No Flowers Required

by Cari Quinn

  “No arguments there.” He tucked a loose curl behind her ear and roamed his gaze over her face. “I want to help you. Will you let me?”

  Saying no would’ve been so easy. She had this. A lot of what he’d said she’d already considered, but she just hadn’t moved forward with it yet.

  Because she’d been wallowing. And he wouldn’t let her, not any longer.

  “I won’t step on your toes. I promise.” He slid his thumb down to stroke her lower lip. Her heartbeat stumbled from the heat in his eyes. “If you want me out, I’ll butt the hell out, okay?”

  She nodded before her stubborn brain had a chance to voice an objection. “Okay.”

  “Great.” He grinned. “Let’s get busy.”

  Her lips curved as he opened her spreadsheet program. His big arms seemed to dwarf her laptop, but he danced his fingers over the keys with the same skill he used on her body. “Promises, promises.”

  He slanted her another grin, his gaze still enticingly heated. “I always fulfill them.”

  They worked side-by-side for over an hour, setting up charts and graphs and a contact spreadsheet she couldn’t wait to fill in. He had a way around the program, and could generate fancy pie graphs with a few clicks. Having that visual, along with his low encouragement in her ear, helped make envisioning her plans a lot more fun. Plus on the screen they began to take real, tangible shape. Thanks to him.

  When his cell rang and he stepped into the front to take the call, she found herself eagerly inputting the information they’d discussed. Income projections, an actual line-by-line budget. She’d had no idea actually seeing everything in front of her would solidify her footing.

  She was so wrapped up in her work that she didn’t hear him return. “I’m sorry, but I gotta go.”

  “You do?” Disappointment came first, quick and overwhelming.

  “Yeah.” As she rose, he came up behind her and crowded in close with his big, toned body. “Make sure you eat something,” he said against her ear. He placed the cranberry-orange muffin she’d been salivating over all morning on a napkin and pressed a quick kiss against the side of her neck. “I’ll be back for lunch. Probably a late one.”

  “You will?” Her voice sounded shaky, very un-Alexa-like. The parroting thing she was doing was annoying too. But she couldn’t help it, not when his strong hips rotated against hers with the suggestion of things to come.

  Preferably she’d be coming too. Under his hands. Just under him, period.

  “Yes. I will.” Another kiss, more lingering this time. Inflaming her skin until she knew her cheeks had to be flushed with the havoc he created inside her with merely a skim of lips. “Have a good morning.”

  He left with the other bakery bags under his arm, making her wonder who would be getting his treats while she waited for him to come back.

  She closed her eyes and sucked in a lungful of air. God, get a grip.

  “Well, then.” Alexa opened her eyes to find her best friend studying her from the doorway. That she wore a shirt with grabby cat paws encircling her swollen belly didn’t diminish the stern set of her lips. “You slept with him last night, didn’t you?”

  She couldn’t stop her smug smile. “We didn’t sleep much.”

  “I just bet. He touched you like a guy does after he’s already been on the carnival rides and can’t wait to ride again. When were you going to tell me?”

  “Soon.” Alexa sighed. “Remember how I told you he went to get a part? Well, he got it and when he returned, he—” She broke off at Nellie’s snigger. “What?”

  “Slid the key in the lock? Slipped the notch into the groove? Inserted the meat in the bun?”

  “Ugh, stop it!” Alexa couldn’t help laughing. “Besides, he may have…slipped that particular notch a couple times.”

  “Uh-huh. You like him. I can see it all over your face,” Nellie said, sobering.

  Alexa pulled off a corner of the muffin. Smelled delicious. “If I didn’t, do you think I would’ve slept with him?”

  “No. You definitely wouldn’t be letting him help with the store if you didn’t. You also wouldn’t be glowing.”

  “Am not,” Alexa said, swallowing her bite of muffin. She immediately snagged another piece.

  “Are so.”

  Feeling bolstered by the sustenance, Alexa let a sly grin creep onto her face. “Okay, maybe I am, just a little. We had a good night last night.”

  “Deets, deets!” Nellie leaned forward expectantly. “How many positions are we talking here?”

