Playing With Trouble (Desire Bay)

by Joya Ryan

  Stop looking sexy as sin!

  But she couldn’t very well scream that out. No matter how badly she wanted to. She looked at him, and all that gumption she’d worked up was out the window. She was going to tell him where he could go. Which was straight to her bed—

  No! Hell. He could go to hell.

  Maybe after a brief pit stop at her bed?

  Okay, her conscience was a lusty bitch, and it was time for Laura to get a damn grip.

  She cleared her throat and clutched tighter the drafts of ideas she’d drawn up the night before. It was the only thing that had kept her sane and off the Jacob sex topic.

  “Good morning,” she tried again, bypassing the whole stop looking sexy thing. Smooth. Really smooth. “Clearly, I woke you, and I apologize for the inconvenience.”

  Okay, her voice was better. Professional. So far, so good.

  “You didn’t wake me,” he said with a grin.

  She kept her train of thought as consistent as she could—but then he shifted his stance, making the thin gray material of his pants cling a little more in the right place, and suddenly her mind was in the gutter again. Oh, she knew exactly how well that man could move those hips. Especially when he was inside her—

  “Stop,” she whispered again. Thankfully, this time it was so quiet Jacob couldn’t hear it. Not like she needed to give him a reason to think her crazy. She was already talking to herself. Wait . . . maybe she was crazy. No, just sleep deprived, surely. That’s why she had a hard time thinking of much more than Jacob’s body, or his mouth.

  What was she doing again? Oh, right! Being assertive and running a business.

  “I need the key for the floral shop,” she announced proudly.

  He took a sip of his coffee and eyed her. “It’s Saturday.”

  “Yes, I can read a calendar. However, it is my shop, and I’ve decided to go in today and revive it.”

  “That right?” he said, amused. “Well, I think that’s great, Laura.”

  She frowned. He was being nice to her. “You do?”

  “Of course I do. It is your shop, as you said.”

  “Okay . . . thank you.”

  He nodded. Why was he trying to be nice to her?

  “It’s a shop of empty coolers. But don’t worry, it’ll look like a floral shop in no time. I think I can handle it.”

  “I’m sure you can. And I’ll stick to the warehouse.”

  Ah, now she understood. He wanted to remind her that they were separate. Which Laura didn’t agree with. The business was a business as a whole. And she wanted to be a part of it. Even the parts—like the warehouse—she didn’t understand.

  But the way Jake looked at her got her caught up. She could get lost in those ice-blue eyes.

  No, she couldn’t.

  “The key?” she asked again.

  When he turned to reach for the small table by the entrance, that impressive chest stretched farther, and good Lord, the man had muscles she hadn’t thought existed on a body.

  “Best of luck to you,” he said and dropped the single silver key into her open palm.

  “No luck required. I have skills—”

  “I’m aware,” he said with a wink. He was not helping her plan of being indifferent. Because every breath he took just made all that mocha skin flex a little more over those impressive pecs.

  “Stop flirting with me,” she said. “I’m trying to discuss business.”

  He raised his brows. “Well, then by all means. I’d love to talk business with you. Your shop versus my warehouse?”

  “No,” she said between gritted teeth. “I have some solid ideas of how to incorporate more business toward the floral shop.” She patted her legal pad with pride. “While learning more about the warehouse and how it can play a part.”

  He glanced at said paper.

  “So you were up all night fantasizing about something that isn’t going to happen?” he said and looked her up and down with a heated gaze.

  She lifted her chin. “So were you,” she snapped, and his gaze met hers again. She could dish his flirting right back at him, because if there was one thing that was never going to happen, it was them.

  Sex was one thing. An accidental lapse in judgment was excusable. But it was over.

  “You think the floral shop offers nothing? That’s where you’re wrong. There’s more to Baughman Home Goods than just the warehouse.”

  “Nothing profitable. Which is why they’re separate.”

  That made her seethe. She’d show this smug man a thing or two, starting with restoring the flower department to its role as a major player in the business.

