Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
The Flirt Club!
May Flowers
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About the Author
Also by Tracy Lorraine
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Copyright © 2019 by Tracy Lorraine
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Edited by Luxe Literary Co.
Cover design and formatting by Dandelion Cover Designs.
My beautiful daughter x
“I told the delivery driver to put it in the living room,” Vaughan, my housemate, says, dragging her feet up the stairs after her long night shift.
“What delivery?”
“The one I just signed for.” She rolls her eyes, clearly not impressed with having to state the obvious.
“I haven’t ordered anything.”
“Well, he said it was for you.”
“Really?” Drawing my brows together, I study her as she thinks. Her eyes are tired and bloodshot, her usually glowing skin pale with exhaustion. I know the feeling well after a week of nights at the hospital.
“Maybe…Yeah…No. I don’t know.” She sighs, beginning to get flustered. “I need sleep.” With her shoulders drooping, she heads towards her bedroom.
The sound of footsteps coming from downstairs has me moving. I’m so intrigued by what’s being put into our living room that I forget I’m only wearing a thin tank top and boy shorts. That is, until the driver turns to me.
A shiver runs down my spine at being the subject of his appreciation.
“What’s this?” I ask, folding my arms over my chest in an attempt to cover a little of myself up. Dragging my eyes away from his leery ones, I look over his shoulder. “Flowers?”
“I’m sorry for your loss, ma’am.” With those parting words, the delivery driver turns and walks out.
“What the actual fuck?” I mutter, stepping a little closer to the boxes. My breath catches when the reason that he’s sorry for my loss comes into view. These aren’t just flowers…they’re funeral flowers. Beautiful arrangements full of soft greens and the dusky pink of freshly bloomed cherry blossoms.
Reaching my fingers forward, I lightly touch the delicate petals. The arrangements are stunning. I’ve never seen anything like them before. Someone’s put a lot of time into these to get them just right for…
I’m suddenly struck with the idea that somewhere, possibly close, there’s a family trying to deal with the loss of a loved one. A loved one they’re expecting to remember today with these beautiful flowers.
“Fuck.”
Scouring the boxes for the company who made them, I eventually find a business card tucked into the corner.
I take it to the kitchen, get the coffee machine started, and grab the phone from the side. Quickly punching the number in, I put it to my ear, hoping to sort this mess out before anyone has to suffer anymore.
I remember what it was like when my dad died a few years ago. Mom was a mess as it was, and I can only imagine her anxiety levels if the flowers hadn’t arrived.
“This is Blooming Beautiful. Sorry we can’t take your call but if you leave your name and—” A knock at the door has me hanging up in the hope someone’s here to correct their mistake.
Pulling the front door open, what I find is definitely not the sleazy delivery guy, or someone who looks anything like a florist. Instead, there’s a man. He must be at least six foot four, and his shoulders are almost as wide. The entire solid package is wrapped in a sleek black suit that looks like it’s been made to measure.
My eyes drop from his chest, and I take in the perfectly pressed white shirt and his slim waist where he’s standing with his hands inside his pockets.
He doesn’t say anything, which I find a little odd, but when I make it all the way up to his face I kind of understand why.
He’s staring down at the floor. His face looks tired, his lips pressed into a thin line. It wouldn’t take a genius to work out that he’s probably here for the flowers.
“I…I think what you’re looking for is inside,” I say softly. It’s enough to bring his head up. I hold my breath, preparing for the look of loss and devastation on his face, but when his eyes do find mine I feel a physical blow to the chest.
They’re are the lightest blue I’ve ever seen, and although they’re tired, the longer our connection holds, the softer they become. His face transforms in front of me. He seems to come back to life. Ripping his eyes from mine, he takes in my face before dropping down my body. I’m once again reminded that I’m not dressed for random visitors, but my body doesn’t have the same reaction as the last time. There’s no dread or disgust sitting heavy in my stomach like there was with the delivery man, only butterflies of excitement taking up residence in its place.
This is totally inappropriate, a little voice says in the back of my head. But I easily manage to push it aside as the corners of his lips twitch up into a small, appreciative smile when he finds my face once again.
“I’m…uh…” His voice is deep and rough, and it touches parts of me that have been neglected for a very long time. “I’m looking for some flowers. Are they here?”
“They are.”
Relief floods his features and he blows out a long breath. “Thank Christ for that. I’m so sorry—”
“It’s no problem,” I say in a rush. “Come in.”
Stepping aside, I allow him some space to enter. Only, he stops right in front of me. His eyes narrow as he studies my face, like he’s trying to figure something out.
“Well, I didn’t see this coming,” he mutters to himself.
His upper arm brushes my breast lightly, sending tingles shooting through my body. I jump back in shock and bump against the doorframe. Sadly, the move doesn’t go unnoticed.
“Everything okay?” he asks, that little smirk back in place.
