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It wasn’t until two that things slowed down, and I could finish up in the back. The bell of the door swung open with another customer. I smiled softly and grabbed the vase of lilacs to put next to the peonies.
But when I rounded the corner, it wasn’t just any customer. He stood by the counter, unseeingly tall amidst the flowers. The sunshine from the skylight fell right onto him, setting his hair aflame under the light, showing me the rigid lines of his muscles visible under the thin linen shirt. His thighs were thick and strong, his ass was perfect in those pants. My stomach clenched at the memory of him spreading my legs apart with those thighs. He had his hands in his pockets, the veins of his forearm leading right down to the seam of his pants. Why did he have to be so perfect? If he wasn’t so God damned gorgeous, I don’t think I would be in this much trouble.
It all happened in seconds. I rounded the corner, my breath caught in my throat as I gasped; my eyes met his. Those smoldering green emeralds met mine with an intensity that made my knees weak, and then the vase flew out of my hands and fell to a shattered mess on the ground.
“Shit!” I squealed jumping back so no glass would get on me.
I scrambled for the dust pan behind the counter, tucking my hair behind my ear.
“Let me help you.” He held out his hand, and I forced myself not to look up, but I did.
My chest was constricted, almost no air could get through. I wanted to say hell no, you can’t help me. I don’t want your grimy, cheating help. He didn’t cheat on me, but it was still a shitty thing to do.
“I’m fine.” I shoved my way past him and started brushing up the glass on my hands and knees.
He sighed and stepped over the broken glass anyway, picking up the lilacs for me. He set them on the counter and I felt him staring down at me as I swept some stuff up, and then trashed it. When I was done, I ignored him as I went to wash my hands. Stop being unprofessional, this is your job.
I forced myself to calm down and treat him like any other person. His moral capacity is none of my business.
“How can I help you?” I appeared back at the counter, clearing my throat to get his attention.
He turned to face me, and I had to look past him to ignore those eyes. They made me want to get down on my knee and suck him off right here, then beg him to take me against the desk. Before I knew it, I was flushed and rubbing my knees to relieve the pressure that I let slip through me.
“I’m Tristan Cox. I had a meeting with you at noon for a wedding arrangement.” His deep even voice washed over me in familiarity. Did he even remember me?
He was looking at me, and elsewhere, but I couldn’t tell that he could recognize me at all.
“I was supposed to meet with a Levi.” I replied, my voice low and unbecoming. I cleared my throat, hoping the next time I spoke, I wouldn’t sound so prepubescent.
“Right. That’s my friend. Anyway, you didn’t show up so that’s why I called you.”
“I got your messages.” I understood that I had probably wasted his time and pissed him off, but he was pretty much yelling at me in those messages. He had no idea why I wasn’t there, so I didn’t think he had to be quite so harsh.
“Good, so you know I am in a little bit of a bind here.” His jaw was tight, and his eyes narrowed as he looked down at me. I didn’t remember him being this much of an asshole that night. It seemed he was really going to act like he didn’t know me.
Well, two can play at that game.
“Yeah. The good selection isn’t here. It’s just down the highway.” I explained.
“You have a car?” he asked. I shook my head.
“Ride with me then, I don’t have all day.”
He snapped. It made me frown, but I followed him anyway. Why did I do that?
Chapter Sixteen
Tristan
If I acknowledged it was her, we wouldn’t get any work done.
As soon as I saw her in those tight pants, hugging her ass and every inch of her curves, with that loose shirt on, I was having trouble just staying upright. I told my eyes to stop wandering, but all I wanted to do was bend her over this table, taste her sweet pussy and then pound it until she was screaming.
But I had no idea why she was being so hostile to me. It was obvious she had recognized me because she had dropped a fucking vase for crying out loud. One she wouldn’t let me help her clean up. I am very observant, I know she moved the lilacs from the front since this morning. I told her they were my favorite, she doesn’t seem forgetful, just a little unprofessional. I hadn’t done anything to her and she was treating me like flattened gum on the bottom of shoe.
The ride was uncomfortably silent to the floral shop in the city. I guess she had partnered with them for bigger orders. I wanted to break the silence so many times, but I was afraid she would scream at me or something. She was clenching her hands so hard; the color was fading.
“Is something bothering you?” I finally asked. I couldn’t take it, I was being attacked in secret or something. Did I look at her wrong? Some women can be sensitive about that. But we had already been very, very acquainted with each other so I doubt there was anywhere I could look that would actually bother her.
