No Flowers Required (10 page)

Tears spurted into her eyes and she shook them off.
No
. She was not going to cry. Her plan to save the store was going to work. She just needed a little more time.

Giving in to the urge to wallow, she sat down on the floor and drew her legs up to her chest. And rocked.

She wasn’t down for the count. Nellie had started working with her yesterday, and she’d begun showing her the basics. They’d worked on fall wreaths that afternoon, twisting colorful ribbons into bows, winding delicate blooms and vines through grapevines and around wire frames. Her best friend seemed to have a natural eye, thank God. They’d laughed and laughed as they worked, something Alexa hadn’t realized how much she’d missed.

Losing Patty was a big blow, but with Nellie’s help, Divine would be okay. It wasn’t as if there was a ton to do right now anyway, except the usual orders and inventory and keeping everything tidy. She just needed to keep the faith and not let this temporary black hole suck her in.

After a while, she rose unsteadily to her feet and called Trixie. She gave her cat her daily dose of love and kibble, then sat down on the couch and turned on the TV. She smiled. Dillon had taken it off the dinky stand she had for it and mounted it at the perfect height on the wall without her even having to ask.

Between Dillon and Nellie, kindness seemed to be spilling out all around her lately. Perhaps it was a sign her streak of bad luck was finally going to end. Maybe she needed to go see Sue Ellen, Nellie’s tarot-reading cousin. She could use some guidance. Along with another night with a certain man, who happened to have a sexy grin and incredibly athletic hips.

Ah, screw it. What did she have to lose? Except everything?

Biting her lip, she dialed Dillon’s number. Silly to be nervous. He was just a guy, and she knew how to handle men. Usually. Somehow her typical moves hadn’t resulted in the dance she’d expected this time.

He didn’t answer, so she left him a voice mail. Though she attempted to sound breezy and casual, she was sure she failed. There was that word again.
Failure
.

The night passed in a haze of junk food and sitcoms. She sat through a couple reruns of
The Big Bang Theory
and noshed on Twizzlers, since she’d yet to fill her pantry with anything substantial. Halfway through the nightly news, her cell buzzed in her lap. She’d just forgotten to put it back in her purse. It wasn’t as if she’d been waiting all night to hear the sound of Dillon’s voice.

“Alexa?” he murmured once she answered. “Are you okay?”

Oh God. That question, said in such a painfully understanding tone. The already weakening walls in her chest cracked open so fast she had no hope of shoring them up again before a sob escaped.

She couldn’t answer. All that came out were broken gasps as she scrambled to hold back the deluge intent on spurting out of her eyes.

“What is it? What happened?”

He sounded frantic. As if he actually cared. Why should he? He didn’t know her beyond a night of sex—truly incredible sex—and a note-and-flower flirtation. If she needed help, she had no right to expect it from him, when all she had done was dismiss him in her mind as “just a handyman.”

Which was total crap. He wasn’t just anything. There was nothing wrong with being a handyman. It was an honest profession, and she was too bitter and tied up over her own nonsense to even give people a fair shake anymore.

Kind of like the fair shake you refuse to give yourself?

“It’s just been a shitty day. Nothing unusual there,” she laughed bitterly and pressed her fingers to her closed eyes, “until I got the mail and another overdue rent notice. Nothing new there either.” So why was she on the verge of tears again just from telling him?

“I’m coming over,” he said, his voice harder than she’d expected.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to. I’m all—” She couldn’t even get out the protest. How could she, when all she wanted was to spend more time with him?

For a while, she needed to get away from her own brain. Whatever it took. Still, she wasn’t sure if a guy she barely knew qualified as a good person to let herself go with. Mindless sex was one thing. But what if she couldn’t stop the tears and he saw her in her current state of soggy mess? Did she really want to go there?

“I’ll be there in twenty minutes,” he said. Then he released a huff of breath. “Have you eaten?”

She glanced at the candy that had served as her dinner. “Not exactly.”

“I’ll get us something. Anything you hate?”

“Sushi,” she replied, feeling steamrolled but in the best way possible.

“No sushi, got it. See you soon.”

Alexa clicked off and forced herself to straighten up. There wasn’t much mess to begin with, but tidying gave her something to do.

