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He had the audacity to look stricken. Like this painedhim.
Arrogant bastard.
“Unavoidable? Really?” She spat the word out, sickened by its taste, and her belly grew hot. Her gaze remained fixed on his, intense and direct.
He gave a curt nod while the same grim expression from earlier played out in full force.
Good. He didn’t deserve to smile if she couldn’t either. And he didn’t look any happier than she felt. At least that was something to his credit.
“To be perfectly honest,” he shoved his hands into his pockets and looked her square in the eye. “I didn’t think you would be here when I delivered the news. When I saw you in the parking lot I debated coming back at another time. Then the dog, coffee and you happened all at once and well?—”
“And well, you can’t put the flower back on the stem once you cut it off.” Her mom’s saying came back to her with the realization of how true the words rang.
His brow arched and she waved him off.
“Never mind. So, let me get this straight. Are you giving my parents two weeks to find another place? To move three decades’ worth of roots? Do you have any idea what that will do to them?” She couldn’t believe the words though they came from her mouth like lead bricks.
He gave that irritating curt nod again, but she also caught a slight pain in his eyes. “Yes, Genevieve. Actually, I do. I’m sorry. Truly. I wish there was another way. I hate seeing you like this. Hate doing this to your family more.”
“Then don’t,” she countered.
His cell rang from the pocket of his suit jacket. With the way his eyes crinkled along the edges, he didn’t look forward to talking to whoever awaited him on the other end.
Good. Karma had his number.
“I have to go, Genevieve, but we can talk about it more tonight. I promise. I’m not done with you and I know you’re itching to take a big chunk out of my ass and I’m going to let you. But dinner first.” He reached for her hand and part of her wanted to slap him away. Maybe in some alternate universe, she would have done exactly that. But here, in her reality, she didn’t have the heart when he sounded so sincere. He moved in close reclaiming the few feet she’d put between them and tipped her chin up.
“Please say you’ll still have dinner with me. There’s so much more to tell you. I can show you the plans I have and maybe you can offer some input.”
She tipped her chin until their gazes locked. “Dinner isn’t some white flag and Blossom deserves better, Whiskey. There has to be some other way. How would it look if I go to dinner with you?”
“Like two friends catching up. And I’ve looked at this from all angles. No other way has been found. Remember this is my town, too.”
He tried for a smile but only managed a half grin. Whether he knew it or not the charm in that simple gesture almost blew the wind out of her anger-filled sail.
That sounded like a challenge to her.
She paused and canted her head to the side. “Friends.” She cast her eyes to the floor for a second to consider her words. “You know what, yes. Dinner tonight sounds like a good idea, after all.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Really? I thought I’d have to fight a little more for it.” He threw his hands up in defense when she crossed her arms over her chest. “Not that I’m complaining. ButI will say, I feel like I’ve walked into something I don’t fully understand.”
“Don’t be silly. Just two friends catching up.”
“As interesting as it would be to stay a while longer to dig the truth out of you, I have to go back to city hall for a meeting. The contractor just delivered the final sets of blueprints.”
He took a half step back and hesitated like he wanted to say something else but thought better of it.
Doubt and hesitancy replaced the stern boardroom look he’d worn for the past five minutes.
Damn stubborn man.
“It’s good seeing you again, Genevieve.” He leaned in, brushed his lips across her cheek then whispered, “And tasting you.”
Her womb clenched from the heat in his words. God help her, this man would end her.
Thirty seconds later the tiny bell over the front door sounded as he made his way out. The little jingle like a bell in a boxing ring to her ears.
“Game on, Whiskey Morgan. We’ll see how this goes.” Arguing might win a couple of matches, but she had a feeling she’d have to fight dirty if she wanted to save her parents’ flower shop and the other dozen shops that depended on this location. Uprooting didn’t happen overnight when you had decades in a certain location.
