The moment Lily opened the front door and the chilly air hit her, she wished she’d grabbed her jacket before leaving. Her black knit dress with bell sleeves didn’t provide enough warmth even with the Hermes scarf loosely draped around her neck. She rubbed her arms and tried to ignore the slight ache in her temples from being awakened by a recurrent nightmare last night. Short on sleep and not happy about wearing too high stilettos for a date that wasn’t happening tonight, she headed toward the worker.
Oblivious to her advance, he worked steadily, not looking up once to acknowledge her when she was a few feet away.
“Excuse me,” she called out. “Can I have a word with you?”
He stopped in mid-action and watched her approach. When she reached his side, he set down the crate and wiped his brow with his forearm, the action drawing her attention to his flexed biceps. He pushed his mirrored aviators up into his tousled dark hair and peered at her curiously. A trace of scruff lined his sharp jaw and corded neck.
Sucking in a startled breath, Lily stared into exotic dark eyes rimmed by dense, inky lashes. His intense gaze made every cell in her body jump like an agitated puppy. It had to be his whipcord strength and the way he stood with strong hands on hip bones exposed by the low-slung jeans that made her forget why she was standing there gaping at him.
“Can I help you?” he prompted, taking a step toward her.
“I…uhhh…” She abruptly stepped backward and staggered as her stiletto heel got lodged between the concrete sidewalk slabs. He reached out and when his callused fingertips touched her wrist, a jolt zinged through her so powerfully, she stumbled again, her arms flailing like Kermit the Frog.
“Hey, take it easy. You OK?” He took hold of her wrists and steadied her before releasing her gently.
“Yes, I’m OK,” she managed, embarrassed by her clumsiness. She yanked her foot up, but the damned heel remained lodged in the sidewalk. With a muffled curse, she bent over and carefully pulled the pump out, but to her dismay the leather on the heel had gotten badly scraped.
There went her splurge shoes. Hopefully, she could get them repaired. This was turning out to be a costly and crappy day. The only reason she’d worn them was for her third date tonight with Nathan, but he’d cancelled at the last minute leaving her in uncomfortable shoes for the rest of the day. Note to self – keep a pair of flats at work.
Thick brows lowered over searching eyes. “Are you sure you’re OK?” When she nodded, he said, “Why do you wear such high heels?” His gaze swept the length of her legs. “They look nice on you, but they’re bad for your knees.”
What did he know about knees? Bristling, Lily yanked down the hem of her skirt to shield her legs from his interested gaze. With a toss of her blonde hair, she shot him a withering look.
“I’m not here to discuss my shoes with you,” she said in an even tone.
Bemused, he looked her up and down. “What do you want then?”
She straightened to her full 5’5” of height. Her stiletto heels brought her to 5’8”, but she was still shorter than him by far. “I own the perfume shop next door.” Not entirely true, but if all worked out, Fleur Perfumery would be hers by the end of the year.
He raised a skeptical brow. “I thought it belonged to Madame Beaulieu,” he said, surprising Lily with his accurate French inflection.
“It does, but I’m going to inherit it soon.” How on earth did the worker know her aunt’s name? And why was she answering his nosy questions?
“Is Madame ill?” he said as if he knew Aunt Simone.
“No, she’s fine. I didn’t come here to discuss my aunt’s health, which is excellent.”
He scratched his neck. “Madame is your aunt?” He eyed her as if anything she said was suspect.
Ignoring his last question, she changed the subject. “Do you know whose car is in my spot?”
“Which one?”
“The one behind my shop,” she replied in a voice that said it was obvious. The spots weren’t labeled, but anyone could’ve guessed it didn’t belong to the restaurant that was about to open next door. “I had to park a block away this morning and walk over,” she said, trying to keep her voice even-keeled.
“In those heels?” he cut in with a dubious shake of his head. “No wonder you’re cranky.”
“I am not cranky.” She punctuated her words with a haughty lift of her chin, which made his lips twitch. She didn’t appreciate the irony in his tone or the way his gaze traveled the length of her legs from bare knees to ankles. It hadn’t been fun to maneuver the long block to work in stilettos, and she’d been standing in them all day.
