Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76456 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76456 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
“Hey, sweetheart,” I said, dipping my head to one side, shooting her a smile that should have been able to charm off her panties.
Then again, of course, I still had her panties in my car glove compartment, didn’t I? From where I’d fished them off the ground and stashed them into my pocket.
I should have left them in the bathroom laundry bin.
But I didn’t do that.
I couldn’t say why. It wasn’t like I was one of those guys who sniffed panties or some shit. I guess I just wanted to have a piece of her with me or something. Even though that didn’t make any sense. I wasn’t a guy who kept souvenirs of their conquests.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, voice a little breathless. And at that moment, I thought it was a mix of surprise and pleasure.
“I was supposed to meet with Dennis at his house, but he didn’t show. So I figured I would drop in here to see if he’s around.”
“He’s not here,” she said, the words rushing out, tumbling over one another.
“Well, then maybe I will just… hang with you for a while,” I offered, taking a step closer.
“No!” The sound burst out of her, frantic and forceful, making me stop in my tracks.
“No?” I asked, brows drawing together.
“No. I have so much work to do. I can’t have any distractions. I, ah, I have to do all the flower arrangements for the inn. It takes hours. And I’m already behind because of, uhm, being busy here today.”
Busy?
It seemed dead.
Was she lying to me?
Trying to rush me out of the store?
But why?
As far as I could tell, we’d left things on good terms that morning.
Then again, maybe dipping out when I did had been a mistake.
Clearly, Mere wasn’t like the usual woman I fucked around with. In fact, she wasn’t really the type of woman who fucked around at all, was she?
Had she been hurt by my leaving? Or thought I was done with her?
Then spent the next few hours overthinking it?
It seemed possible.
Probable, even, judging by her behavior.
“Sweetheart…” I tried again, laying the charm on thick, trying to take a step forward.
“Really. You need to go,” she said, rushing forward a few steps, pressing her hand into my chest and pushing me backward.
She wasn’t strong enough to actually push me, but my surprise had me following her lead until I found myself standing beside the door.
Her other hand shot out, reaching for the door, finding it locked, then fumbling with the lock, so she could yank it over.
“Mere,” I tried again, voice soft, my hand reaching out, trying to touch her face.
“Cesare, I’m busy,” she snapped, her tone so sharp that I swear it left fucking gashes.
Then I was out on the sidewalk, and she was on the other side of the door.
I was too stunned to do anything other than walk to my car, to get inside, to take my bruised fucking ego and head back to the house.
Some time later, when shit was hitting the fan, and I was trying to figure out what went wrong and why and how, I would remember it.
The look on her face.
Pure, undiluted fear.
And the fact that as soon as I was outside, she not only shut the door once again but turned the lock back into place.
At the time, though, all I saw was a woman who had literally pushed me away, shoved me out of her business, out of her life.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Mere
Everything was fine.
Until, of course, it wasn’t.
My morning went predictably.
I opened up the shop, doing a quick clean, then after helping one particularly bereft young man who had “epically fucked up” with his girlfriend, I went into the back to prepare all the flowers for the inn, playing around with some different, but still long-lasting and low maintenance flowers.
I would like to say that my brain wasn’t constantly flooded with thoughts of Cesare. But that would be an outright lie.
I couldn’t help but obsess over it.
Why had he departed so quickly?
Was that all he wanted from me?
And, if so, why?
I mean… he’d gotten nothing out of it.
Was that the problem? Had I not been quick enough in reciprocating? But, like, Vega was just a few feet away, about to emerge at any point. I couldn’t exactly have her walking out to me on my knees in front of him, could I?
Maybe he thought I could.
Maybe he didn’t care who might see him doing dirty things.
“Ugh,” I grumbled as I put the last of the arrangements into the walk-in, knocking my head into one of the wire racks gently, feeling the cool against my flushed skin.
Maybe I should have engaged Vega more in the conversation she’d clearly wanted to have over breakfast and then all through the drive into town.
She wasn’t used to me having a guy in my life, so she’d been understandably buzzing with all the questions she wanted to ask.