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“All right, then.” I angled my head and smiled coyly. My left hand remained behind my back. “You won’t be disappointed.”

Goodness gracious. I
was
flirting.

Maybe it was just a way to keep my mind off my problems. Whatever it was, it felt good.

No, that wasn’t it. I had already fucked this man in my mind. More than once. My body was tingling with desire—a reaction I didn’t understand, because I’d never experienced it before. But I wanted to make my fantasies a reality.

I was driven, for the first time in my life, by carnal need.

I didn’t think,
no, it’s too soon to think about really fucking
him.
I didn’t think,
How could you even consider something like that?

Because let’s face it—I had had thought these thoughts for over three months now.

But he was here about business, and fantasies aside, I had to keep that in perspective. So I glanced away. Took a break from his hypnotic gaze.

After a moment, I faced him again. “I know you said money isn’t an object, but give me a cap.”

The man pursed his lips and looked upward as he thought about his answer. My own eyes went to the vee of his neck, and lower—to the section of his chest that was evident beneath his partially unbuttoned dress shirt.

I had a wicked image of me trailing my tongue across his skin….

“Can I get something spectacular for two hundred?”

I jerked my gaze to the left, hoping to hell he hadn’t caught me checking him out. “Absolutely.” My God, I felt flushed. “Two hundred will buy you way more than spectacular. Not that it’ll cost that much, but at least I know what your budget is.”

“When will it be ready?”

“When do you want to pick it up?”

“Sunday is fine. Oh, wait. Your sign said you’re closed on Sundays.”

“Because it’s Mother’s Day, I’m making an exception. I’ll be here from ten until two.”

“Is noon a good time to come by?”

“No problem.”

Again he stared at me, and I at him—as though we both wanted to say something else. Something that had nothing to do with business.

He finally broke the silence. “I’m Dion.”

He extended his right hand, and I grasped it. An electrical charge shot up my arm. “I’m Elsie.”

“I came in before,” Dion said. “A few months ago.”

“I remember you,” I told him—as if I hadn’t imagined his mouth and hands all over my body since that meeting. I released his palm, which I’d held just a little too long.

“My mother was in the hospital then, and I…I didn’t know how it was going to go. I was kind of a mess that day I came in here.”

“That’s understandable. I can only imagine how stressful that was.”

“But those dark days are over.”

I wondered if he would have come back before—if not for what his mother was going through. If he had felt the same inexplicable connection I had.

“So do you want me to pay now?”

“A deposit, yes. And let me take down your number. A way to reach you if by any chance you don’t show up.”

“Oh, I’ll be back.”

My heart pounded a little harder. Was I reading into it, or was there another meaning to his words than the obvious?

“Well.” I cleared my throat. “If you’ll come to the counter, I can take your deposit, and your information.”

I noticed Spike was regarding me curiously. I ignored him as I opened the order book to write down Dion’s name and phone number.

“If you want, I can add you to our mailing list,” I said. “Send you news of specials and such.”

Behind him, I saw Spike playfully roll his eyes.

“Why not?” Dion said.

“In that case, why don’t you fill out this card.” I handed him a blank address form and a pen. “Later, I’ll add you to my mailing list.”

“Sounds good.”

While he filled out the card, I caught Spike making suggestive expressions in the background. I didn’t know if he was simply checking Dion out, or teasing me for my flirtation.

When Dion passed me the completed address card, I handed him a business card. “So I’ll see you Sunday at noon?”

He took the card and looked at it briefly before meeting my gaze again. “Thank you, Elsie. I’ll see you Sunday at noon.”

I didn’t realize that I was standing motionless, watching Dion walk away, until Spike came up beside me.

“Mmm-mmm-mmm. That is one sexy man.”

I turned to gaze at him, giving him a lopsided grin. “He’s straight, Spike.”

“Oh, I know that, honey. He was looking you up and down like you were a hot, buttered biscuit.” Spike raised his eyebrows. Gave me that curious look again.

“What?” I asked, feeling as though he could see right through me.

“Other than the fact that there’s something you’re not telling me?”

Spike, like Sharon, was one of my best friends. The kind I could trust completely. I’d met him when he’d come into my shop looking for a job, shortly after I’d opened the new location in Cornelius. Despite having
no experience in the field, he’d seen my Help Wanted sign in the window and had been willing to learn. And more importantly, he’d been desperate for a job. Marcus, his partner of two years, had kicked him out of
his
house, leaving Spike destitute. Knowing a thing or two about what it was like to need a break, I’d hired him on the spot.

Over the course of the last five years, he’d become one of my closest friends. The kind you couldn’t keep anything from.

“You know me too well,” I said in response to his comment.