Her feet ached, and her beautiful pumps were ruined. Truth be told, she was cranky, but she wasn’t going to admit it to the him.
“Whatever you say.” His indulgent tone only added to her grumpy mood.
“Is your boss here?”
“My boss?” He gave a nonchalant shrug. “I guess so.”
“I want to speak to him.”
“About what? He’s busy.”
Why was he playing gatekeeper? She planted her hands on her hips. “The parking space he’s been using is mine.”
“Maybe it was empty when he arrived.”
“It was only empty this morning because I ran late and—”
“Why did you run late?”
“That’s none of your business.” He sure was cheeky. She ran late because her car wouldn’t start, and she had to get it jumpstarted. Good thing Belinda had arrived early and opened the shop for her. “Tell him to stay out of my parking spot. Please,” she added when she realized she’d snapped at him.
He leaned forward and peered at her with open curiosity. “Anything else?”
“Yes.” She gestured from the truck to the boarded-up building and back to him. The sooner he got the job finished, the sooner normalcy would return to their beautiful block. “I want to know when the drilling and pounding will be over. All the commotion is bad for business, and the loud noise is jarring. When will your work be finished?”
“Soon.” He looked heavenward and back to her. “Sorry it’s bothering your delicate sensibilities.”
The sardonic curve of his lips and his complacent tone irked her. So, he found her amusing? Mr. Habanero needed to know she meant business.
“You don’t need delicate sensibilities to hear the drilling,” she said through stiff lips. “Are you the foreman?”
“You could say that.” He straightened, and his chest expanded with pride. He stood before her with legs outspread and arms folded across his powerful torso. “I’m also the owner,” he announced.
Lily snorted. “You’re the owner?”
“I am,” he said in an authoritarian tone that defied her to doubt him.
“Why didn’t you say so in the first place?” she demanded.
His lips lifted in amusement. “You didn’t ask.”
“That’s not funny. What’s your name?” She was going to Google him as soon as she got back to her shop.
“I’m Gabe Falcon.” He extended his hand.
She stared at his outstretched palm and really didn’t want to shake it, but it would be rude not to. Plus, if she refused, she’d get off on the wrong foot with the owner of the business next door to hers. She gingerly held out her hand, and the second his rough-skinned palm touched her soft one, a slow, spine-tingling shiver wracked her from head to toe. She gasped as heat seeped from his large hand into hers. Never in her life had she touched a hand quite so…so hard and tough…and hot at first contact. It was too intimate by far.
She snatched her hand back and uttered through tight lips, “What kind of restaurant are you opening?”
“Mexican. Are you familiar with Gabe’s Grub food trucks?”
Lily nodded. Anyone who loved to eat was familiar with Gabe’s Grub trucks. From the moment one of them had parked itself in Celebration Park, it had gained an ardent following of foodies who didn’t mind driving out to North Naples to nosh on the finest po
rk tacos and authentic Mexican food in the area. She’d heard there was another truck in nearby Bonita Springs too.
“The trucks are mine,” he said proudly. “I’m expanding my business with this restaurant.”
She closed her eyes to let the news sink in. When she opened them, her eyes locked with his. “You’re not keeping the same name…are you?”
“Nope. Grub wouldn’t sound right for 5th Avenue. I’m naming it Tequila Sunset.”
“That’s better.”
“Glad you think so.”
Was he mocking her? “Good. There’s nothing more for me to say here. Good day.”
“Thanks. You too, Petunia.”
Petunia? Lily’s eyes snapped open. “Did you just call me Petunia?” When he nodded, she said, “Why?”
“Doesn’t fleur mean flower in French?”
“It does.” So, he spoke a bit of French. La-di-da.
“Petunias are pretty flowers.” He paused. “But they’re also petulant.”
“Petulant my ass,” she muttered, and had the satisfaction of seeing his eyebrows shoot up. “For your information, my name is Lily.”
