Blue Roses(11)

She snorts with laughter. “You don’t know, do you?”

I growl into the phone, “MEENIE!”

She growls back, “TEENIE.”

“You’re not going to tell me, are you?”

“I’m going back to sleep. Have a nice day!”

She’s gone.

I put my phone away and pull out the box of phone numbers for suppliers. I need to get more flowers in before our regular Friday delivery.

The door chimes, and in walks Luca Lowell. With the grin on his face, he’s the walking embodiment of Mr. Tall Smug and Handsome.

“You’re welcome,” he says.

I wave at the empty shelves. “You did this? I should have known.”

He comes up and leans on the counter casually. He hasn’t shaved in a few days, and he’s got reddish brown hair dotting his square jaw. I’m hit with the urge to run my fingers through his wavy brown hair, where it curls around his ear. There’s something about his scruffiness that makes me want to touch him, even more than when he’s clean-shaven.

“Put that away,” he says, pointing to the supplier cards in my hands. “Your sister already super-sized the new order that’s coming in Friday morning. She’s a funny one, your sister.”

“Megan?” I snort. “Real funny.”

“She told me your nicknames are Teenie and Meenie. That’s just about the cutest thing I’ve ever heard, and I’m not a man who uses the word cutest lightly.”

“Sounds like you and Megan are best friends now. What happened here yesterday after I left?”

He scratches his scruffy chin, acting comfortable and casual around me. I, however, am standing tall and rigid with my arms crossed sternly.

He explains, “All my guys have been working hard to get the renovation done. Their wives and girlfriends haven’t been too happy. Yesterday, I told them they could knock off early. But only if they swung by here and picked up something to bring home.”

“They cleaned us out.”

He chuckles and looks over the empty shelves. “I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s a baby boom nine months from now.”

“Well, thank you. Gardenia Flowers appreciates the business.”

“You’re welcome. Grab your purse. Do you like omelets, or waffles?”

I blink up at Luca’s blue eyes. Is he inviting me out for breakfast?

“Come on,” he says. “Your sister said you could. You don’t have any flowers to sell, so put a sign on the door, and let’s go get some breakfast. I haven’t eaten at Delilah’s yet, and I hear it’s good.”

My mouth waters a little.

“Okay,” I say.

I quickly write up a sign for the door and lock up.

Luca starts walking in the wrong direction.

“Delilah’s is up this way,” I say.

“I’ve got a lot to learn.” He turns and catches up with me easily, thanks to his long strides.

The guy must be six foot three, at least. I’m not short, but I feel short next to him. I’m five foot nine, which is an inch shorter than standard height for models.

I did some modeling in my early teens, just for local malls and catalogs. I really thought I might have a career in modeling, but then I stopped growing. Naturally, I did the exact opposite of modeling, and got into wrestling.

I catch our reflection in the shop windows we pass by. We look like we could be a couple.

He’s wearing his usual boots and jeans. I’m wearing my favorite sandals, with leggings and a long tunic-style shirt that covers my butt. The shirt is teal, and I’m wearing it with a green belt. Teal makes my green eyes look closer to blue, so I wear this color a lot.

I’m only thinking about my clothes because Luca keeps looking over at me. His mouth moves, like he’s on the verge of saying something about how I look, but he stops short of commenting.

What he doesn’t know is that ever since he first walked into the flower store a few weeks ago, I’ve stepped up my game. Instead of throwing on shorts and whatever shirt isn’t wrinkled, I spend time picking out clothes. Just in case he comes in.

He grins at me. “You’re thinking about something good,” he says. “You’ve got mischief all over your face.”

I rub my stomach. “Just thinking about waffles.”

We arrive at Delilah’s. The restaurant is impossible to miss, with its eight-foot-tall teapot perched high above the door. The building sits on the corner of the block, and is a local landmark.

We walk in, and the waitress seats us in a big corner booth. This booth is normally reserved for larger parties, but the place is quiet since it’s Thursday morning. On the weekend, the brunch lineup practically circles the block.