“Well?” He planted his hands on his hips as he stared at me. “Are you gonna tell me?”

The buzz I’d felt at seeing Dion again faded as grim reality came to the forefront of my mind. Sighing, I said, “I’m leaving Robert.”

I steeled myself, waited for Spike to say, “What took you so damn long?” But instead he put a hand on my back and asked, “How are you feeling, doll-face?”

My shoulders sagged, as if the weight of the world had just been lifted from them. “I…I don’t know.”

“You know I never felt Robert was right for you,” Spike said gently. “But this can’t have been an easy decision.”

He had never made his feelings about my marriage a secret. He’d never expressed anything negative about Robert as a person, but he did feel that my husband was too old for me, and that someone my age didn’t realistically have a future with a man who was nearly seventy. I’d respected his honesty. I knew other people
in my circle held that same view, but would never dare express their true opinion.

But given Sharon’s comment earlier, that she thought I was a different person when Robert was around, I wondered if there was more to Spike’s opinion about my marriage other than the age factor.

He squeezed my hand. “It’s for the best.”

“Why do you say that?”

“You know I always thought Robert was too old for you. He’s in the winter of his life, while you’re still enjoying the summer. At least you should be.” He gave me a pointed look. “And this whole talk about you wanting a baby… I just don’t see you having a child with a man who’s already raised his children and is now enjoying grandkids.”

I opened my mouth, but Spike shot a finger up, silencing me before I could speak.

“But the real reason I knew this day would come has nothing to do with children. You wouldn’t be the first person to have a baby with an old man. It might not be ideal, but it wouldn’t be the end of the world.”

“Let’s hear your insight.”

“Deep inside you, I know there’s a vibrant and exciting person. But I think being with Robert has killed that individual.”

“I’m not vibrant and exciting?” I said the words with a smile.

“You were vibrant while you were flirting with that hottie.”

“You thought I was flirting?” I asked sheepishly.

“Girl, please. You know you were flirting. And guess what? I approve.”

“He’s very cute.”

“That he is.”

Again, I thought about the timing of Dion’s return to my store. I didn’t typically believe in fate, but in this case, I felt it was at play.

“You don’t even know what Robert did,” I said, getting back to the unpleasant topic of my husband. “He lied to me, Spike. All this time I’ve been trying to get pregnant and he…he had a vasectomy,” I finished painfully.

“Oh. My. God.”

“Yeah.” I sniffled, feeling a wave of emotion.

“Oh, baby.” Spike put his arms around me and gave me a warm hug. “I’m so sorry.”

I pulled out of Spike’s embrace and reached for some tissue. “I knew something was wrong. Something was off between us. But I never expected that.”

“I’ve heard some devious things in my time, but that’s just wrong. That’s evil.”

Dabbing at my eyes, I nodded. “So here I am. About to start over.”

“But you’ll be okay,” Spike told me. “I already saw a different you when you were flirting. A spark I can’t say I’ve seen before. That’s what I meant when I said I know there’s a vibrant and exciting person inside you waiting to come out. Someone you can’t be with Robert.”

“Meaning?”

“All I ever hear you say when you’re with him is ‘Yes, dear. No, dear. Sure, Robert.’ When you’re with him,
you
are lost.” He gestured to my face and upper body, talking with his hands, as he often did. “It’s like you’re this beautiful butterfly who doesn’t know how to fly. Or a bird that’s had her wings clipped.”

I clasped my fingers together and held them in front of my face.

“Was that harsh, doll-face? I’m sorry.”

“No.” I shook my head. “Sharon pretty much said the same thing. Almost verbatim.”

Spike shrugged, as if to say he wasn’t surprised.

“Then I’ll ask you what I asked Sharon. Why did you never mention this before?”

“Girl, part of being smart is knowing when to bite your tongue. You think I wanted you going home to Robert, sharing my thoughts with him? Or throwing out my observations when you two were having a disagreement? Whatever decision you were going to come to, you needed to come to on your own.”

Exactly what Sharon had said.

Spike started toward the fridges. “Besides, Robert isn’t a man you want on your bad side.”

“Wait a minute.” I followed him. “Why would you say that?”

Spike opened a fridge door. “He’s rich. He’s powerful. He ran a successful Fortune 500 company. He was used to telling people what to do. Used to getting his own way. Probably had to be a little ruthless in the boardroom. You think I wanted him hearing I was saying he wasn’t the man for you? He’d probably force you to get rid of me. And you know this job means the world to me.”

“As if I’d ever get rid of you. Robert has no say over the running of this store. Sure, he bought it for me, but he stays out of the day-to-day operations.”