“Ah, Lily.” He put his hand on his chin and considered for a moment. “It suits you. A delicate, white blossom. Do you ever go to the beach?” he asked, eyeing her pale arms.
“Yes, but only at sunrise and sunset.” Her fair skin couldn’t take the midday sun without getting burned.
His head tilted as he squinted against the setting sun that framed her back. The crinkles at the corners of his eyes only made him look hotter. “Interesting. Most gringas love to bake in the sun,” he murmured.
“Now you’re stereotyping. For your information, I don’t bake in the sun because of my fair skin.”
A smile teased the corners of his mouth. “Good decision. You shouldn’t burn such fine skin.”
Lily remained silent as his dark-as-sin eyes connected with hers.
“Let’s start over,” he said.
“Why? I think you’ve said enough.”
“Because we’re going to be neighbors…and friends, I hope,” he continued amiably. One side of his mouth quirked revealing a wicked dimple and strong, white teeth. His lop-sided grin and the devilry in his gleaming espresso eyes were going to be the death of her. “That is, if you can quit scowling at me.
The throb in her temples intensified. “I am not scowling.”
“Coulda fooled me. Is that your normal expression then, fresa?”
“Why are you calling me a strawberry?” She might not be fluent in Spanish, but she knew enough of it from college.
“Fresa means something else in Mexico.” When she remained silent, he said, “Don’t you want to know what it is?”
“No.” Lily’s eyes narrowed into mordant slits. She hated being teased, especially by men. It brought painful memories of her father’s taunts when she was little.
She felt her throat close up as a long-ago affliction reared up. Her ears burned as she tried to form a smooth retort and not choke on the words, but there was no guarantee her words would flow in a smooth, coherent sentence. Heart thumping, she stood before him, not daring to speak. The last thing she wanted was to stutter and give him the upper hand.
“Hey, I was just teasing. You can call me naco if it makes you feel better.” He waited for her reply, but she couldn’t bring herself to utter a word.
After an awkward, long moment, she pivoted on her damaged heel, jaw clamped, back straight and shoulders pushed together. Head held high, she stormed away, glad she’d worn Spanx to smooth any telltale jiggle. He was probably checking out her behind. Most Latin men did that when a girl walked by, she knew it for a fact.
She quickened her pace when she heard his low chuckle. Ohhh, how she would love to deck him or stomp on his big foot or…or…do something evil that would annihilate him! He was infuriating and insufferable.
He was also hotter than a habanero, as Belinda had aptly declared.
Worst of all, he’d gotten the last word in because she hadn’t trusted herself to speak without stuttering, something she’d worked hard to conquer since childhood.
Click the link to read SCENT OF LOVE
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About the Author
New York Times & USA Today bestselling author, Sophia Knightly cooks up hot romance and delicious humor in her sexy contemporary romances that pair hot, alpha heroes with strong, smart women and throw them on a challenging emotional journey. Published by St. Martin's Press, Kensington, and Samhain Publishing, her popular Tropical Heat Series and Heartthrob Series have consistently been on multiple best selling lists.
Sophia loves writing books that end with a sigh and a smile. In addition to traveling, foodie adventures, and enjoying the arts in all forms, one of her favorite pastimes is simply watching people--especially those in love!
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FALCONS IN LOVE - Each book is a standalone
Scent of Love
The Holiday Sweet Spot
BEACH READ SERIES - Each book is a standalone.
Grill Me, Baby
Blame it on Romeo
TROPICAL HEAT SERIES - Each book is a standalone.
Wooed by You - Linc and Isabel
Wild for You - Clay and Marisol
Sold on You - Marcos and Gabriela
Kissed by You - Alex and Georgina
Loved by You - Roman and Piper
HEARTTHROB SERIES - Each book is a standalone.
Heart Raider - Nick and Veronique
Heart Melter - Ian and Natasha
Heart Tamer - Alec and Kate
Heart Hunter - Cameron and Evie
Heart Tempter - Leo and Teddy
Heart Stealer - Stone and Ivy
The Holiday Sweet Spot: An opposites attract, gorgeous, feel-good romantic comedy (Falcons in Love Book 2) Page 18