I nod, and it must be enough to convince him because he turns on his heel and marches towards the living room.
“How did you kn—” I don’t get to finish my question because when I walk into the room, he’s standing, staring down at the flowers. His shoulders slump and he reaches out and lightly touches the petals.
I go to step back out of the room to allow him a moment but he must sense my presence.
“They’re my sister’s. Today’s her…today, we’re saying goodbye to her.”
“I’m so sorry.”
Looking over his shoulder, he turns his tired eyes on me. Nodding in acceptance, he turns back to the flowers.
“Would you like a coffee?” The words are out of my mouth before my brain has processed them. “I mean, you don’t have to, it’s just that it looks like you might need one. Shit, no, that came out wrong. It just might help is all.” My cheeks burn red as I keep my eyes away from him. What the fuck is wrong with me?
“Coffee sounds great. Thank you.”
My eyes fly to his, my mouth dropping open in shock. He’s standing once again with his hands in his pockets, his jacket open, giving me a hint of the solid body hiding beneath it.
“You want it strong?”
His eyes blaze with amusement. “You bet.” He winks—actually fucking winks—as I start to back out of the room.
Resting my palms on the counter, I suck in a few big gulps of air as I wait for the coffee.
What the actual fuck am I doing right now? His sister’s just died and here I am offering him what? Coffee…just coffee, Cherry.
“Yeah, yeah. They’re here. Yeah…I’ll be home soon. Please try to relax, everything is going to be…fine,” I hear from the living room before his footsteps start getting louder. However, by the time they’re right behind me, I can barely hear them over the pounding of my heart and the whooshing in my ears.
As much as I fight it, my hand trembles as I pass him a mug of coffee.
“Thank you. You were right before, I really do need this.” His eyes drop from mine and I can’t help thinking the coffee is only the tip of the iceberg of what he needs right now.
I gesture over to the small dining table and he walks over, pulls a chair out, and sits down. But not before removing his jacket. The white shirt he’s wearing covers his wide frame like a second skin and I can’t drag my eyes away from his broad shoulders and slim waist.
He’s silent for a second, staring out into our little courtyard garden. But he soon turns his attention back to me.
“I’m sorry for this morning. My brother-in-law gave the wrong address to the flower shop. He’s kind of a mess right now and—” He waves off his comment. It doesn’t really need an explanation.
“Why here?” I ask, desperately wanting to know how his sister’s funeral flowers ended up in my living room.
“This was their first home together. He’s been on autopilot since she passed. He had no idea he’d screwed up until no flowers were delivered this morning.”
“Shit. Well, I’m glad we were here to take them in for you.”
“We?” he asks with a little too much curiosity.
“Yeah, my…uh…housemate just got in from a night shift and let the driver in.”
He nods before lifting the mug. My eyes zero in as he wraps his lips around the edge and takes a sip.
“That’s good.” He moans, making the aching in my lower stomach worse. “I think this was just what I needed this morning. Thank you…”
“Cherry,” I say, but it comes out as a whisper.
“Thank you, Cherry.” His eyes hold mine for longer than appropriate, and my body heats up. “I need to see you again.”
My chin drops as he stands to full height and pulls his jacket from the chair, shrugging it on.
“I…uh…”
“I’ve got a long day ahead of me so I can’t promise anything, but I’ll be back.”
Excitement fills me, but his face drops and I’m reminded of why he’s here in the first place.
“Let me help you,” I say, racing after him as he heads to collect the flowers.
After picking up the first box, he turns to me. “I’ve got it. You can’t go outside like that.” He nods down to my breasts covered in only the thin fabric of my tank top.
“I’m sure it’s nothing they haven’t seen before.”
Something possessive flashes in his eyes, but it’s gone before I can question it. So fast, in fact, I start to think I imagined it.
“I’ve got it. Just hold the door.”
He makes three trips to the car before coming back and standing with his hands back in his pockets and an awkward look on his face.
“Thank you, Cherry. This was…unexpected.”
“You’re telling me,” I say with a laugh in the hope it lightens the tension surrounding us.
Reaching his hand out, I go to do the same, thinking he’s going to shake my hand, but I soon learn this is going to be anything but formal when his warm palm cups my cheek.
It should be uncomfortable, having a man I’ve just met touching me like this, but instead of jumping away, I find myself leaning into his warmth.
He opens his mouth to say something but the ringing of his phone distracts him. “Shit, I’ve really got to go. Thank you, again. It was…”
“Unexpected,” I call after him. His shoulders shake with a laugh, and as he gets to his car he turns back around. “I hope today is…what she deserves,” I add with a wince when I realize there’s no good way to finish the sentence I started.
He nods sadly. “I’ll see you soon.”
“Wait. What’s your name?”
“Warren.”
He drops into the driver’s seat and with one small final smile, he closes the door and starts the engine.
