by Joya Ryan
Which meant that she had her first customer . . . and no flowers.
“Tough day at the office?” Jake called from his relaxed seat on the porch of his house as he watched Laura strut her perfect ass up his driveway.
It was a bright summer evening on the coast. Not a cloud in the sky. And Laura’s skin looked extra tan with every ray that hit her legs. The woman was meant for the sunshine.
“It’s a flower shop that just so happens to have an office. Not the office, and it was a good day, thank you very much.”
He nodded and took a swig of beer. “I can see that.”
The woman was covered in dust and her pretty outfit was wrinkled, as if she’d been doing a whole lot of moving and bending. Something he’d love to have seen. But the outfit didn’t match the scenery. Laura may have been raised here once upon a time, but she was a high-class city girl. One who looked like she’d just had a taste of manual labor.
He was both impressed and turned on, because the prom queen was hot when she was pristine, but a little dirty? She was sexy as hell. And he had the need to show her what kind of dirty he was willing to make her.
“In fact,” she said with a snap of happiness in her voice, “today was extra great, because I’ve acquired my first customer.”
Jake could hear the pride in her voice. He still couldn’t help poking at her, though, because the truth remained that the flower shop contributed jack shit to the business as a whole. Sure, he was happy she was happy. Wait, he should be upset about that. Or at the very least he shouldn’t care. But her smile was wide even though her face held signs of a long day, and the first thing he felt the need to do was pull her closer and ask questions. Maybe tuck that lock of stray hair behind her ear while she told him about her day.
He closed his eyes briefly. It was that kind of thinking that he needed to be careful of. Between the business and her camping in his front yard, he couldn’t really avoid her. And yet, it was too much . . . but not enough.
He wanted to know more. To hear her voice. Purely from professional curiosity about the business, of course . . .
“That’s great you got a customer,” he started. “But you have nothing to sell them.”
She walked even closer, right up to his porch, but didn’t step on it. Her glare hit him hard, and he smiled around a swig of his beer. Damn, he loved her feisty side. Crazy how a woman could be so passionate . . . when she showed up, that was.
“Oh, I have something to sell. Actually, it’s a multiple flower order for a party, and it’s going to be great.”
He nodded. He didn’t doubt she was capable. But she needed to see for herself the hole she was digging. If she wanted to spin her wheels and spend her money on this grand idea, fine. It would be a hard lesson learned, but maybe then she’d see that the floral part of the business wasn’t worth hanging on to.
“Well, good for you,” he said and tipped his beer toward her in a salute.
She put a hand on her hip and blew a lock of hair of her eye. The same one he’d just been thinking about. She looked him over as if not impressed, but the slight flush in her cheeks when her gaze hit his chest told him she was a little impressed.
“Enjoying your day off, I see.”
“Yep.” He took another hearty swallow of beer. “It’s been a while since I’ve had a weekend off. And when something good comes along, I take full advantage.”
“I’m sure you do,” she muttered.
Jake saw her peek around at the large, open windows into his house.
“Still jealous about the woman who was here earlier? She’s gone, you know.”
Laura shrugged. “I don’t care about that in the least. Actually, I was just noticing how you have a pretty pathetic setup in there.”
“Well, don’t spare me the truth of how you really feel.”
But her words made Jake look over his shoulder into his house. His leather sofa and big-screen TV were noticeable. Hardwood floors. It was nice. So he had bare walls and no real sense of a cozy vibe, pictures, art, whatever. And yeah, in the daylight it did look a bit sterile. But he didn’t need any of that. He really didn’t. But Laura was real close to becoming the second woman of the day to criticize his house.
But for some reason, Laura bringing it up bugged him more than his sister. Like . . . he wanted to impress her or something.
“What’s wrong with my place?” he asked.
“It’s empty,” she said. “It’s just . . . depressing, really.”
“Coming from a woman who lives in that.” He pointed at the fifth wheel. “People who live in campers shouldn’t throw stones at gorgeous, custom-built homes.”
“At least it’s lived-in and warm.”
Jake wanted to argue, but honestly, he didn’t have much, because his ex had taken most everything, and whatever she hadn’t taken, he’d gotten rid of. He didn’t want reminders of her or the life he’d planned to have. It was just him now. In a house. Alone.
Sparse.
Yep, that about summed it up.
“I like it how it is,” he said and barely sounded convincing. “And besides, using words like warm doesn’t mean the camper is nice. That’s code for cluttered and messy.”
Her brow peaked. “Really? That’s what you think? Well, then . . .” She turned and walked toward the camper. “Why don’t you come see for yourself?”
Jake was off his seat and on her heels in record time. “I was wondering when you were going to invite me in,” he said against her ear as he stood behind her while she unlocked the door.
She spared him a glace over her shoulder. “I’m not inviting you in. You can look, but you can’t touch. And only so I can prove you wrong.”
Sounded like Jake’s situation at the moment with the sultry blonde. Look but don’t touch, and always the competition.
“Okay,” he acknowledged. “Then how about after the grand tour I take you to dinner?”
What the hell was he doing? Nothing smart. But after a day alone in an empty house, he wanted to talk to Laura more. Get caught up in her wide eyes and happy ideas. Hear her voice go up and down in volume with excitement.