  “I disagree.”

  Jake ran his free hand over his neck. “There’s nothing there. It’s our office now and has literally brought in zero money for the last several years. Zero flowers. Zero.”

  “I know how to count to zero,” she said in a sharp tone. “But you have to spend money to make money, and the flower shop will bring profit once it gets going in the right direction.”

  “I hate to break it to you, but you really are living in fantasyland.”

  “My fantasies are all grounded and obtainable, I assure you,” she said, defending her genius idea that she wasn’t going to waste her breath telling him about.

  He just rested his wrist on the door frame and leaned in close enough so she could smell the fabric softener from his bedsheets faintly wafting from his warm skin. The man smelled like a Saturday morning she could get wrapped around.

  “All of my fantasies are grounded and obtainable, too.” He openly looked her from lips to eyes and smiled. “It’s only a matter of time.”

  “And hard work,” she stuttered, though she had a feeling they weren’t talking about the same thing anymore.

  “Oh, I’m willing to put in the work for the reward,” he said, and that time his gaze paused extra long on her mouth, and yep, she knew they weren’t talking about the business anymore.

  “Again, I don’t even like you,” she said.

  “Is that why you jammed your tongue down my throat last night?”

  “That has nothing to do with liking you.”

  “All right. Then can you not like me all over again? I promise I’ll not like you right back. Hard and slow and—”

  “Is there a reason you sound so smug?” she asked. Hating that she had, but Jacob tended to bring out her sassy side, which normally she had no problem hiding. Until she’d accidentally had sex with him against his truck last night. Whoops. Now she had to be on high alert about everything she said, every move she made. Because both would be aimed at him if she wasn’t careful.

  “I just thought it was fair to talk about my fantasies since we talked about yours,” he teased and stretched on purpose, running a palm over his hard stomach. “Just feeling good this morning. Had a good night, after all.”

  “Really? Because from my point of view it was a big problem.”

  “Two things.” He held up his hands and counted them off. “One, I’m glad you noticed I’m big.” He winked, and she rolled her eyes. “Second, I’m a problem solver, Miss Baughman.”

  That made her blush, and she instantly thought of last night. Yes, they’d had sex, but if his mind was anything like hers, all she thought about was reliving that moment. She’d even considered touching herself to ease the ache of withdrawal from him. Had he made himself come last night? Thinking of her? Why did the just the idea make her hot and—

  “Jake?” a female voice called from inside.

  Laura’s eyes shot wide. He had a woman over? This early in the morning? He was half-naked and . . .

  Oh hell no.

  “Be right there,” he called casually over his shoulder.

  Fire raced through her veins. Had he seriously had sex with her last night and then still found time to get another woman to his house? She was learning quickly that Jake did mean what he said. And clearly, he’d taken another woman home last night. He had clearly changed so much since she’d k
nown him ten years ago. How could she be so naive?

  “Problem solver indeed,” she said between gritted teeth and turned on her heel to walk away.

  “Whoa, hold up,” he said, coming after her and shutting the front door. Clearly he didn’t want the woman inside hearing or seeing Laura. “Want me to give you a ride to work? Or at least back to your car you left at the bar last night?”

  “No.” She was not going near that truck again. Or him. “Enjoy your morning.” She glanced over his shoulder to his house, where she saw a beautiful, dark-haired woman walk by the window. Like she knew where she was going. Like she was comfortable there. “And you’re right. You certainly are a problem solver.”

  A wide grin broke over Jake’s face, and she wanted to smack it right off him. He glanced behind him, then back at her, realizing she could see the woman through the windows.

  “Hold up,” he said with a small chuckle. Which did amazing things to those cut abs of his. “Are you jealous?”

  “No!” she shot out quickly. “I just have work to do, and clearly you have something to do as well, so I’ll be on my way.”

  “Oh yeah,” he said. “You’re jealous.”

  She huffed and got in his face. “Understand one thing right now, Jacob Lock. I’m a lot of things. Including resourceful, driven—”

  “Stubborn,” he said.

