“Well, you don’t appear to be busy right this second,” she said cheerfully. “So let’s make this deal now and I’ll get out of your hair. Unless you drive the delivery truck, you’ll never have to deal directly with me again.”
His jaw hardened. “There’s not going to be any deal, Bree. Not between us.”
She leveled a look directly into his eyes. “This is business, Jake. I’m not asking you to go out with me or to trust me or to have any kind of personal contact beyond whatever it takes to get this agreement on paper. It’s simple. I’m opening a flower shop. You sell flowers. It’s pretty cut-and-dried.”
“Nothing with us was ever simple or cut-and-dried,” he said, walking slowly around his desk to perch on the edge. Their knees were almost touching, hers bare, his clad in faded denim. “It’s bound to get complicated faster than the ink will dry on our agreement.”
She swallowed hard, but managed to keep her voice steady. “How so?”
He leaned forward, oh so slowly, until her pulse fluttered wildly at the nearness of his mouth. It hovered over hers. Their breath intermingled. Suddenly she wanted his lips on hers with an urgency that took her by surprise. Memories of a hundred other kisses—deep, tantalizing, soul-stirring kisses—swarmed in her head and left her dizzy. What had made her think for a single second that this kind of sizzle could be doused by simple determination?
As if he sensed her turmoil, he drew back, his expression smug. “See what I mean?”
Oh yeah, this definitely had complication written all over it. But she couldn’t let that stand in her way. She wouldn’t. Flowers on Main was going to be her fresh start. She’d do whatever it took to make it a success.
Jake had obviously made a success of his business. She’d been astonished by the size of the nursery, a little awed by everything she’d heard when she’d asked around about the best flower supplier in the region. Seeing it today with its greenhouse, outdoor displays of flats and flats of colorful plants, rows of flowering shrubs and trees, had been an eye-opener. This wasn’t the tiny Shores Nursery of old. Jake had expanded it beyond her wildest expectations. Given what he’d accomplished, surely he could understand why her new business mattered just as much to her.
“I need these flowers, Jake,” she said simply.
“Get them from someone else. There are other growers.”
“Everyone says you’re the best. And you’re the closest.”
“I’m also unavailable.”
“Are you speaking personally now, or professionally?”
He frowned at her flip attempt at humor. “Both, just to keep the record straight.”
“That kiss that almost happened said otherwise.”
“It didn’t happen, did it?”
“All that proves is that you’ve got great willpower. I’m duly impressed. In fact, a man with that much willpower surely won’t be tempted to ravish me just because I get a few posies from him every few days, so there’s really no reason not to deal with me, is there?”
“How about I don’t want to? Do you have an argument for that?”
“Because you’re scared,” she accused.
“Of you? Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Prove it.”
His eyes widened. “You’re making this a challenge?”
“Why not?” she asked with a careless shrug. “Let’s see if you’ve got what it takes to stay away from me, Jake. Make this deal. Deliver the flowers personally. And keep your hands to yourself. That will suit me just fine. I can prove I only care about business, and you can prove you’re over me. Sounds like a win-win to me.”
She saw him struggle with himself. He clearly wanted to show her that she no longer meant anything to him, that he was well and truly done with her. But he also knew he didn’t stand a chance of making good on it. Whatever there’d once been between them, it was still there. The air was practically humming with it.
And, based on the obvious inner struggle he was waging,
it apparently still had the power to rip his heart out for a second time. No wonder he wanted to stay as far away from her as humanly possible. She could hardly blame him. She was more than a little shaken at the moment herself. She was supposed to be mourning the end of her relationship with Marty, not stirring up old feelings with Jake.
“Okay,” he said at last. He moved behind the desk, shoved a few stacks of catalogs and papers aside, shuffled through another one and then handed her a form. “Fill out this credit application. Drop it off with Connie in the morning. I’ll waive the payable on delivery clause that’s standard for new customers for the first year. We’ll bill you every thirty days.”
“Don’t do me any favors,” she said.
“I’m not. I know your credit will check out. That’s all I care about. When are you opening?”
He was all business now, which should have made her ecstatic, but she couldn’t help being a little bit annoyed. She had to force herself to match his cool tone. “The first Saturday in September, in time for the Labor Day–weekend crowds.”
“I’ll see that you get your first delivery before nine o’clock that Friday morning. I’ll need to know what you want on the Monday before, earlier if there’s something that has to come from another grower. Connie will see that you have a list each week of what’s available. If you need deliveries more than once a week, we’ll adjust the schedule. Or you can come by here to get what you need to fill in.”
“Thank you.”
“Like you said, it’s business. Don’t read anything into it. Close the door on your way out.”
She frowned at the dismissal, but she knew better than to try to prolong the encounter. She’d gotten what she came for.
And then some.
Jake cursed when his hand actually shook as he reached for his phone after Bree was finally out of his office. He’d been dead serious earlier when he’d decided to drink his dinner, but he wanted company. A man who could still be rattled by an ex-lover six years after the breakup was pitiful enough without turning into a solitary drinker.
If he’d ever been the type to gravitate toward willing female companionship of the kind that didn’t ask questions or make demands, tonight would have been the night to seek out such a woman. Unfortunately, he’d never seen the value in simply hooking up. He’d always wanted more. He’d wanted what he’d had with Bree. Or what he’d thought he had, anyway.
That left him with Will and Mack. And when Mack turned out to be busy, it left him with Will.
“Ground rules,” he said tersely when they met in the bar at Brady’s. “No questions. No trying to psychoanalyze my mood. We are here to drink. Okay?”
Will gave him a knowing look. “You must have had one hell of a meeting with Bree today.”
Jake scowled at him. “No questions. Didn’t I make that clear?”
Will grinned. “You did. And if Ms. Davis, our English teacher, were here, she’d explain to you that the sentence I just uttered was a statement, not a question. Bree O’Brien is the only person I know who can put you into this kind of mood.”
Jake downed half his beer. “Okay, wise guy, I know I told you not to try to psychoanalyze my mood. I was very clear about that.”
“But this is so much fun,” Will retorted. “Your love life is much more interesting than watching the Orioles blow another lead, which they’re doing, by the way.” He gestured toward the TV above the bar, his expression mournful. “How can they do that night after night?”
“Because they’re having a lousy season,” Jake said, warming to the safe topic. “The pitching sucks. The bullpen’s worse.”
“Can’t argue with you there,” Will agreed just as Mack joined them.
Jake stared at him. “I thought you had a date.”
“It wasn’t a date,” Mack said, his expression sour.
“Which means he was out with Susie O’Brien again,” Will said.