Total pages in book: 42
Estimated words: 39840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 199(@200wpm)___ 159(@250wpm)___ 133(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 39840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 199(@200wpm)___ 159(@250wpm)___ 133(@300wpm)
Hey, it happens.
He gets a pained expression, only confusing me more when he looks as lost as I feel.
“Just the flowers,” he echoes back. And I really can’t tell if it’s a statement or a question.
Men!
Grrrrr.
If only he’d just say exactly what he wants.
If only I had the courage to do the same.
CHAPTER SIX
James
Flowers?
She thinks I’m here to just buy flowers?
Well… that kinda was the idea at first.
After knowing how it feels to see her upset, and after I acted like such a moron earlier, I struggle to say anything when she asks me.
I feel tongue-tied for the first time in my life and blurt out that I’d like some flowers. Usually, I speak plainly and clearly to everyone I meet. I know what I want and have no problems stating my case. I am an expert at verbalizing my thoughts.
Usually.
But with Jasmine… ah, shit. I don’t know. She turns me to mush inside. All I want to do is reach out and hold her… and never let her go.
Tell her things I’ve never felt about anyone. Tell her what I feel like doing to her, but more than just tell her.
I’d prefer to show her what I mean.
But to start over now by telling her how I really feel? That would make me look and sound way crazier than I acted a while ago.
So how about it, Jasmine? I whisk you away to my penthouse in the clouds. You bounce on my cock for a year and I stick a baby in ya. I look after you forever and ever, so you never have to worry about anything ever again.
It’s how I feel.
It’s what I want, but if I come out and say it now, she’d probably call the fucking cops.
I mean, what kind of girl wants to hear that from a guy like me?
Especially someone who must be half my age.
I’m already at risk of screwing this up for the second time today if I don’t do or say something. Just opening my mouth, I hope for the best.
I have to find out if she’s interested in a guy like me. I mean, she could have her pick of any guy she wants. Look at her! Men probably hit on her all the time.
But the clang of that brass bell followed by the sound of a crowd at the tiny florist shop breaks my moment.
It doesn’t break my mood, though, and Jasmine, being the quick-witted girl she is, lets the few new customers know she’ll be right with them.
After she’s finished with me.
Good girl.
Now. Keep a lid on things, James. Don’t go acting all funny again because of people near Jasmine.
I feel my jaw tighten. And glancing to my right, I see a group of older ladies in tracksuits and plastic coats as they file in noisily. Some kind of neighborhood elderly walk-in-the-rain club, I guess.
But they’re making for the reduced-price plant rack, so I have some time to present my case.
I watch her, almost spellbound, as she deftly selects the best flower from each bunch she has. She arranges them quickly in a way that brings out the best in them, or is it because I’d think it was amazing if she did absolutely anything?
Jasmine could belch in my face, and I’d still get a freakin’ hard-on.
Everything she does is just like her… perfect.
“There we go!” she says aloud, admiring her handiwork with a little nod and a small smile of satisfaction.
I can feel my already pounding pulse quicken some more, knowing it’s almost time to reach out and take the flowers, anxiously anticipating to chance a touch from those fingers against mine.
Now, it feels like that’s all it would take to make the volcano in my pants erupt and get down on all fours with her. Right fucking here in the store and howl like a wild animal in front of these elderly rain walkers.
But my overprotective feelings for her are matched by the need to go slow. I almost ruined it once. There’s too much at stake to risk it again.
“How much do I owe you?” I hear myself ask, noticing that her own look and tone are different somehow. Like she’s all business or something.
Or maybe really just not interested. She’s a people person, and I see that.
Maybe I’m just having some midlife crisis, wanting to be twenty again because my hormones are all outta whack. I read about it somewhere recently.
“Oh, these are on the house,” she says quickly, making me give her a sidelong glance.
Glad to see that smile of hers again, but I didn’t come back for flowers. If I have to buy her entire store out every day just to get to see her, I will. However, I won’t be expecting a handout either.
“It’s fine,” she assures me, signaling to the line of ladies who’ve picked their dollar plants that she’s coming.