AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Hello? Yeah, Genevieve Summers here.” She hooked a thumb at herself and the smile she flashed had less warmth in it than an iceberg.
“You’re in here in your fancy offices deciding the fates of others over a nice cup of coffee.” She paused, eyes narrowed. “Or tea. While the rest of us are worried sick at the bomb you just dropped in our laps. Along with your boss, here,” those hard eyes turned on him. “Did you tell the rest of the shops personally, Mr. Morgan, or was I the only special one?”
“Just you,” he offered and his words had the effect he wanted.
She turned to him with a wicked glare that made him think facing a firing squad would be easier and healthier for his future.
All the board members looked on through the connection, shock coloring their otherwise pale cheeks, and it took a lot of effort to school his expression. Below the TV stood a large oak table that had seen better days filled with a handful of blueprints the architect dropped off while he was out. He followed her gaze andcringed when she walked up and fingered the edges of one in particular.
She turned that fire on him again. “This?” Her gaze danced between the prints and him. You want to put a fucking hockey rink where Blossoms is? Why? You have a lake not even a hundred yards from where we are now that serves as a great ice rink all winter long and all the fresh air a kid could want or need.” She pointed out the large window to his left that opened to a beautiful view of Pinegrove Lake.
He couldn’t argue the point.
This place had it all. Picturesque view. Pine tree-lined shores with the mandatory snow-tipped mountain backdrop. And the memories to make each of those features a permanent part of his life. Like the woman standing in front of him. He’d been all over the world and a better view he hadn’t found.
And warm-hearted people for the most part, too. Genevieve didn’t do such a good job of proving that at the moment with her outburst of emotions.
Not a single tear flashed in her eyes as she gaped at the plans. The girl he remembered got loud when she got mad. For her, tears were a sign of weakness, and Ms. Genevieve Summers never showed a hint of vulnerability when a battle rose on the horizon. No, his girl, only showed emotions when you had her spread wide, screaming and cumming. A point he needed to get out of his mind, but she was making it damn hard. Hell, the longer she let loose, the harder his dick became.
“How could you? I thought you used to love this town, Whiskey?” She threw her hands wide, knocking over a glass perched on the corner of the table.
Water splashed across the prints before spilling to the floor and it didn’t look like she gave a fuck one way or another.
“It’s about progress.” He navigated around his desk and took her hand in his. For a moment she didn’t pull away. She just stood there like she expected him to be her knight and slay all the damn dragons threatening her home.
And he wished he could. Only he was one of those dragons.
He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and rested his hand on her shoulder. Damn, he was dying for her. She, on the other hand, only gawked at him like he’d grown horns and a tail. “I’m sorry, Genevieve. Like I said. There will be room for a flower shop in the new plans. Something modern and hip to keep up with the times and new growth the small town has seen recently. It’s only going to get bigger.”
“Since when does Pinegrove need hip? Why do you think people come here? It’s not for more of the same they see in their own towns or big cities. They come to enjoy our quaintness, beautiful country scenery and activities. Like the flower show. Now that won’t happen. Hundreds of visitors are already arriving to see all the flowers and enter contests. Are you going to be the one to tell Ms. Havershaw she has to hold off on the bloom of her Titan Arum? You know, the flower that blooms only once every decade? Oh, but wait. That’s not really possible.”
Whiskey slid her an ‘are you serious’look. “I’m not too sure anyone will want to get too close to that thing anyway. My mom liked to dabble in exotic flowers. If memory serves, isn’t that the stinky flower?” Unfond memories scrunched his face.
“You’re missing the damn point, Whiskey Morgan.”
“Saying my name like you want to drive darts into it over a cold pint won’t change the plans, Genevieve. The mayor is behind this and so is the city’s council. The only way this won’t go through is if you can claim it as a historical landmark which takes months. Or, convince the board the current establishment can provide the same level of profits the new construction would turn.”
She paused and he could practically see the wheels turning in her head. He’d never regretted his last words more than he did at that moment. Like she’d personally taken them as a challenge.
“The point is,” Genevieve continued in a slower, more controlled tone. “Ms. Havershaw will have to disassemble the greenhouse she’s taken a decade to build and nurture next to our shop. It’s beautiful, by the way.”
Her voice died a little and it killed him to see the fire in her diminish.
“Don’t you remember what you loved about this town, Whiskey? Or have you been gone so long you don’t remember the summer swims in the lake and special celebrations? The way everyone comes together over the community barbecues this time of year.”
Stubborn little minx. He narrowed his eyes at her. “Oh, I remember, sweetheart. I remember everything,” he said gruffly. He backed her up until she was pinned between him and the large wooden desk at her back. Fuck the board members. Let them look.
“I remember, that sweet, fuckable, and might I add naked ass, spread out on the banks of the lake after we spent hoursswimming. I remember the way the sun loved your skin the way I loved your juices coating my dick.”
“Whiskey,” she breathed out, eyes wild with her own set of memories.
“I remember making love to you long after the moon came out and then letting you go whenyoudecided you couldn’t handle living beside me as my wife. All because it came with a set of rules we both had to follow. So, don’t throw that at me, baby. Not unless you’re ready for everything else I have to say on the matter.”
“Go ahead.” She poked a finger into his chest.
He curled his fingers around a thick lock of hair before brushing it aside and stepping in. “You don’t want what I have to say heard by others. Believe me,” he said in a low voice.
From the corner of his eye, he saw her flinch.