“No dating,” she said drily.
“You have to eat sometime,” he said. For now. Because he wanted another night with Laura. “I’m ready to be wowed.”
She smiled and opened the door. She walked through, and Jake placed both his hands on the door frame and leaned in to get a good look.
“Holy hell,” he said in surprise. The place was clean, smelled like vanilla and fresh rain, and was . . . warm. He kept his spot on the outer step but shoved his big body through the doorway a bit more to look around. There were pops of color everywhere. A little vase of flowers on the small, two-person table. The bed was made up with a purple, gold, and cream quilt and matching pillowcases. He blinked to clear away the mirage he was seeing. Because this had to be a mirage.
Laura sat at the table and reached down to take off one heel, then the other.
“I love that face,” she said, looking at him with pure joy.
Jake frowned. “What face?”
“The one you’re making now,” she said. “You’re impressed and realize that I’m right. It’s nice in here. May not be a . . . what was it? Gorgeous, custom-built house? But it’s homey. And it’s mine.”
Jake glanced around again. She was right. It was homey. So much that he wanted to come inside. Have a cup of coffee with her. Because every inch of the camper was all her. And Walt. It was a Baughman place. And damn if he didn’t desperately want to be a part of that.
“You can let yourself out now,” she said.
Jake nodded once. They were right back to square one. Which really sucked, because he was trying for more squares. But he was growing increasingly confused. She’d obviously spent hours cleaning this place. Between that and making that list of hers, she must not have slept at all last night. But she’d made the camper her own. Would that make her stick around this time and not take off at the next best
opportunity? He didn’t get how someone like Laura could be so wrong, yet so right.
Wrong for him, at least. He’d been burned once and knew better than to trust her kind of woman. The kind that was constantly eyeing the bigger, better deal. But there was a kindness to her. A good work ethic. A spirit of ambition.
Yes, he liked her.
Had for a long time.
But he still had to be smart. Responsible. Sort of.
Nothing about her made sense, and he was starting to feel like a key puzzle piece was missing.
“I really do like what you’ve done with the place,” Jake said honestly. “And the woman today at my house was my sister.”
She paused and looked up at him. Jake figured Laura hadn’t gotten a good look at her and even if she had, Erica had changed a lot in the past decade. A flash of emotion spread over Laura’s face. Sadness, happiness, relief? It was so complex he couldn’t pinpoint it. But there was a slight downturn of her mouth that made him think she was hurting.
He didn’t know why he’d said that, but he’d felt like he had to. To clear the air. To let her know he wasn’t with anyone but her.
“It’s your life,” she said. “I’m not asking questions.”
With one last look at her, he stepped down. He was officially on the outside and she was on the inside. And for some reason, his big, beautiful, custom-made house didn’t feel so great at the moment.
She wasn’t asking him questions. Wasn’t asking him in. In fact, he stood there, with the sun starting to set, wishing he could do some of the asking. First question would be why she had a sad look in her eyes. Why she was working so hard at something that was doomed. Why was she so . . . relentless?
Wanting to know Laura Baughman was a bad thing. He should be concentrating on keeping his distance, not wondering what she was doing later and if she’d ever consider having dinner with him.
He tried again.
“Laura,” he said despite his better judgment. “I’d like to take you to dinner. Any night, you pick.”
Her eyes looked soft; then she said, “I can’t. I have plans.”
“All week?”
She nodded. “I can’t do dinner with you, Jake.”
That’s when the events of last night hit him. “Can you do dinner with someone else? Like Deputy Quarterback?”
She didn’t say anything. And the longer Jake stood there, the more he felt like an outsider. Literally.
“Enjoy your night,” he said. And the child in him wanted to hope she didn’t.
Chapter Six
Laura needed to talk to her dad. This business with Jake was getting . . . complicated. It had been three days since the truck incident. And by incident she meant crazy, amazing sex. But it was a new week, and she had gone as far as she could with the shop on zero dollars.
She needed some investment money, and since Baughman was a business, which included both the warehouse and the shop, she was hoping her father would see reason and let her use some of the company money to buy flowers.
She already had a slam dunk with this order from Hannah.
The sun was just starting to set over the ocean as she walked down Main Street, toward Bubba’s Subs, where her father had told her to meet him.
Only when she came to the sandwich shop, she realized quickly that Bubba’s Subs was no longer in business. Rather, it was now Berta’s Britches and Brassieres.
“Oh no. No, no, no,” Laura muttered to herself as she stared down the front window display of lingerie. A mannequin wearing a sequined bra with cups sewn to look like beach balls was waving at her.
This was an ambush.
Laura turned to walk—run—away, but the jingle bell of the door opened and a familiar voice rang out.
“Laura! Get your skinny behind in here. Your daddy said you were coming by!”
Laura turned to find Roberta in a black leather tank top, arms wide-open in greeting, standing in the doorway.
“Berta’s lingerie. Of course,” Laura said, slowly walking into the giant bosomy hug that was waiting for her.
