Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 80892 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 404(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80892 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 404(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Clearly, a first-time customer.
I hurriedly put away the mess of papers I’d strewn across Henry’s desk while looking for the phone number and walked out to greet the stranger. Not only did I want to make sure the new customer was taken care of, but—if I was being honest? —yeah, I wanted to get a better look at just how hot this mystery guy really was.
Of course, I would give the man the same level of service no matter what he happened to look like. From a business standpoint, it didn’t matter at all. But from a still-a-virgin standpoint, from a maybe-probably-almost-definitely-gonna-use-his-face-for-inspiration-later standpoint?
It mattered.
It mattered a lot.
And the closer I got to the backlit shape of the new customer, the more my suspicions of hotness were confirmed.
The man was half-turned away from me, looking at an enormous arrangement of sunflowers I had made on a particularly chilly day the week before. It had made me think of summer when I’d put it together—still a few months away—and even I had to admit it was quite eye-catching.
“Don’t those sunflowers make you feel nice and warm?” I asked. I grinned as I came around the counter, trying and failing not to think of all the other ways I might make this particular customer feel nice. And warm. “Welcome to Patty’s Petals. I’m—”
Whatever I’d been about to say died in my throat as the man finally turned to face me. His intense brown eyes pinned me to the floor where I stood.
The stranger was drop-dead sexy—gorgeous, in a rough, rugged sort of way. Yet, the flicker of recognition between us made my throat close and sent off all kinds of alarm bells in my head.
“Thank you,” the man said, quirking an eyebrow but still not taking his eyes off mine. “You must be Joe.”
Oh, damn.
Damn, damn, damn.
I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out. I shut it again with an audible snap and nodded instead.
The man extended his hand, and I shook it, trying to remember to smile… even though it felt like I might throw up or pass out instead.
Despite the haze of the past month, the memory of this man’s face—and his build, his profile, his demeanor—suddenly stood out from the blur of everything else. I had seen him before.
When I finally found my voice again, it was faint, almost like a whisper.
“And you’re Brady.”
Henry’s son was the sexiest man I had ever seen… and absolutely the last one I should be thinking that about, given that he was also my new boss and quite literally held my future happiness in his hands.
His big, strong, calloused hands that felt amazing on mine.
Chapter Six - Brady
Joe’s a woman?!
I knew that I might be holding onto Joe’s hand a little longer than was absolutely necessary for a business handshake, but I couldn’t help it. When I’d seen the look, the heat in her eyes—and that sexy little nervous grin—it had taken every ounce of self-control I possessed not to let my mind wander in directions that were definitely unprofessional.
Before walking through the door, I hadn’t put much thought into who my dad’s employees were—I hadn’t put any thought at all into it, actually.
I’d known from a few brief conversations with my dad’s old accountant that there were a couple of people who worked at the flower shop. And even though I thought I might have met them briefly at the funeral, for the most part, they’d just been a couple of names that popped up on the reports I’d skimmed. Faceless entities, as far as I had been concerned.
And it wasn’t that I didn’t care, necessarily. It was just that I had about as much interest in who was running my dad’s shop as I had in any other aspect of it. In other words, none.
Now, though?
Yeah, I was definitely interested. Very interested.
Joe wasn’t faceless anymore. She was bright and sunny and sexy, and she took my breath away.
She was… beautiful.
Absolutely beautiful.
Reluctantly, I let her hand go, even though the part of me that wanted to say “fuck being professional” noted the fact that she hadn’t seemed in much of a hurry to end the handshake, either.
But this was about business, and as my eyes tracked every little movement the woman made, I couldn’t help but think of how different the vibrant girl was, compared to what I would have expected if I’d given it any thought.
An employee like Joe, so vibrant and happy and obviously female, flew in the face of everything I remembered about my stern, no-nonsense father.
It had been Henry’s rough, gruff, seemingly uncaring demeanor that had kept me from ever opening up and talking about my life or the girls I dated.
While never overtly a misogynist, Henry Davis was literally the last person I could’ve imagined working so closely with someone who seemed so completely my father’s opposite in every way.