  “Smart,” she continued.

  “Sexy.”

  She shook her head. “My point is, jealous is not one of them.”

  “Oh, I think you are.”

  “Well, perhaps you should keep one thing in mind when you’re doing all that thinking.” She took a step closer until her breasts touched his bare chest. She was going for intimidating but had to stifle a gasp at the contact and stay focused. “I am a Baughman and my name is on the business. Literally. And I’m going to make this shop work. With or without your help.” She gave a hard glare to drive her point home. “So keep that in mind.”

  He smiled and leaned in. Just when she thought he might try to kiss her, he brought his coffee cup between them and took a sip.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  She nodded once and turned to walk off. The morning was cool and thankfully it wasn’t raining and she needed to clear her head. Especially when Jacob called after her.

  “Have a good day, Miss Baughman.”

  Chapter Five

  Laura was rethinking her outfit choice about an hour into scrubbing out the coolers. So much for looking professional. She was on her hands and knees getting God knew how many years of filth out of the flower coolers. Good news was there was plenty of space for various flowers and arrangements. Just a little tidying up was all it’d take to get the shop looking niceish. And not like an office.

  Okay, so it was a bit dated. Sure, you walked in and saw the old couch in the seating area and drab decor and it gave the vibe of 1987, but she could work with that. Mostly because she had to stay positive. With some fresh arrangements and the coolers and cases full of colorful options, it would set off the front desk and simple seating area.

  She hoped.

  She glanced over her shoulder to said seating area and calculated new chairs and an area rug into the mental budget she had in her mind.

  She kicked off her heels and finished scrubbing the last cooler.

  Next task was tackling the desk, which held dust—sawdust, more specifically—a computer from the nineties, and an even older printer.

  Mentally calculating a laptop and Bluetooth printer . . .

  Which would help the warehouse, too, so Jake could suck it. She glanced around, and anger flared at Jacob. Partly because she was still thinking of him naked, and the fact that she hadn’t actually seen him fully naked—not that she cared. But she was more upset that he’d let this place go. He only cared about the dumb warehouse of mannish supplies in the back. But flowers were a part of this place, the legacy of her mother, and she’d be damned if they were left by the wayside.

  The little bell over the front door dinged, and Laura turned to see the door swing open and Hannah walk through.

  “Hannah?” Laura said, standing and dusting off her hands.

  “I just wanted to come check this place out. You took off in a hurry last night.”

  Laura took a deep breath. “Yeah, just needed some fresh air.”

  “Uh-huh. And did you find it in Gabe’s or Jake’s mouth?”

  “What?”

  “Oh, come on, it was obvious both of them are after you.”

  She couldn’t lie to her best friend. “I gave Gabe my number just as a friendly catch-up, considerate thing.”

  Which he’d taken seriously, since he’d already texted a few times and they’d made dinner plans to catch up later this week. Which Laura had agreed to—a friendly hangout. Not a date.

  “So you got it bad for Jake, then?”

  “No, I don’t have anything for anyone. And if you were going to guess, smart money would be on the guy I gave my number to.”

  “Yeah, but you never go for the smart bet when it comes to guys,” Hannah said.

  She had a point there.

  “Well, as fun as it would be to chat about my bad taste in men, how about we talk about something else?”

  Hannah smiled. “Oh, come on, you have great taste in bad men. But this place looks amazing.”

  Laura dusted off her hands. Anything to get past her no-dating policy and change the subject.

  “I’m hoping to really be up and running in a few days,” Laura said. “I just need to finish cleaning and—”

  “Obtain some flowers?” Hannah finished, glancing at the empty coolers. Laura’s chest stuttered on a breath, because the simplicity of her problem was also overwhelming.

  “Yeah, that’s a top priority.”

