flashed in her eyes. “You’re pressuring me.”
“Maybe you need to be pressured.”