“That’s gonna change.” Spike turned back to the fridge.

I placed a hand on his arm, and he once again met my gaze. “What do you mean?”

“Because Robert’s used to being ruthless, used to being in control,” he said, echoing his earlier comments. “He’s not going to be happy that you’re leaving him.”

“He’s been through two divorces already.”

“And he hates his exes. You’ve told me that.”

It was true. Robert had nothing good to say about his ex-wives. He maintained some civility with them because of the children they shared, but if he never had to see them again, it would be too soon.

“He can hate me if he wants,” I said. “I hate him for what he did to me.”

“In all seriousness, talk to a lawyer right away. You married into his fortune. I wouldn’t put it past him to take it all away from you.”

“I don’t want it.”

“You say that now. But you’re going to need to live. And you’re entitled to something.”

“All I want is this store.” Spike made a face. “And I suppose that some support would be in order. But I’m not going to go crazy and ask for thousands a month, or a multimillion-dollar settlement.”

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that. Robert’s going to be looking out for number one, and you need to do that, too. Take it from me. I know how
vindictive a person can get when a relationship ends. What Marcus did to me…the way he threw me out of his place and left me without a penny… And I had no legal recourse.”

He’d had no legal recourse because he’d been in a same-sex relationship in a highly conservative state.

“I know Robert will be hurt, possibly angry, that I’m leaving him. But I was his wife for nearly a decade. Even if he did try to completely screw me over the way Marcus did you, the law wouldn’t allow it.”

Spike’s expression said he knew better. “Talk to a lawyer, doll-face. And get ready for a battle. Because when two people split, it’s often war.”

Shortly after two o’clock, I left Spike, Tabitha and Maxine at the store and went out for lunch. I wanted some time alone and wasn’t interested in any chitchat. I drove to a pita shop about ten minutes away, picked up a chicken pita and ate it in my SUV at the back of the parking lot.

My thoughts were on Dion. I wanted to get to know him. Whether that would land us in bed or in a relationship, time would tell. All I knew right now was that I wanted to experience with him in real life all that I had experienced with him in my dreams.

I thought of the electrical charge I’d felt this morning when he’d shaken my hand. Of the way his eyes had heated my body.

And suddenly I was aroused. What was it about this
man that had me thinking about hot sex every time he entered my mind?

I wasn’t this woman. This woman I was becoming who was driven by sexual needs.

At least I hadn’t been.

But I was enjoying the feelings this man was bringing out in me—and I barely knew him.

Right there at the back of the parking lot, out of view of anyone, I eased my skirt up and slipped my hand into my panties. I stroked my clit. Up and down. Up and down. And imagined Dion’s tongue flicking over my nipple. Imagined his teeth grazing my breast. Imagined him pushing his fingers deep into my pussy.

Heat enveloped my body. I was wet, my breathing shallow. I wanted to come. Needed to come. I thought about my legs spread wide, exposing my pussy to Dion. I thought of him suckling my clit so damn sweetly. Thought of him spreading my folds and thrusting his tongue deep inside me.

He ate me like a man starved, groaning lustfully as he drank my nectar. His fingers and his tongue stroked me, heated me, fulfilled me in a way that made me absolutely crazy.

The pressure built inside me, a rising crescendo. And as I thought of those hazel eyes staring deeply into mine from between my legs, I came.

For several seconds I sat still in my car, my hand between my legs as I rode the wave of my orgasm. Panting, I glanced around, saw that no one was around me. Even if there was someone, they wouldn’t be able to see what I’d been doing behind tinted windows.

But
I
knew what I’d been doing—something I had never done before. Something I never would have imagined doing, in my wildest dreams.

Was I losing my mind?

I should have been embarrassed, felt some level of shame. But I didn’t. Because I was discovering a part of myself I had repressed for far too long.

And I was liking it.

I went back home after work to get some clothes. Robert wasn’t there, which was a huge relief. I didn’t want to run into him. If I could move on with my life and never see him again, I would be only too happy.

I threw myself into work for the rest of the week, putting particular attention into the arrangement for Dion’s mother. Thinking about seeing him on Sunday gave me something positive to look forward to. When the reality of my life crept into my brain in the middle of the night, I thought about Dion.

Nights were quiet time. And in quiet times, I couldn’t block out my reality with work.

The same was true on Saturday night.

I lay awake in Sharon’s spare bedroom, thinking again about the nights I’d slept in Robert’s bed. So often, he would sleep with his back to me. There was something symbolic about that. Something I should have realized at the time, but didn’t.

Did Robert ever love me? Or was I simply a young, beautiful wife he could be proud to have on his arm? One he had recognized was broken enough that he would be able to control her?