  “It’s about quality, babe, not quantity.” Alexa flipped her hair over her shoulder. “Let’s just say we christened my couch and how.”

  Nellie’s eyes widened. “Really.”

  Alexa studied her friend while she nibbled on her muffin. “You look green. Spill.”

  “It’s nothing. Honestly. Just that…”

  “What?” Alexa demanded, fearing the worst.

  “Jake and I sort of had our first sexual, uh, encounter on that couch.”

  Alexa shrank back. “Seriously? On my couch?” Thank God she hadn’t known that before. It totally would’ve doused her arousal last night. Well, possibly.

  “It’s comfy.” Nellie shrugged, her pursed lips sliding into a smile. “Great memories. Glad to see it’s been good to you, too.”

  “Can we get back to work now?”

  “In a minute. Was it good for you, too?”

  “The muffin?” Alexa swallowed the cranberry that had lodged in her throat at Nellie’s couch-sex admission. “Oh yeah, the very best.”

  Grinning, Nellie picked up a spritz bottle of water. “Thought so.”

  …

  Dillon headed over to the donor house they were rehabbing on Spring Street and helped fill in on the roof for a missing crew member for a couple hours, then returned to the Rison to put the finishing touches on the flooring in the apartment down the hall from Alexa’s.

  After that he checked on some of the other things on his list. The AC system did have a leak, one he’d have to fix soon. In the meantime, more refrigerant kept the place bearable. The stopgap measure was a waste of money, but he didn’t have time to spare at the moment.

  When he couldn’t stall any longer, he took the baked goods out of the cooler in the back of his truck and headed over to Value Hardware.

  He took the back way, feeling like a thief as he slipped into the side service entrance. The last thing he needed was to get caught dropping off pastries to the enemy camp by Alexa or Nellie.

  See why this can’t work? Your family’s the enemy. Actually, you’re the enemy.

  “Dillon, how nice to see you.” His stepfather grabbed him into a giant bear hug on his way down the hallway to the offices. “What’s the occasion?”

  The back of his neck prickled. “Do I need a special occasion to come by and see my folks?”

  Truth was, he almost did. Minus his impromptu visit yesterday—which hadn’t been for the purpose of family bonding—his visits to the store were few and far between. Something he intended to change, starting now.

  “You don’t come by nearly enough to suit us, that’s all I know.” Raymond clapped him on the back and jerked a thumb at the bags Dillon carried. “What’s in those?”

  “I stopped by the bakery.”

  His stepfather grinned, his weathered face suddenly seeming years younger. He spent a lot of time out in the sunshine maintaining their family’s property, and his nut-brown skin showed it. “Almond longhorn?”

  “You know it.” Dillon smiled and pushed the bag at him. “There’s a muffin in there for Mom and a Danish for Cory, though I’m sure he won’t eat it.”

  “That boy won’t take a lunch to save his life.” Raymond shook his head. “He’s going to end up in intensive care if he doesn’t let up.”

  Dillon scratched his chest and remembered the evasive look on his brother’s face the day before when he’d asked about Melinda. Maybe Cory would be finding something—or someone—new to o
bsess about soon.

  Like you have?

  “He needs a woman,” Dillon muttered. He should know, shouldn’t he?

  He’d found one that he wanted to get to know a lot better, and not just physically. What he’d learned about Alexa so far barely scratched her alluring surface. But how long could he hang on to the teeter-totter he was balanced on? How long until he ran into the wrong person at the wrong time and they blew his cover?

  He never should’ve lied. Even with the acrimony between her and Cory, he’d had a better chance of convincing her he wasn’t like his shark of a brother at the beginning than he did now. Now she’d believe he’d been scheming all along, likely for nefarious purposes. She’d probably think he was a spy for Value Hardware, intent on filling her head with business ideas he hoped were primed to fail.

  “Speaking of women, have you found a date yet for the benefit?”

  Dillon barely suppressed a groan. Not that again. His stepfather didn’t tack on the word appropriate, but he heard it nonetheless. Problem was the dates he’d once considered more than adequate simply wouldn’t get the job done any longer. Those sorts of women couldn’t compare when he’d had the real thing and only craved more.

