Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 97369 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97369 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Same Milo, just … more.
Bulkier muscles.
Thicker beard, but still well-kept.
Sexy jeans.
Same hat.
And that smile.
It was all too much.
“Can I hug you?”
Gah! I couldn’t hug him.
I’ve never been able to hug Milo Odell and willingly let him go. And today would not have been the exception.
“Hello? Earth to Indie?”
I glance up at Lincoln, my elbows on the counter and my face cradled in my hands. “Huh?”
He laughs. “I asked if you could make one more delivery?”
“Sure.”
“What are you thinking about?”
I shake my head and stand straight. “Nothing. I just saw an old friend at the hospital.”
He lifts an eyebrow, removing the thorns from the roses. “Should I be jealous?”
“No. Why would you ask that?”
“Because of that look on your face.”
“What look?” I check the delivery on the counter for a card.
“It’s the look you have after sex.”
“What?” It’s my turn to blush.
“Listen, I know what we have is casual, but I’m not seeing anyone else, so if you—”
“I’m not seeing anyone else. And I didn’t have sex with my friend at the hospital. That’s just weird. And the answer to your question is no, you shouldn’t be jealous.”
“You sure?”
I lift onto my toes and kiss his soft cheek, inhaling his rose scent. “Positive.”
Lie. Lies. Liar.
“Can I see you tonight?”
Lincoln’s jealous whether he should be or not, and he has a primal male urge to claim me. I don’t blame him, but I can’t be with him tonight after seeing Milo Odell. I need a minute to gather my thoughts about our encounter. Sort through these complicated feelings.
“Sorry. Girls’ night.”
“Since when?” He frowns.
“Since I invited my girlfriends out for drinks.” I grin and head toward the door with the final delivery for the day. “See you in the morning.”
“I’m available tonight … even if it’s late.”
Yep. He needs to mark his territory.
“Okay. But really … I’ll see you in the morning.”
It hasn’t been easy, but I’ve found a life.
A job.
Friends.
And friends with benefits.
I’ve found intimacy, and I even allowed myself to enjoy it.
So why am I so miserable? It’s been three weeks. I should have hugged him, I think. Or at least given him my phone number so he could call me and … what? Tell me about his marriage?
Seeing Milo didn’t set my heart back four years. It didn’t rip open every scar. But it tore a few small holes, leaving me bleeding again. I’m not sure I can walk away from him with my heart completely unscathed.
“Bailey’s not coming in today, so I have to set up for the wedding,” Lincoln grumbles about his sister, scuffing his feet along the floor and sipping his coffee.
“Good morning to you too.” I arrange the last bouquet for the outdoor stand.
He gives me a half grin. “Sorry. I hate weddings. That’s all.” He stares through the glass doors of the refrigerator. “Wow. The bride’s bouquet looks …”
I smile. “Like a work of art? I completed it at six this morning.”
“I was going to say it looks like I might keep you around after all.” He turns and cozies up behind me, arms around my waist, face in my neck. “Now, if I could just convince you to stay over at my place. It’s been forever.”
I giggle and squirm; his unshaven face tickles my neck. “It hasn’t been forever.”
“Nearly a month.”
I roll my eyes. “Three weeks. And I see you’re keeping count. Should I be worried that you don’t know what casual means?”
He sips his coffee and raises an eyebrow. “No. I think it’s you who’s keeping count. You might be a little too casual.”
With a shrug, I redirect my gaze to the last bouquet. “I track my period. That’s all.”
“And are you having your period?”
With a laugh, I carry the bouquet outside and place it in the last slot on the display. “You never ask a woman about her period.”
“Fine. Then I’ll ask you to help me load the van and give me a quickie before I have to leave and you have to flip the open sign.”
“Can’t …” I open the fridge door to help load the wedding flowers. “I’m on my period.”
“You’re so sadistic,” he grumbles while I giggle.
Lincoln spends the morning setting up for the wedding across town, and I watch the shop, take last-minute orders, and call in Russ, Lincoln’s retired dad, to make today’s deliveries.
“It’s just three today. They’re all in the box on the counter. Thanks, Russ,” I say when the door chimes.
Russ doesn’t respond.
I pull off my gloves and turn toward the front of the store. “You’re not Russ.”
Milo removes his hat and grins. “Not to my knowledge. I’m just a guy who’s visited every floral shop in Dallas over the past three weeks.” He glances around and back out the front door. “You’re not exactly in the safest part of town.”
My heart’s doing that happy dance that makes it hard to speak, that makes me sound breathless. “Cheap rent,” I manage to say without a full-on dog pant.