I didn’t want to think about the answer to that question. I didn’t want to believe that my whole life with him had been a lie.

Dion wouldn’t be the kind of guy to lie in bed with his wife and sleep with his back to her,
I thought.

What was it about Dion that so intrigued me? He was a stranger, and yet there was something about him that spoke to me, though I wasn’t sure what. A primal need? Something else?

I slipped my hand beneath the waist of my pajamas. Pushed it lower, to my center. Let my fingers gently rest on my pussy. Almost every time I thought of Dion, I felt a rise of desire.

I swirled my middle finger lazily around my clitoris from outside the lace, stoking the embers of my desire. Making myself wet.

But this time after I came, there was a sense of emptiness. As much as I enjoyed fantasizing about Dion, my fantasies were no longer enough.

I wanted the real thing.

Eleven fifty-three.

I glanced at the clock for the gazillionth time that morning. Even though Dion had said he’d be coming at noon, each time the door chimes sang, I looked up in anticipation.

But now the time was getting close, and my heart was on overdrive as I waited for him to appear.

The door chimes sang again. Butterflies danced in my stomach as I hurried from the fridge area toward the front of the store. Tabitha was walking toward me, no
doubt about to pick up an arrangement from the fridge for another customer.

“Maxine’s not back yet?” I asked.

“No. She has been gone awhile, hasn’t she?”

Since the shop was normally closed on Sundays, except for special occasions like Mother’s Day, my deliveryman had the day off. Maxine was playing the role of driver with the company van today, for the one delivery I had scheduled, for a Jewish wedding.

“She’s probably helping the family set up the flowers in the synagogue,” I commented, certain that was the case.

I went to the door, hoping to see Dion. Disappointment hit me like a punch in the chest when I saw one of my other customers there.

“Good morning, Brad,” I said warmly. He was a real estate agent who gave me a lot of business. Whenever his clients purchased a home, he had a floral arrangement delivered to the house as a personal touch.

He was also gay, and I always thought he’d be a good match for Spike. If Spike would ever dare give his heart to another man.

“Morning, Elsie.”

“I’ll get your flowers.”

I went to the fridge and withdrew the festive bouquet Spike had made. The yellow daisies, red carnations and pink asters were radiant in a gold-colored basket. I’d had Spike make one for Sharon, too, which I would surprise her with later.

She was almost a mother, and I wanted to celebrate that.

“Lovely,” Brad said as I carried the bouquet to the front of the store. “My mother will be very happy.”

“I’m sure she will be.” The bouquet was wrapped in cellophane. It made it easier to carry to the car, and minimized any damage during transport. “And you’ve already paid for your order in full, so you’re good to go.” I handed Brad the bouquet.

“Thank you, Elsie. You outdid yourself.”

I was tempted to tell him that Spike was behind the magnificent creation, but refrained. There was no point trying to play matchmaker until Spike was ready to let his guard down.

So I simply said, “You’re welcome.” And then, “I’ll get the door for you.”

I stepped ahead of Brad to the door. It opened before I could get there.

And in he walked.

Dion.

My heart slammed against my rib cage. I stood, pretty much dumbfounded, my eyes drinking in the sexy sight of him.

Dion held the door open, and Brad exited. “Thanks again, Elsie,” he called over his shoulder.

Dion let the door swing shut. And then he faced me, his striking hazel eyes locking on mine.

You are entirely too sexy,
I couldn’t help thinking.
So damn delicious…

“Hello, Elsie.”

“Afternoon.” I hoped my thoughts weren’t evident on my face. Then again, maybe that was exactly what
I wanted. I wanted Dion to know how much I desired him.

“How are you?” I asked.

“I’m good, thanks. You?”

“Good,” I replied, nodding. A few moments of silence ensued, and I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.

“I suppose the bouquet for my mother is ready?” he asked at last.

“It is.” Goodness, why couldn’t I think of anything intelligent to say? “Let me go back and get it.”

I went to the fridge and held the door open with my hip. “It’s rather large,” I called out as I gingerly lifted the vase. “I hope you like it.”

The bouquet was large and blocked my view, so I had to angle my head to the side as I carried it to the front of the store.

“Wow.” Dion’s face lit up as he saw it. “That’s huge.”

“It’s one of the best I’ve ever made,” I said proudly as I gently set it on the front counter. And it was. I’d placed each blossom with care. “I figured it was fitting to create an arrangement with pink roses and lilies, adding a splash of color with mokara orchids. They’re the ones shaped like starfish. Yellow and orange and bright, warm tones that signify the bright days to come.”

“That’s nice. You put a lot of thought into it. I appreciate that.”