At the last minute she remembered Dillon’s flowers. Gotta hide those. No mush allowed. She tucked the jars behind the gauzy white curtains that framed the lone kitchen window. The struggling violet she’d babied all week took the place of honor in the middle.

It took more time to straighten herself up. Her eyes were red and puffy, her cheeks blotchy. Fabulous. He’d be riveted by the sight of her tonight.

She raced through a cool shower and threw on the boy shorts and eyelet-trimmed cami she slept in. Then she eyed herself in the mirror. Hmm, maybe she should go with a strapless bra for a little extra support. While she debated the point, she fiddled with her wet hair, finally tossing it on top of her head in a clip.

The knock on the door answered her bra question succinctly enough, though she was ridiculously conscious of the slight sway of her breasts as she hurried to answer. From the quick glance at her chest Dillon tried to disguise, he’d obviously noticed her lack of mammary support.

She’d noticed something else—namely the aroma of hot Chinese food coming from the bags he carried. Her nose practically wiggled with interest.

Yeah, she was flashing him a message, all right.
Do me. But feed me first.

“Alexa?” Warily, he reached out to tip up her chin. After a careful study of her eyes, he nodded and pushed the bags into her hands. “You look hungry.”

“Do I?” She supposed that was better than looking weepy. Getting ready for him had given her a welcome task to focus on. Her forgotten stomach growled as she waved him inside. “Everything smells great.”

“It’s nothing fancy. Just some Chinese.”

She swept her gaze from his stubbled jaw to the dusty toes of his boots. As usual, her attention caught first on his gleaming eyebrow ring, then the bright blaze of his eyes. His brawny shoulders stretched his thin, yellow T-shirt until the fabric wept, and his muscular torso led to lean hips encased in low-slung jeans.

No doubt about it, the guy was sexy. Though she still wouldn’t have called him classically handsome, his looks were growing on her.

Like ivy. Or fungus.

“Chinese is my favorite, especially from that little place on Whelden.” She noticed the logo on the paper bags and grinned. “Excellent choice.”

“I love them too. Best egg rolls ever.” He dug in one of the bags and pulled out a sleeve bulging with egg roll contraband. “Three of these are mine, but you can have one.”

“Gee, thanks.” It made her laugh, but the brief kiss he smoothed over her temple quieted her once again. “I appreciate your interrupting your night for me, even if it wasn’t necessary.”

“Says who? I missed you.” Her heart turned over as if he’d flipped it in a skillet. “And I was having so much fun, I can’t even tell you. What a huge interruption.” Amusement filled his tone.

“Why? What were you doing?”

“Tearing off a roof, then when it started to pour, I attacked some drywall. Literally. Wasn’t too careful, hence the blisters and calluses.” He flipped over his hands and showed her his palms. “Well, more than usual.”

She glanced down at his wide, blunt-tipped fingers and remembered them on her body.
Inside
her body.

A tingling flush swept over her face. What was it about this guy? She couldn’t seem to suppress her hot flashes around him. Nor could she kill the sex thoughts. Really dirty and creative sex thoughts, preferably involving honey or whipped cream or maybe even duck sauce. Hey, necessity was the mother of invention and all that.

“Alexa?”

She did a mental double take at her veer into no-man’s land. “Yeah, sorry. I’m distracted tonight.”

He smiled crookedly. “I have a feeling you weren’t thinking about shingles.”

“No?” she asked, all innocence. “Why ever would you think that?”

He let his gaze drift down to her top. Specifically, what was
under
her top. “Your nipples are hard. Before you say it’s chilly, it’s not. It’s humid as hell.” He pulled out the neck of his T-shirt. “I’m sweltering.”

It took all her self-control not to suggest he strip. Quickly. In the interest of his health. “You’re right. Fair warning. I’m in a strange mood. As you heard on the phone.” She swallowed over the knot in her throat. “Sort of swinging from lust to despair and back again. I’m not really sure if I’m interested in talking or sex, or both.”

“But are you in the mood for Chinese?”

She returned his smile. If anything, it had widened. “Absolutely.”

“Then we’ll take the rest as it comes.” He rested his hands on her shoulders to guide her toward the kitchen. The lump in her throat eased even as other parts of her grew tighter and wetter. “Just don’t eat my egg rolls.” He brushed a kiss over the shell of her ear.

