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Chantal’s eyes lit up. “You did?”
“Yes, I was leaning against the car, talking to Stephen at the time.”
Chantal’s eyes narrowed and lips curved downward in a scowl. “Why?”
“He showed up at Shenanigans.” Lexi shook her head and softened her smile, “Don’t look like that. I suggested he bring the girls.”
“And how did it come for Mary to catch you and Stephen canoodling?”
“We weren’t canoodling.” Lexi frowned, trying to wipe the memory out of her mind. She couldn’t canoodle with anyone. The last thing she needed was her mother to see Lexi get sidetracked—again.
“So why did Stephen send over some more of those orchids you like? The dancing ones?” Excitement coursed through Lexi’s veins. She looked around eagerly, but everything in the store was the same. “They’re in your office,” Chantal said drily.
“What’s on the schedule today?”
A vase filled with long yellow orchids sat in the center of Lexi’s desk. She walked around to her chair and glanced at the note, a thank-you card for a lovely evening. Lexi pushed it back into the envelope and listened to Chantal rattle off the list of appointments she needed to get through today, including several debutante dress fittings for the end of the month. At noon, she had a consultation with a future bride and her parents, and then later when school released, she’d have a pageant workshop, which ended with an hour of private lessons with Philly. A smile touched her lips at the thought of seeing Stephen again. Did he still feel the need to be present for every session?
Chantal left Lexi to greet the deliveryman they’d both spied from the mirror in her office, leaving Lexi to the set of designs she wanted to show the future bride. Some were her own designs and some were from other designers. She’d be a fool to think Grits and Glam Gowns would survive without buying from other sellers. After about an hour of thumbing through dresses, she met with the Keaton family upstairs in the loft.
Emily Keaton grew up in Southwood and had attended Southwood High School with her now-fiancé, Sam Marshall. Lexi was familiar with the Marshalls, thanks to their affiliation with the country club her parents belonged to when she was a kid. Lexi and her two best friends, Rosalind and Shannon, used to spend their summers floating on the blue water of the Olympic-style pool. Sam and some of his friends had teased them for being stuck-up, which amused Lexi, considering he belonged to the same club. Emily seemed like a nice enough girl, determined even to shop locally, despite her mother’s pout. Mrs. Keaton didn’t care for Lexi, possibly because of her modeling history or because she was offended Emily had opted not to wear the hand-me-down family dress.
On her way downstairs the clamor of hammers grew louder than when she’d met with the Keatons. Curiosity got the best of her. Had Stephen already hired a crew? Odd, how her heart did not ache as much as she expected. She headed down the steps from the loft and spied Andrew helping a girl decide between a peach and a pink dress. Lexi slunk toward the front door, and as the bells exposed her position, she heard Andrew call out to her. Intent on finding out what Stephen was up to, she slipped outside.
The afternoon sun briefly blinded Lexi. She covered her eyes with her hand and walked a few paces. Had she been able to expand into the bakery, she had planned on keeping the door where it was, with a walkway through her kitchenette toward the boutique and a pageant room separate from the area for the patrons buying dresses. Lexi swallowed down her animosity and found her beauty-pageant smile as she pushed the door open. The vision waiting for her made her mouth drop.
It wasn’t the torn-out bakery case or the ripped-up black-and-white floors or the disappearance of the tables and chairs. What dried her mouth was the sight of Stephen standing in front of a scaffold, sawing away at a piece of wood. A pencil dangled from his lips. He wore a pair of dark denim jeans, which sagged just enough to show off the waistband of his boxer briefs. She wasn’t sure how long she stood in the doorway without him noticing, but she enjoyed the view while she could. Biceps rippled with each powerful stroke of the saw. Her fingers itched to run along each rung of his abdominal muscles, including the V shape disappearing into his pants.
/> “Like what you see?”
Lexi almost jumped out of her skin at the deep voice pressing against her earlobe. Stephen glanced up to wave with his free hand. Nate Reyes stepped out from behind Lexi. The sun caught his deep green eyes, and she swore they twinkled against the lighting.
“What?” Lexi stammered.
“The bakery doesn’t look anything like it did before.” Nate beamed. “Does it?”
“Oh,” she said over her beating heart. “Right, I would have never guessed this place was a bakery. When did all of this get done?”
Nate placed his hand in the middle of her back and guided her farther inside. “I had some free time yesterday,” he said, giving his brother a look. “We’re ahead of schedule.”
“My brother is a bit of a carpenter,” explained Stephen. He set his saw against the wall beside him and reached for his balled-up light blue crewneck T-shirt. “Were we making too much noise?”
Lexi blinked back her disappointment at his covered body. Nate brushed by Lexi. It was then she noticed he wore a pair of light blue jeans, and like his brother a moment ago, was shirtless. Nate Reyes was not the least bit modest and made no attempt to hide the massive tribal tattoo covering both shoulders. But when Stephen stepped in front of her, a set of butterflies fluttered in the pit of her belly.
“I came to say thank you for the flowers.”
Stephen stepped close, so close she shivered. He reached out with his hands and inspected her palms. “What? No banana pudding?”
“Funny.” Lexi pulled her hands away.
“What’s this about banana pudding?” asked Nate.
“Don’t worry about it,” Stephen called over his shoulder. He wrapped his arm protectively around Lexi’s lower back. “Nate, we’re going to lunch.”
The afternoon heat did not help the intense flame boiling inside Lexi. Once out on the street, she watched him glance around, contemplating which direction to go. She knew from the year she’d been at Grits and Glam Gowns that the deli across the street was filled with friends of her parents, which meant they’d report on her behavior to anyone in their circle. Lexi stepped out of Stephen’s hold and began walking from her building toward the park.
“You’re in luck,” she said, glancing to her left, where Stephen fell into step with her. “Today is Food Truck Tuesday. There’s a variety of places to grab something to eat.”
“Sounds good to me. I wanted to talk more about this weekend.”