  “How top of a priority?” Hannah asked, coming more inside. “Because you know that lame-ass thing I was telling you about? It’s my boss’s brother’s reception, or party, or some shit.” Hannah waved her hand like she was swatting an annoying fly away. “Anyway, he’s throwing it at the bar, and apparently because I have tits he thinks I know how to decorate for a party. The one thing he wanted, though, was centerpieces for all the tables.”

  “Really?” Laura exclaimed. Then she tried to tamp down her excitement. Her best friend was also going to be her first customer. “I can do centerpieces. I just need an idea of what you like, how many, and your budget.”

  “I don’t like flowers, so it’s whatever you think, and I need twelve. The budget is a grand.”

  Laura nodded happily. She could pull that off. Flowers at wholesale couldn’t be that expensive. Pair them with some cute vases and boom! She had a customer. She’d stand to make a profit if the centerpieces came in under seventy dollars apiece. Which they should. At least, she thought so . . .

  “That’s great. I can do that. When do you need these?”

  “Is one week too soon?”

  “Nope,” Laura said quickly. “I can make that work.” She’d make anything work if it meant getting a profit for the shop.

  “You’re a lifesaver,” Hannah said, and for the first time, Laura felt good about herself. She was making progress—she had a customer and couldn’t wait to shove this in Jacob’s smug face. Flowers could be lucrative. Sure, it was her best friend needing flowers for a bar, but still. It counted as business. And she hadn’t spent a dime. Which meant she could use some of the business money to get some start-up items and flowers, because she’d make it back. Perfect!

  She just had to figure out how to get Jake to loan her some of that business money, since he was the stingy man in charge of the accounts.

  “I have to get running to work, but come in and see me.”

  “Um . . . I’ll try. I just have a thing later this week.”

  “A thing?” Hannah asked.

  “It’s not a date, but I told Gabe I’d have dinner and catch up with him.”

  “Oh, sure. And I bet he’s real excited to catch you up with the par
ty in his pants.”

  “Shut up,” Laura said with a laugh.

  “See you later, Queenie.”

  Hannah nodded and let herself out. Laura wanted to high-five herself. But she couldn’t waste any time. Her dad used to keep his wholesale suppliers in a Rolodex around here somewhere . . .

  She started looking through the office area. Opening drawers, which—surprise, surprise—had more sawdust in them. After a bit of hunting, she finally found the dusty spinner of contacts and started going through them.

  She found the main supplier and the backup supplier, picked up the office phone, and dialed.

  “Hello, this is Laura Baughman at Baughman Home Goods and I’d like to discuss a shipment of flowers for a rush delivery.”

  “Ah, Baughman? Like Walt?” the voice asked over the line.

  “Yes, he’s my father.”

  “Oh, well, I’m sorry, ma’am, but we’ve been out of the flower business for a few years now. The wife got into landscape design with my oldest. Is Jake needing to speak with me?”

  Laura frowned. “I’m sorry, Jacob Lock? Why would he speak with you?”

  “Well, he runs Baughman Home Goods and is set to deliver the thick chip bark I ordered next week. Is everything all right? We’re still on for the order, right? Because I need that bark.”

  Laura’s mouth hung open, and she frowned and shook her head. “I . . . yes, I suppose it’s fine. I mean, I assume he’s still going to deliver your bark.”

  “Assume? Is that why you’re calling me?”

  “I’m calling because I thought you supplied flowers at wholesale.”

  “That was years ago. You supply me with bark. Is Jake there? Maybe I should talk to him. This is—”

  “No,” Laura said quickly. “He’s not here. I’m sorry for the confusion. Have a good day.”

  The man mumbled something, and Laura hung up fast. How had this happened? The flower wholesaler now was using Baughman for their orders? Through Jake? Holy hell, the world was backward. She was ready to throw the phone across the room. Or maybe herself. The man who’d once supplied Baughman was now being supplied by Baughman? And now she looked like the idiot.

  Frickin’ great . . .

  She dialed the secondary wholesaler, determined to be stealthier this time and feel out the situation. But she got a disconnected number. After a few Google searches on her phone, she realized that they were also out of business.