She gave into a delicious shiver. The Dillon special, she was discovering. “Your egg rolls are safe.” She threw him a teasing glance over her shoulder. “But as for the rest of you, no guarantees.”

He grinned. “Let’s eat fast, flower girl.”

Chapter Six

They dawdled over dinner, Dillon’s earlier
eat fast
directive soon lost in a lazy, meandering conversation that greatly resembled one of his motorcycle rides. Usually he didn’t pick a route, just chose each road as he came to it. Veering right, then left, then right again, following the slant of the sun or the shadows the leaves made over asphalt. Sundays were his to while away as he wished, alone on a back road. That was his heaven on earth.

Spending time with Alexa Conroy was another.

The pain he glimpsed in her eyes called to him, coaxing a gentleness from him he hadn’t given in to often enough. He liked taking care of people—and yes, women in particular, as rare as it was for him to get that involved with one these days—but somewhere along the way, he’d stopped doing it other than in his work with the charity and with his family. On a personal level, it was much trickier business. But Christ, he didn’t want to turn into Cory, so isolated and caught up in his work.

Lately he’d become too obsessed with the manual aspects of his job that wore him out and left him little time to dwell on the future, when he’d always loved getting out there and talking to people. He didn’t need to become a Cory clone. Hell, his mother had flat-out said they didn’t expect that. There were all sorts of possibilities for him to further embrace his role in the business.

Such as helping a store renting one of his properties.

If Alexa succeeded, so would Value Hardware. They could work together. One business feeding the other. Fuck, he didn’t even like frozen yogurt.

“You’re being too nice,” she said, sipping her take-out cup of coffee.

The raspberry chocolate blend wasn’t his favorite, but he’d had a feeling she would enjoy it. He’d been right, as proven by her delighted squeal after he’d gone down to the car to grab the forgotten cups. “Is there such a thing?”

“When you’ve spent as much time as I have trying to show everyone that you don’t need help then yeah, there is. I’ve already let you do so much for me and I haven’t put my foot down.” She smiled. “Or thrown a hissy fit.”

“Yeah, you did. Remember your reaction to where I got the part?”

“Trust me, that was me set on mild.”

“You? I don’t believe it.” Actually he did, quite well. She was fire and ice, sweet and a hell of a lot of spice. Especially in that little cotton ensemble she had on now, with its lacy straps, delicate pink-and-yellow flowers, and high-cut shorts that showed off her endless legs.

His dick had hurt since he’d walked in the damn door. Shit, just glimpsing the shadows between her breasts made his thoughts dive right for the gutter. Never mind her hard nipples, outlined in vixen-innocent cotton. What he’d give to suck them while he sank his fingers inside her again. And this time he wouldn’t stop until he’d tasted all of her.

“I’m Daddy’s little girl. Mommy’s too.” She sighed as if she’d just shared a weighty secret. “For most of my life, I took whatever was offered me, because hey, it was my due. All hail the princess.” She toasted him with her cup, obviously remembering his name for her.

With a few notable exceptions, she’d dropped the princess routine so swiftly he half-wondered if he’d imagined it. Then they’d come together that night, and learned a lot about each other awfully fast. Her walls had come down, and some hadn’t fully come back up. Yet.

He was scared how much he wanted to keep her open and bare to him.
For
him. Not to exploit, but so he could find the real Alexa. Though he’d yet to share the real Dillon James with her, the one with a financial empire he’d yet to fully lay claim to, but would have to soon.

Working with the Helping Hands charity and rehabbing the business’s income properties had actually eased him back into the fold faster than he’d expected. Earlier today his stepfather had asked him to do a demo in the store next week of a new line of miniature power tools, and he’d not only agreed, he was looking forward to it.

Slowly but surely, he was moving into the role he’d been meant for all along. With his parents’ impending move, the time had come for him to step forward. Maybe he’d even find a use for his office yet—besides having a place for his freelance charity organizer to work when she needed a stationary location—especially considering his timing couldn’t be worse with Alexa. He might as well enjoy his temporary sex life now, since the more steps he took toward Value Hardware, the further he moved from Alexa.

Even if she didn’t realize it yet.

“Why’d you change?” he asked, wishing he could erase her pensive expression.