“The story you told me about your mother was inspiring. I wanted to create a bouquet that celebrated that story.”

“Thank you.”

“I decided against the balloons, at least as part of the arrangement. It wouldn’t look right. But I have an array right here.” I indicated the various helium balloons that were prearranged for Mother’s Day.

“This is nice.” Dion pointed to a large metallic one with Happy Mother’s Day written on it in a cursive font. Pink and gold latex balloons filled out the tall arrangement. “I’ll take this as well.”

“Everything’s wrapped in cellophane to keep it in place, but you can see the Godiva chocolates in front.” I pointed to the box, which I’d wrapped in gold foil and tied with an elegant cream-colored ribbon.

“I can’t thank you enough,” Dion said. “How much do I owe you?”

I added the balloon cluster to the tally, and gave Dion the total price. He passed me two one-hundred-dollar bills.

“Keep the change,” he told me.

“But that’s over a thirty-dollar tip.”

“No other florist would have gone to the lengths you did to make this bouquet so personal and meaningful.”

I was humbled, and touched. “I’m glad you like it.”

“Let me take the flowers to the car,” Dion said. “Then I’ll come back for the balloons.”

“I’ll get the door for you.” I hustled past him.

As Dion went outside, I headed back to the counter. It wasn’t a windy day, but I wrapped the balloons in a bag nonetheless to protect them.

He came back inside just as I finished securing the arrangement. “And here you go,” I told him.

“I can’t thank you enough, Elsie.”

“It was my pleasure.”

A few beats passed, and I grinned at him for lack of anything better to do. I wanted to tell him that I would love to see him again, but I couldn’t find the courage. It was one thing to be bold with him in my mind, but being bold in real life was another thing altogether.

Dion went to the door, and I watched him leave. He made his way to a white Buick Enclave, opened the back door and put the balloon bouquet inside.

I watched. Waited for him to look back.

But he didn’t. He opened the front door and got into the car.

My happiness dissolved, just like that. My stomach twisted, and I felt sick with disappointment.

What had I been expecting? For him to sweep me into his arms and kiss me?

I returned to the counter, sighing as I did. I’d been so looking forward to seeing him again. He’d represented hope for me, I guess. Hope that was now deflated.

Trying to hide my emotions from Tabitha, I looked down at my order book and put check marks beside Brad’s and Dion’s names.

The door chimes sounded. I whipped my head up as Maxine rushed in.

“God, talk about a nightmare.” She ran her hands through her layered blond hair. “The traffic to Charlotte was brutal, even on a Sunday.”

“Charlotte?” I said, certain Maxine had misspoken.

“Why didn’t you tell me that the location for the delivery had changed? I was a good five minutes in the
wrong direction when I got the call from the bride’s father.”

“Bride’s father?” Now I was alarmed. “No one told me there was a change in location.” I frowned. “Mr. Bloomberg signed for the delivery?”

“Actually…”

“Actually what?”

“Mr. Bloomberg said the family was going to be late getting to the synagogue, but to leave the flowers.”

“Someone had to have signed for the delivery,” I said. “That’s company policy.”

“Someone did sign, but…but now that I think of it, he seemed a bit confused.”

“What does that mean?” Sensing a major problem now, I was getting anxious.

“He was…a janitor, I think. I told him about the wedding, and he seemed not to know what I was talking about. But he signed for the delivery, anyway.”

“Oh, fuck,” I muttered.
Robert.

“Elsie?” Maxine said, but I was already heading to the phone.

I called Mr. Bloomberg, who said he was just about to phone me. He wondered why the delivery hadn’t yet arrived.

I hung up, cursing. “There was no change in location,” I said to Maxine.

“What? But the father called! I was driving, and he phoned the company cell. He said he was sorry for the mix-up and last minute change, and gave me the new address and everything!”

“Well, the Bloombergs are at the synagogue in
Cornelius, wondering where the flowers are. You need to head back to Charlotte immediately and pick up the arrangements. You’ve got about an hour and a half before the wedding starts. Damn it!” Maxine jumped.

“Now,” I snapped, though I wasn’t angry with her.

I was pissed with Robert.
He
was behind this.

He knew Judge Bloomberg. Was going to his daughter’s wedding. He’d left me a message last night pleading with me to go with him. I hadn’t responded.

Robert would know to call and screw with this order.

A big order.

He did it to get back at me. To punish me for not going to the wedding with him.

The bastard must have been waiting outside the shop until he saw us loading up the van. Then he’d called Maxine, shortly after she’d set off.

She hustled out the door now, nearly bumping into a customer.

In my frustrated state, I didn’t immediately see who it was. But a moment later, the fact that it was Dion registered.