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Chapter Three
Jaime
I’m still staring out the front door, even after the taillights on the large truck have long disappeared. I’ve never felt anything like it. A connection to the way his eyes roamed my body, the way his touch unearthed me. Even with Gavin, I’ve never felt such a deep, gut-check reaction to a man before.
Sure, his body was amazing. Even in a dark polo, pair of jeans, and work boots, I could tell he’s a man who takes pride in his physical appearance. Broad shoulders with a wide chest, trim, lean waist, and a powerful pair of tree trunk thighs. His hair was dark brown with just enough length to run your fingers through it. He’s a deadly combination of authority and sexuality. And let’s not get into the impressive bulge in his pants that I tried my damnedest to ignore. Holy hell, that man was walking sex.
And that’s not even including his eyes. Of course, those deep brown eyes were the first thing I noticed when he stepped into my sister’s flower shop at the end of my very first day. Eyes that seemed to devour me inch by inch as they perused and consumed my entire body, lighting me up like the Fourth of July.
Then there’s the smile. The one that promised dirty, wicked things with each smirk, each grin he awarded me. It was a beautiful smile that captivated me and left me ready to throw caution to the wind and rip off his clothes.
Who hits on a woman while he’s buying flowers for another?
A player, that’s who.
But why are players always so friggin’ hot?
Can’t there, for once, be a hot normal guy? One who wants a steady girlfriend, who wants to buy her flowers just because, who wants to get married and settle down? My thoughts instantly drift to Gavin. He was gorgeous, smart, and charming. And I thought he wanted to settle down. Hell, he put a damn ring on my finger, didn’t he? But in the end, he walked away without so much as a backwards glance, leaving me in a pile of unusable wedding gifts and satin.
A noise pulls me from my thoughts. “Jaime, are you all right?” Payton asks behind me.
“Yeah, sure. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Uh, maybe because I’ve been talking to you for two minutes and you haven’t so much as acknowledged me.”
“Oh, sorry. I was just lost in thought,” I respond, turning and looking once more out the front door.
“I’m so sorry it took me so long to make that delivery. The residents were so excited about the lilies that I couldn’t get out the door,” she says.
Payton donates table centerpieces each week to the residents of Jupiter Bay Nursing Home. When she opened Blossoms and Blooms, her accountant advised her that donations would help accrue deductions. It’s also a great way to advertise since she includes the shop logo and phone number on every arrangement. And Payton doesn’t skimp on her arrangements either. While some shops may use carnations and daisies, my sister prides herself on delivering cheerful, bold arrangements that are sure to brighten the day of each resident.
“It’s okay,” I mumble as I head back to finish cleaning the counter. You know, the task I was working on when Mr. Drop Your Panties entered the place?
“You didn’t have any trouble? I know it’s your first day and all.”
I shake my head in answer, my thoughts returning to the last customer of the day. One that I don’t plan to think about once I leave work. The same one I don’t plan on telling my sister about either. Each Summer sister has a knack for getting the goods from the others. I know she’ll start the inquisition, and I’ll end up spilling all the dirty details.
If there really were dirty details.
“Oh, you had a customer after closing?” she asks.
Crap.
Turning to face the firing squad, I notice she’s looking at the time and date stamp on the top of the receipt. Obviously, I didn’t think of that. Do you think she’ll buy that the time stamp is off?
“Yeah, we had a customer come in and want something from the case. I figured since it was already made up and he had cash, it would be alright.”
“He?” she asks, a perfectly manicured eyebrow shooting heavenward.
“Umm, yeah. I hope that’s okay that I sold him the arrangement.”
“Of course it’s okay. I never want to turn down business. You said he paid with cash? Was he cute?” she asks, scrunching up her pert little nose.
“Umm, yeah, well, I guess. I mean he wasn’t ugly or anything. Just some guy. Whatever.”
She stares back at me, dark green eyes accessing me, and all I can do is hold her gaze even though I’m dying to look away. The look she gives me reminds me of Grandma. She has this innate ability to see right through you. It was torture when we were teenagers.
“Some guy. Whatever. Hmmmm.” She turns away, but not before I catch sight of a grin.