“And you’re just in time,” Roberta said, switching over the CLOSED sign in the window and tugging Laura inside. “My Lusty Ladies book club is here, and as promised, there’s plenty of Chex Mix and Merlot for one more lusty lady.” Roberta winked and gave Laura a side hug as she ushered her through the store and toward the back.
The sounds of chatty women came from the back room while Laura couldn’t help but take in the amazing store. Beautiful displays of intricately sewn lingerie were proudly displayed, and Laura caught herself staring at a red lace number hanging on the far wall. The place was bright with colors, but the room was soft and glowing, as if lit by candlelight. Just really good dimming, it seemed. Everything was classy and lovely and unique. That’s when it hit Laura: Roberta loved color and had a shop full of creative fabrics, just like Laura’s mother had loved color and had a shop full of creative flowers.
Maybe Roberta was better for her dad than she’d realized.
“You like it?” Roberta asked as they swayed past a rack of garter belts, the soft clicking of the clasps ringing through the air as they shrugged past them.
“Roberta, this is really an incredible shop,” Laura admitted.
But as they came to the back and Laura saw three ladies sitting around a small wood table littered with copies of Cowboy Kink and—yep—a bowl of Chex Mix, Laura had a flare of nerves.
“My dad said to meet him here?” she asked.
Roberta laughed. “Oh, honey, your daddy never comes to my ladies’ night. Besides, he’s avoiding you.”
“What?” Laura said in surprise. “But he said—”
“Yeah, I know, but he wants you and Jake to work out your issues these next few weeks. Besides, this gives you and me a chance to hang out.”
He could have just said that. But then again, Laura wouldn’t have shown up. Cunning old man. She just needed a plan B, because she was running out of time and options and didn’t want to go to Jake for money for the business. One, because he wouldn’t give it to her, and two, the man was stubborn and she hated the idea of asking for something that should be part of the business already. Not because she was trying to be a brat, but because she really did want to do this on her own. Not with Jake holding her shop in his hands. His strong, rough, incredible hands.
No way was she asking him for money. It was bad enough she was already considering going to him for another orgasm or two. But she had to get flowers for Hannah’s order.
“Roberta, I really need to speak with my dad.”
“Sorry, honey. He’s out looking at the plans for one of those custom log cabins.”
“What?”
Roberta nodded and handed her a copy of Cowboy Kink and pulled out a chair. “Cal James is building this subdivision of sorts on the outskirts of town, only all the homes are supposed to look like log cabins. We’re looking into buying one.”
Laura’s brows shot up. Not just because she knew of Cal James. She’d gone to high school with him, and though they’d never hung out, she’d thought he was one of those genius types in the AV club. She was more shocked that her father really was moving on. Buying a house with Roberta and all.
“This is Tilly, Cynthia, and Esther,” Roberta said, introducing the Lusty Ladies.
“Here, kiddo, you’ll need this for the topics we’re covering tonight. Don’t worry, Cynthia will catch you up on everything,” Tilly said, handing Laura a big glass of wine and pointing to the book.
“It really is so nice to meet you,” Laura started, because she couldn’t stay. Not here, not with these women who were looking at her like they’d just found a stray kitten. “I really do have a ton to get done and figure out—”
“Oh, honey, you want to get ahead around here, we’re your best bet. Now sit your cute behind down and get comfy,” Roberta said, gently shoving on Laura’s shoulder so she plopped in her seat. Her wine swished, and Roberta took a seat next to her.
Laura blew out a breath. She’d have to thank her father later for this setup. Not only was he avoiding her, but he’d sicced his lady friend on her to be . . . friends?
Laura didn’t even know how to start to handle this.
“You know, Travis McCreedy is starting up a ranch,” Tilly said, tapping her copy of Cowboy Kink. “He’s the hero in this book. He has problems, too. Kind of like your flower shop. Only he needs cows and there’s a land dispute.”
“Of course, that’s when Georgia comes in and helps him out . . .” Cynthia said with a giggle.
“Yeah, helps him out of his belt buckle. That barn scene with those two going at it in the hay was hot!” Tilly cut back in.
Oh God, this was happening. Laura sat there and just chugged down her wine while her father’s girlfriend and her friends chatted about a book and sex in a barn. She’d need a few more glasses to calm the chaos rising in her stomach.
She needed support and flowers, and what she’d gotten was zero answers, an avoidant father, and sex talk she was trying to stay away from, because sex or talk of any kind only made her think of Jake.
“You know, Travis will get that big deal he needs. Just like you, Laura,” Roberta said.
“Pardon?” Laura asked. Was she really comparing a dirty-book cowboy to her situation?
But Roberta simply nodded. “You starting the flower shop. You need a big deal to land some profit and get that sexy foreman off your tail, right?”
“Ah, yeah,” Laura replied. Roberta seemed to be more in the loop than she’d realized.
“Well, there you are, just like Travis.” She tapped the book. “You just need to find your big break. Like a large land development project looking for plants and flowers for a local subdivision . . . for example.”
Laura’s eyes shot up. She’d gone to school with Cal and was pretty sure he was smart back then, but heading up a major building project like this, the guy was clearly doing well for himself. But was Roberta really giving her a hint as to what to go for?