  “No, I don’t have a date,” he said under his breath, knowing that would pry the lid off a can of worms he didn’t want to touch.

  “Why didn’t you say so? You know Stanley Wren, my golfing buddy? His daughter’s just home from Yale. She’d be perfect.”

  Terrific. Filthy rich, educated in an elite school, and young too. There was a winning trifecta in Dillon’s book if he’d ever heard one. “I’m sure I can find someone.”

  “Well, if you can’t find someone suitable,” his stepfather winked, “just let me know and I’ll get it set up with Haviland.”

  “Haviland?” Dillon choked. “That’s a dish, not a person.”

  Raymond chuckled. “She’s lovely. You’d like her. Why don’t I give Stanley a call? You simply don’t have time to find— ”

  “No.” The sharpness of his answer made his stepfather do a double take. Damn, he needed to ease off. “I think I have someone in mind already,” he said, softer now.

  Did he ever. Now he just had to figure out how to keep her in his life long enough for her to agree to go with him.

  “Your choice, son. Let me know if you change your mind.”

  They talked for a few more minutes while they walked through the store. His stepfather insisted on showing him a new pair of loppers he said cut through tree limbs like hot butter, and Dillon found himself chatting with a couple about the environmental benefits of a push mower over a traditional electric one.

  By the time he swung by Cory’s office to take him the Danish, his mood had vastly improved even considering he was still pissed at his brother for making Alexa cry the night before. He knocked and opened the door to see what looked like Cory’s expensive Ming vase sailing through the air, hot on the heels of an ear-splitting screech, courtesy of Vicky. “God! You’re a complete ass.”

  Cory hurtled to his feet in time to catch the vase, though he fumbled it a bit before clutching the artifact to his chest. “Have you lost your mind?”

  “Yes, I have.” She snatched up her books, sailing past Dillon with barely a muttered hello. “Only an insane person would consider working with you.”

  “You contacted me,” Cory called after her, shaking his head and setting down the vase as if he couldn’t quite believe what had just happened. “You again,” he said, spotting Dillon.

  “Women trouble?” Dillon asked mildly, fighting a grin.

  Cory made a derisive sound in his throat. “Hardly. She’s still a girl. What is she, twenty-four? No wonder she’s such a hormonal wreck.”

  “You do realize that bringing up hormones in connection with a woman is reason enough to have your balls strung up as jewelry, right?”

  “Gonna go tattle?” Cory tossed back, placing his vase on the sideboard with all the care of an indulgent father cradling a newborn.

  “No. You’re on your own with Vick.” Dillon set the bakery bag on Cory’s desk. “Danish,” he said by way of explanation. “Eat something for a change.”

  “Aww. Bringing me sweets. I know you’re not trying to get into my pants, so what’s the occasion?”

  Dillon leaned forward and placed his hands on the blotter, leveling his gaze on Cory’s. Time to start laying it on the line. “Give Alexa some time.”

  Chapter Eight

  One of Cory’s dark brows winged up. “For what?”

  “For her to get her affairs in order at the store. I know you wanted to slide in Melinda,” he grinned when Cory’s jaw went tight, “but if you give me a chance to make this work with Alexa, I’ll get the place down the street ready for the yogurt shop. It’ll be even better than Alexa’s store when I’m done.”

  “Oh, really. Since when are you the wheeler and dealer in this family?”

  “Since it’s damn well time I step up and do my part.”

  “So you’re helping Alexa just for the good of the company. And possibly your dick.”

  “Believe what you want,” Dillon said easily, recognizing bitterness when he heard it. He also saw it written in the lines around Cory’s eyes and the shadows under his eyes. Damn, he was about to extinguish his candle completely, from the looks of it. “Are you sleeping at all these days?”

  “Somebody’s got to handle things around here now that Mom and Dad are pulling back.” Cory dropped in his chair and rolled up to his computer.

  “Yeah, well, I’m here. I’ll be here a lot more from now on,” he added when Cory shot him a dubious glance. “Just give me some room with Lex.”

