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Chapter 1
Lisa
The smell of freshly brewed coffee fills my nose, making my mouth water and my skin prickle. On my way to the coffee bar in the floral shop I inherited from my parents, I hear a ding from my computer telling me that I have a message.
One dozen red roses, delivered to Frank Vietti, 201 Jasmine Ave., Queens, New York. ASAP.
My heart racing, a sexy grin curves my lips. “ASAP is it, Mr. Too Hot to be Human Vietti?” Grabbing a dozen of my freshest red roses, I bundle them with some baby’s breath, wrap the whole thing in white tissue paper, and then hurry to get the order to the man who lives next door.
My neighbor—tall, muscles galore, and dark in so many ways—sets my blood ablaze every time I think about him.
From his shoulder-length dark waves to his sultry eyes, the color of a midnight sky, his vibe is what I like to call sinister-sexy. It gives him an edge that says, “Run.”
Not that I listen to the inner voice telling me he’s bad in ways I can’t even imagine, and so I ignore anything my inner voice says about the man who moved in next door to me a few months ago.
Well, kind of, anyway.
Up until my parents’ deaths, my life has been pretty sheltered. But since they passed and I took over the floral shop, I’ve blossomed. Or rather, I would like to blossom.
And under the firm touch I’m sure Frank has, I think I could blossom in ways that would defy imagination.
Shivering with excitement, I turn the open sign to closed, then shut and lock the door. My walk has a certain snap to it as I saunter down the sidewalk on my way to Frank’s little house next door.
The long hearse he drives as an undertaker fills the entire driveway. Sure, being an undertaker is a pretty creepy way to make a living, but it’s nothing I can’t get past.
One of my main gigs is doing the flowers for funerals, so I’m no stranger to dealing with the deceased. In fact, I think our mutual dealings with the dead would make us the perfect couple.
Plus, Frank could send more business from the funeral home my way. Bonus for me!
I take a deep breath as I head up the small walk lined with white lilies. “Okay, chill out, Lisa. You don’t want to come off weird.”
We’ve had only a handful of interactions, and I’ve pretty much made a fool of myself each time as I can’t seem to get my eyes to move away from the man’s sculpted body.
I have to try to maintain eye contact and not allow them to roam over him, devouring every inch as if I’m starving for his touch.
Before I even get to the door, it opens, and his tall, muscular frame blocks the light coming from within. “Hey,” he says.
“Hey.” I hold out the bouquet, keeping my eyes locked on his. “Someone ordered these for you. A secret admirer, I think.”
He doesn’t give the flowers a second look but stares into my eyes. “Maybe you’re that secret admirer.”
“My admiration for you is no secret.” I can’t believe I even said that!
The sultriness in his expression turns to a smile. A sense of humor is something I haven’t seen in him before.
“You should be careful who you admire, my little dandelion. One so delicate can be blown away by even the gentlest breeze if she’s not careful.”
He can blow me any way he’d like to. I’d gladly fall to pieces and disperse on the wind for this man.
“Are you suggesting that I’m as weak as a little flower?” I inhale deeply and straighten my back, hoping to make my breasts jut out.
He arches a dark brow, and his grin grows bigger. “Weak?” He shakes his head. “I said delicate, not weak. There’s a difference.”
I don’t agree. “I see weak and delicate as one and the same.”
“Well, you’re wrong.” His grin disappears, and darkness clouds his already dark eyes.
“You’re presumptuous.” I smile to soften the jab at his character. “Lucky for you, I like that in a man.” Holding the bouquet out, I turn it back and forth. “Do you like the flowers?”
