We ended the call. For several seconds, I sat there, staring at my phone. I was grinning like a fool. I shouldn’t feel this damn excited about bringing Blossom to my beach house. Yet, I couldn’t erase this feeling.
I couldn’t ease it.
I couldn’t turn it off.
I was so far gone for this woman that I had to force myself to finish eating and not pull up her social media feed again to see if she’d posted anything since I’d last checked. After eating breakfast, I cleaned up my dishes and then headed to my office to answer a few emails.
I had a couple of emails from Julisa and my cousin at the Cattaneo-DeLuca casino that needed a response. Nothing too pressing. The team there was handling things well in myabsence. Once work was done, I loaded my laundry in the dryer, then got dressed.
I never obsessed over clothing. Today I did. Today, it took me nearly an hour to decide on something to wear. Why? Because I was stopping by Blossoms and Vines before heading over to check on Marcel.
I needed to see her, the real her. Not a profile picture. Last night, I’d thought long and hard, searching for an excuse to visit her. Without Monique as the middle person, I would look foolish going into a floral shop.
Then it hit me. I could buy Marcel some flowers. Since he wasn’t ready to venture away from home yet, I could bring him things from outside. Flowers were the perfect gift for him. Even if they weren’t, they would be today.
Eventually, I decided on khaki shorts, a white polo shirt, and white tennis shoes. No hat. I wanted her to see my face. Adjusting my glasses, I stared at my reflection in the mirror and smiled. I was doing that a lot lately... smiling for no fucking reason. Well, I had a reason.
Juliet.
Blossom.
Dressed, I grabbed my keys and phone, then left the house. The drive to the florist felt like it took forever. Why were there so many damn cars on the road? The city of Biloxi was bustling today.
Relief hit me when I made it to the shop. There weren’t many cars in the parking lot of this strip. I hoped that meant shewas alone. I damn sure hoped the cashier from last time wasn’t working.
I sat in my car, staring at the door, nervous to go in. I really needed to get my shit together. Why was I so damn nervous? She was just a woman. What was I saying? There was no such thing asjusta woman.
Blossom, the ladies from the Curvy Wives Club, and even the DeLuca women were showing me that women were not simple at all. My view of women had been clouded for too long, thanks to my mother and women who ran in the circles I tried to avoid.
Those women were simple, jaded. But not all women were like them. Especially not my Blossom. She was a woman with a brilliant mind and a love for flowers. A woman who’d spent her days hacking me and her nights making me cum as she touched herself.
I swallowed, shoving those thoughts out of my head. I couldn’t go in there with a hard-on and make her think I was a complete perv. Then again, she had seen my cock already. I wondered if she’d pictured me naked the last time I was in her shop.
I smirked. She probably had. Perhaps that was what made her so nervous once the initial shock of seeing me had worn off that day. I wondered if she’d be just as shocked when she saw me today.
It was time to find out. Exiting my vehicle, I locked the door behind me and headed toward Blossoms and Vines. I entered the floral shop, and the first thing I noticed was the young light-skinned woman working the register.
She had brown freckles peppered across the bridge of her nose, and long, curly hair that dropped to her shoulders.
“Welcome to Blossoms and...” she started before her hazel eyes landed on me. Then she swallowed. Looking nervous, she finished with, “And Vines. Please let me... uh, know if you need help with anything.”
She forced a smile. Though she seemed a bit skittish, at least she wasn’t rude like the cashier who was here the last time I came. I nodded. My gaze swept the store, searching for the woman I was desperate to see.
My hope soared when a door at the back of the shop opened. Outstepped the woman from my dreams, Blossom Brooks, a vision in a pink ankle-length dress that clung to her curves in ways that made my mouth water.
I forced my gaze up to her face. If I let my eyes roam over her body the way they wanted to, I’d look like the kind of creep who needed to be banned from flower shops. So, I looked into her eyes instead. That wasn’t much safer.
Her gaze met mine and nearly stole my breath. If she wanted it, she could have it. From now on, she could be my oxygen. For a split second, surprise flared in her eyes. Then it was gone. If I hadn’t been watching her closely, I might’ve missed it.
“Mr. Cattaneo,” she greeted politely.
Mr. Cattaneo.Not Rome. Not Romeo. Definitely not lover. Yet, those were the things I wanted this woman to call me.
“Blossom,” I greeted, liking the way her name felt on my tongue.
“Did Monique send you in for something?” she asked.
“Oh, uh...” I rubbed the back of my neck, nervous energy forcing me to do something with my hands. “No. I’m here for myself.”
