Damn it.
He’d tried not to think about the blonde spitfire who’d consumed most of his teenage thoughts. She’d been so incredibly sweet most of the time. Unless someone pissed her off. She’d been placid until someone either bullied a person who was vulnerable or smaller. Then the spitfire would come out, and there was no stopping her on the warpath. Those blue eyes of hers, angry and ready to hurt whoever she set her sights on.
Of course, he’d never gotten the chance to ask her out.
Eliza had no parents. At least from what he’d heard, she’d been left in an old trailer at the age of three. She was never fed, rarely clothed, and it was only when her aunt Betty went to see her sister that she realized what had happened. Eliza had been abandoned. Her parents didn’t even care enough to put her into foster care or take her to someone who loved her.
From that moment on, Aunt Betty, the florist, became her mother, her guardian, her everything.
He shouldn’t have even known as much as he did, but he was obsessed with Eliza.
“And I didn’t ask her to prom.”
“Did she even go to prom?” Caleb asked.
“No, she didn’t.” She’d stayed at home with her aunt Betty. He’d ended up going to the prom on his own and leaving early. It had been so incredibly lame. Now, he was here thinking about her again.
“I like Eliza. She’s sweet. You could do worse, son,” Jane said. “Yeah, I can see her as a daughter-in-law.”
“Mom, seriously, there’s no way anything like that is even happening. It’s not going to happen. I can promise you that.”
“And why can you promise me that?”
James looked at his mother, a little perplexed.
“Because that would involve him having to talk to her, am I right?” Rome asked.
He would gladly be an only child.
“And James gets all tongue-tied around beautiful women, and he thinks she’s so beautiful.”
“Shut the fuck up.” James got to his feet. “I’ve got work to do and it doesn’t involve sitting around all day listening to you two.”
“Would it help if I added this?” Caleb asked, lifting his hand to his face, kissing and making out with it.
“That’s enough,” Theodore said, but James was already out the door.
He had to work. After running down the steps, he walked over to his bike, secured his helmet, and straddled his machine.
He loved to drive in the truck his father got him for his eighteenth birthday, but there was something about riding his bike. This was his first purchase after moving out of his folks’ home. He always came on Saturday for breakfast as his mother hated the house to be empty, but he lived a couple of miles from them, near town.
Most of the time, he didn’t wear a helmet, but if his mother ever caught sight of him, she’d pitch a fit, and he wasn’t going to give her a reason to be pissed.
Eliza was back in town. He hadn’t seen her yet, but he’d heard about her arrival. She had no idea he had the biggest crush on her, and he doubted she ever would. There was no way she would even look at him. Being a Hard boy, he’d gained a reputation with the women long before he’d even thought about falling for her.
They were men who worked hard, played even harder, and well, they were all good in bed. He knew he could make her scream if she only gave him the chance. He’d blow her mind with what he could do with his tongue.
His cock ached just thinking about her.
Damn it.
He was a grown-ass man.
He shouldn’t be thinking about a woman he hadn’t seen in years. It was fucking wrong.
****
“It was lovely to have your business.” There was a pause as the door opened and closed. “And I hope those thorns hurt as she throws them at you, you disgusting fucking pig.”
“Aunt Betty!” Eliza laughed as she finished putting the last of the flowers in a vase and turned to look at her only relative. “He was a paying customer.”
“Clint is an asshole of high proportion. Never, and I mean, never ever, give a man a chance. He will take you, chew you up, spit you back out, and fuck with your head.”
“You know, it surprises me how I’ve been able to survive when you talk like that.”
“It’s a gift, honey. A complete and total gift. I curse in life so you don’t have to.”
Eliza laughed, leaning over the counter. “What did Clint ever do to you? Not call?”
“Believe it or not, I never had anything to do with him. I just know he’s left a trail of women in his wake and he always comes in here, wanting the best flowers. Up until a couple of years ago, he tried to negotiate the price. Now, I inflate it just for him.” Aunt Betty smiled. “You did good with the arranging.”