  “Don’t you mean ‘a room’?”

  The juvenile joke would’ve made him roll his eyes, if he hadn’t known it was Cory’s attempt at putting another crack in the frost that had existed between them for years. As was digging out the cherry Danish Dillon had put on his desk, though he gave it a sniff when cherry smeared his fingers.

  Dillon chuckled. His older brother definitely had his fussbudget ways, but damn if he didn’t love the lug.

  “You’ve got time,” Cory said, not looking up from his pastry.

  “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

  “No thanks needed. It’s your company too, and I don’t even like fro-yo.” At Dillon’s grin, he waved his hand toward the door. “Don’t you have leaks to plug up? You’re screwing with the feng shui in here.” Then he winced. “Good Christ, she’s rubbing off on me. Next I’ll be talking about the aura of my leather settee.”

  Laughing, Dillon walked out of his office and down the hall, his mind already on lunch. Eating, however, wasn’t what had him so excited, despite the gnawing ache in his gut. He’d scarfed down a couple muffins before laying the rest of the laminate flooring, but he’d still been hungry afterward. And not just for food.

  After a quick stop at the deli to grab a couple sandwiches, and another coffee for Alexa—Irish cream this time—he headed up the street to Divine. The music hit him first when he opened the door. They’d switched to something with mournful strings and sweeping violins. In contrast with the scene of hilarity taking place near the prep table, the effect was jarring.

  “Trying out bondage, ladies?” he asked as he set his bags and the coffees down on the counter. Then he unhooked his tool belt—he never remembered to take the damn thing off—and set that down as well.

  Alexa pulled a pin out of her mouth and poked it into the bright pink ribbon sash she’d tied around Nellie’s bulging midsection. “Ha ha. No, I told Nellie I’d make her a sash if we got through a bunch of the boutonnieres we need to get done. It’s a rush job another florist botched so they have to be perfect. She totally rocked it.”

  “Way to go, Noelle.”

  Nellie beamed at him, probably for using her given name. “Thanks. Still can’t believe a school’s actually springing for a dance before school starts up again, but apparently their back-to-school mixer is a big hit
every year.”

  “It’s for Haven Prep, the middle school,” Alexa added. “You know, the richie rich kids.”

  Yeah, he knew. He’d attended that school. “Aren’t boutonnieres something guys get on their own?”

  “They hired a florist to do corsages and boutonnieres for the kids to pick up as they entered the dance. Apparently they didn’t want to take chances on what people would buy. They got the corsages from the other florist, the one who didn’t get their colors right.” Alexa shrugged. “Whatever floats their boat and pays green works for me.”

  Dillon studied the neat piles of flowers stacked across the prep table. “Wow, you’ve been busy.”

  “She’s a whiz kid. Second day on the job and already kicking ass.”

  “Watch it.” Nellie cupped her belly. “No swearing around the kid.”

  Alexa leaned down and spoke close to Nelly’s stomach. “Your mama’s kicking booty, girl child Conroy. Hear that?”

  Nellie’s giggle had to be one of the sweetest sounds he’d ever heard. When combined with the quick smile Alexa shot him as she straightened, he nearly staggered back. He loved seeing her happy. Way too much.

  “I brought you guys lunch,” he said, resting a hand on one of the bags. “Grabbed turkey sandwiches at the deli. Hope that’s okay.”

  “Thank God.” Nellie made a beeline for the bags, though she bypassed them to lean over the coffees. She took a long, dramatic sniff and sighed. “Ah, caffeine. I miss you so.”

  “What you’ve given up to reproduce.” Alexa nudged her friend aside and snatched the coffee with the big A on the cup. “You’re spoiling me, James,” she said before taking her first experimental sip. Then her eyes rolled back in her head. “Holy Christ, this is delicious.”

  “Language!” Nellie danced away, hip-swaying into a rockin’ boogie that didn’t really match their musical selection.

  Dillon frowned. “Should she be doing that? She might shake the baby loose or something.”

  Alexa laughed at his low comment. “Nah, that kid’s gotta bake for months yet. No early arrivals will be happening on my watch.”