I stand in the doorway staring at the space where his car was for the longest time. What on earth was all that?
Shutting the front door, I get a look at the time. “Fuck.” I’m going to be late for work.
By the time I walk up to the house later that night, every muscle in my body aches and my eyes sting, desperate for sleep.
“Whoa,” I shout in surprise as the door is pulled open as I’m about to slide the key into the lock.
“Shit, sorry,” Vaughan says, walking out in a barely-there little black dress.
“Hot date?”
“Yes. I met a police officer at work. Wish me luck.”
“Good luck.”
“Thanks. You’ve got company,” she calls over her shoulder.
Walking into the house, I pull my jacket off and slide my shoes off my feet, sighing in relief.
“I’ll be there in a minute,” I call towards the living room as I make my way upstairs to get rid of my uniform.
Vaughan didn’t need to tell me who it is; I already know it’ll be Bryony working her way through another Netflix boxset. Since our other friends are now coupled up, she’s taken to hanging out here when she doesn’t have a date. I don’t mind, as she’s a good laugh. When she’s not trying to drag me out to a club to hook up, that is.
“Yesss,” I hiss, pulling my bra away from my body and dropping it on top of the pile of discarded clothes at my feet.
I have a very quick shower, then pull on a pair of leggings and a loose sweater, re-doing my hair before going to find out what we’re watching tonight.
“Sorry, I had to get out of my uniform. You don’t even want to know what was on it,” I say, knowing that anything medical or vaguely bodily fluid related freaks her out. “Have you already got wi—oh!” As I round the corner, I don’t find who I was expecting to be sitting on my couch.
“Cherry, I’m—”
“You’re here…”
“I told you I needed to see you again.”
“I know, I just wasn’t expecting you quite so soon.” Pulling at the hem of my sweater, I awkwardly stand in the doorway looking at him. He’s still wearing the black suit from earlier, only the jacket’s been discarded over the back of the couch, the tie is undone and hanging loosely around his neck, and his shirt sleeves are rolled up to reveal muscular arms that are covered in ink.
“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.” My stomach turns over at his admission. “Come and sit down. I brought wine, and your housemate got me some glasses.”
Hesitantly, I walk over and curl myself into the corner of the couch as he pours me a glass.
“Yum, that’s gorgeous,” I say after having a sip.
“These are for you, too.” Reaching down the side of the couch, he pulls out a giant bouquet of flowers.
“You didn’t have to do that.” Taking them from his outstretched hand, I breathe in their scent.
“I just wanted to thank you for this morning.”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“You did more than you know.”
Narrowing my eyes at him, I hope it’ll encourage him to say more, but he just lifts his own glass to his lips. I watch the muscles in his neck work as he swallows.
I fist my hand at my side, fighting the sudden need to reach over and place my lips to his skin to find out if it’s as soft as I think it might be.
His eyes find mine the second he lowers his glass, and they visibly darken as our stare holds. The tension between us crackles and my mouth goes dry.
“How was today?”
>
“It was…beautiful. Exactly what she deserved.” Silence falls around us, but it’s not uncomfortable. I watch as he sips his wine, reliving his day. “She’d been ill for a long time. The last year or so had been so hard on her. As weird as it might sound, I’m glad she’s now found some peace.”
“I understand that. My dad battled cancer for years.”
“I’m sorry. Shit, I didn’t intend to come here and be depressing.”
“Why are you here?”
“I needed to know more about you.” Placing his almost empty glass on the coffee table, he slides a little closer, making my heart start to race. “So, your housemate said you’re a nurse.”
“Yep, pediatric nurse.”
Leaning even closer so I feel his breath on my face, he whispers, “I bet you’re incredible.”
I mumble some kind of agreement as his eyes flick down to my lips. My mouth waters to find out how he tastes.
“God, I’ve been imagining this since you opened the door this morning.
“Do it,” I whisper. Then I panic at my forwardness. I’m usually the shy one hiding at the back. I’ve never once in my life dared a man to kiss me.
Closing the distance between us, his hand lands on my waist, then his lips press gently against mine.
It’s nice. Comforting. That is, until his fingers grip a little tighter and his tongue brushes against my lips. Then it turns hot, dirty, and makes me want to beg for more.
He shifts me so I have no choice but to lie back on the couch. His giant body presses me down into the cushion and I fight back a moan that wants to rumble up my throat. His sheer size makes me feel dainty, and the way he looks at me makes me feel sexy in a way I’ve never experienced before.
His tongue explores every inch of my mouth as I do the same. My hands run over his wide shoulders and down his back. His fingers slip up inside my sweater and I shiver as they tickle up towards my bare breasts.
My back arches as his warm palm covers my sensitive skin, and the moan I’ve been holding back rips from my throat.
His Cherry Blossom (The May Flowers Series) Page 1