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“What is it you propose? We . . . what?” She wiggled her eyebrows and in a mocking tone said, “Fool around?” She smiled, but not in a humorous way. “Then what? We’d work together? Be friends? Forget that there isn’t this competition between us and we really want each other gone?”
“Actually, working together would benefit you more than me.” There were several things he wanted to address from her last statement, but he’d start there. “In a small town, personal relationships matter. Everyone has worked with me, knows me. That goes a long way around here.”
He looked at her lips, thinking of how good they must feel. How badly he wanted to taste them. How much he was kicking himself for not doing so earlier. Which brought him to his next point. “And no, we wouldn’t fool around, then be friends. I’d fuck you until you moaned my name, make you come over and over until you couldn’t take it anymore. Oh, and the competition would absolutely not be forgotten.”
That lush mouth he’d been thinking about parted on a shocked breath. She stood up, making her tight body brush against his, and faced him.
“You don’t sugarcoat anything, do you?”
He really wanted to tell her he’d happily sugarcoat her, but instead he went with, “I like to make things clear up front, especially when it comes to building expectations. But it’s always understood that I deliver on what I promise. That’s just good business.”
He winked.
She huffed.
“I don’t think I’ll have any problem building personal relationships with customers.”
He arched a brow. “Oh, really? Then why was Russ Paxton talking to me about backing out of the gravel order he has coming in from us? He gets gravel every quarter. That’s a large chunk of steady income for the business, all because he’s not sure about dealing with you.”
“You mean Gandalf over there?”
Jake nodded. “He owns Paxton Landscaping and is the largest business in four counties. He’s also one of our biggest customers.” He leaned in a little until her breasts pressed against his chest and he had her sandwiched between his body and the edge of the table. “Still certain about your interpersonal skills?”
She glanced over his shoulder in the direction of Russ, and judging by those wide brown eyes, no, she wasn’t certain.
“I don’t want to lose customers,” she said quietly. So quietly, in fact, Jake wasn’t sure she was aware she’d said it out loud. Did she actually care about the business? “What would I have to do to”—she flicked her wrist, motioning to the expanse of the bar—“fit in better?”
“Well . . .” He shifted his hips, causing his hard cock to drag across her flat stomach. The little moan she gave was the green light he was looking for. She could deny it all she wanted, but want him she did. “You and me showing a unified front would be a start.”
She nodded, her eyes staring at his mouth. “Unified front?”
“I’d be happy to help you. Just say the word.”
Her eyes flashed with something dark and hot. “Help me personally or professionally?”
He grinned. “Both. We can start by talking over dinner tomorrow.” He was trying really hard to be a gentleman and at least feed her, talk to her, and have a nice evening with her before doing what he really wanted to do, which was hit his knees and bury his face between those slick thighs of hers.
She glanced down at where their lower halves met. Their bodies knew exactly what to do. He just needed a little bit of privacy and a hard surface and he’d be happy to swap pent-up aggression for sex with Miss Baughman. He glanced at the table right behind her and was instantly reevaluating how necessary privacy was.
Trailing her finger along his belt, she rose just enough to brush her lips against his and whispered, “You’re forgetting something, Jacob . . . I’m not going to date you. And I think I can handle both my needs on my own.”
Jake’s eyes snapped open, but she had already stepped around him and was heading out the door.
“I never said anything about dating,” he called after her.
Laura was damn near running in her last pair of heels, scuffing them to hell, down the long dirt road that led to her camper.
Yes, she had driven, but it was only a mile away and she’d had a couple of drinks. She didn’t want to risk anything the way her head was feeling. Which was more from Jake than from the alcohol, but still. She needed the air.
The night breeze was cold, but it did nothing to stifle the heat in her blood or on her skin. She’d almost kissed Jacob Lock! Actually, she’d almost done a lot more than that. She had been ready to hop up on the table, spread her legs, and take him up on his offer.
The man was annoying and getting under her skin in more ways that she’d like. He was not the shy boy she remembered. He was all man. Spoke, walked, and smelled like one. Like sex. Because the more time she’d spent around him—in town, even—the more she was wondering what was happening. But her goal wouldn’t change. The flower shop mattered. Mattered to her. Mattered to her mother once upon a time. And it was all she had left of her. She would not only make this place her home, she’d make it a success.
First she just needed to get out of these first twenty-four hours. Emotions were weighing hard. Like she could feel the pressure of all these internal questions, fears, and insecurities surrounding her like a heavy blanket, humming with building tension.
Her head was in shambles and her heart was aching. She’d give just about anything to take out some aggression on something . . . or someone.
Those pieces of her life she was trying to round up were slipping between her fingers. How could one person hurt her feelings, then turn her on, then make her feel like a part of his team, all in one conversation?
