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“Busy is good,” Addy murmured her standard reply.
“Says the owner,” Shelia said using her droll voice. It was one Addy was well-acquainted because Shelia lived for sarcasm, biting irony, and fuzzy kittens. The latter she wasn’t droll about, merely passionate.
“You like eating, right?”
Shelia looked down at her lush figure. “What do you think?”
The topic Addy had brought up weeks ago about Shelia buying into the shop sat fat between them. Fleur De Lis floral had been Addy’s life, something she’d worked hard to buy from her Aunt Flora after the older woman had retired. Addy had opened the business to a new market with her creative designs and couldn’t imagine letting even a small part of Fleur De Lis go, but her business had increased to such a degree that she couldn’t spend time doing the design work. She needed a partner, and Shelia needed a fresh start. But her friend was too afraid to commit. Too afraid to hope that she could have something for herself.
Addy smiled. “I love the way you look, Shelia. Wish I had some of those dangerous curves. I’m a straight drive.”
“Eh, you do all right. I see the way Sam looks at you when he comes in for deliveries. If there were ranch dressing lying around, he’d dip you in it.”
Addy spun around. “Wait, the UPS guy? Ranch dressing?”
“Yeah, Sam. And everything is good dipped in ranch dressing. Before you eat it.”
“That’s trite, huh?”
“The dressing or Sam?”
“The cute UPS guy.”
Shelia raised eyebrows she’d penciled to perfection. “He looks pretty damn good in those shorts if you ask me. But I’m too old for him.”
“Bah.” Addy tilted her head. “His knees are nice, now that you mention it.”
Shelia’s robust laugh filled the shop as she scooped up the other boxes going to the chapel. “You know what they say about a man with sexy knees, don’t you?”
Addy made a face, bracing herself for the sexual innuendo sure to follow.
“Wears a lot of shorts.”
Addy rolled her eyes and went back to the arrangement.
“I’m outta here. You got the last delivery?” Shelia asked.
“Yes, and I can’t wait until Herbert is back. I hate knocking on strangers’ doors.”
“I know you do, hon. You going to meeting tonight? I’ll be there.” Shelia paused, her dark eyes softening. Shelia wore a caftan-like shirt and denim stretch pants accessorized with three gold chains around her broad neck. Shelia called her look “NOLA funk,” and Addy couldn’t imagine her friend and employee without a little bling. But as loud, sarcastic, and bossy as Shelia was, Addy knew her to be the kindest of women, hence the love for the kittens she rescued and helped place in good homes for the past few years.
Shelia was a cat’s best friend, a kitten angel, and homeless pet savior rolled into one.
But Addy wasn’t the type to save things. Never felt compelled to pull someone from the fire… most the time she tended her own fire, struggling to keep the flames of fear from consuming her. She wasn’t selfish, merely protective and cautious. So why had she agreed to help Lucas?
She knew. Something in his tone, his manner, his damned dented pride pulled her toward him rather than away. And therewasthat weird attraction thing between them.
She knew that he knew that she’d been naked beneath that robe… only because he kept giving her that look. The hungry one. The one she sometimes dreamed about but also feared. God, she was effed up.
But still. She wanted that zip, zing, and zap.
“Actually I’m having company tonight,” Addy grinned, enjoying stringing her friend along.
Shelia turned, her thinly drawn brows settling into a straight line as she eyeballed her. “Oh?”
“Yes, a big hunk of a man.”
“You watching300again? Or maybe something with the Rock?”