“I wish I could say I had some big lightbulb moment, but it was more insidious. I suspected Roz was sick.” She pressed her fingers hard into the sides of her coffee cup. “She never said a word. I complain if I break a nail, but she was dying and she never felt sorry for herself, not for one minute. So I tried to keep up a brave face for her while she was still running the business, but I started checking into the books. And I saw how much trouble we were in.”

“She died last year.”

“Yes. She was young. Too young. It took a while, but looking back, it was all so quick. There’s never enough time.” She blew out a breath. “Nellie and Jake were falling in love at the same time. My brother and my best friend,” she explained. “And Roz was just gone. She’d been my babysitter growing up, one of those family friends who sort of drifted away, but our bond never changed. She was as close to me as my mother. In all the ways that mattered, she was my mother, right along with my own.”

He shifted on his chair. “How do you find so much room for people inside you? You already had a mother.”

Much to his relief, she didn’t stare at him as if he’d just revealed a forked tongue. “I love my mom to pieces, but we’ve always had a weird relationship. She doesn’t fully get me. Neither does my father. Jake is their golden child. The one who pleases them by breathing. I’m the one they have to watch.”

“Why?”

“It started when I was caught skipping school in junior high and sort of devolved from there.” She shrugged jerkily and drank more coffee. “I’d skip class and go shopping. Date all the bad boys and miss curfew. I think they half-expected me to either get expelled or end up pregnant by senior year.”

“Neither happened?”

“No.” A grim smile curved her mouth. “I don’t mess around with birth control, and if I commit to doing something, I do it. No matter what. Skipping school occasionally didn’t mean I didn’t care about my grades. Trying cigarettes and maybe even something a little stronger,” she coughed delicately, “at a party was just about having fun.”

“Until Roz died.” When she nodded and drained her coffee, he passed his across the table. “Here. More your speed than mine.”

“Don’t like coffee?”

“Don’t like girly coffee,” he corrected, enjoying her eye roll and quick smile. Alexa not smiling seemed like a world injustice somehow. Seeing her amused, even only for a moment, went miles toward restoring his own balance.

“If you insist.” She took a long sip, her eyes meeting his over the top of the cup. “Though with all this caffeine, I’ll be up all night.”

He toyed with the wire around one of the Chinese food cartons while he worked on maintaining his casual slouch. Even if every nerve ending in his body perked up at the possibilities. “Ms. Conroy, are you propositioning me?”

“If I was?”

“I’d say hell yes and get naked.”

Her husky laughter made him grin. “Everything seems so much easier when you’re around. I don’t know why. It’s like I can think again. The weight of my life doesn’t strangle me when you’re sitting across my dinky table.”

“I’m glad.” He gripped her free hand, running his thumb up and down between her knuckles. “What’s strangling you, Alexa?”

She didn’t answer at first. Her lashes swept down to block her eyes then she glanced up and looked at him directly. “I think I’m going to lose Roz’s business.” She let out a broken laugh. “Actually, no. Not lose it. I think I’m killing it, one exotic flower at a time. I can’t make it grow. Bills are piling up, and every day it just seems more futile. No one wants what I’m selling.”

“I’m sure that’s not true. You do incredible work, and you have a beautiful store.”

“You really think so?”

Finally, some hope. He clung to that thin reed in her tone and nodded fiercely, determined to help her rekindle that inner fire he’d seen only a few days ago. Where had it gone? Buried under overdue bills, most likely. “Yes. I know so. Your flower quality is incredible and you have designs in your store I haven’t seen anywhere else.”

“No one cares about that. All they want is cheap. Ask Value Hardware.”

The name nearly jolted him. He slid his fingers down to clasp her wrist, noting the rapid beat of her pulse. “What are you doing to drum up business?”

In a halting voice, she told him about ad campaigns and flyers and special sales. About ideas she’d had for classes, and the new website she was having built. Throughout, she held herself in a stiff position, as if she didn’t really believe what she was saying. As if the business was already dead.

“Don’t give up.” He tightened his hold on her wrist when she didn’t look at him. “Do you hear me, Alexa? You’re doing this to honor your friend, your second mom. You haven’t come this far just to turn around and tuck your tail between your legs now. Just hang on a little longer.”

“For what? What exactly am I waiting for, Dillon?”

“For your faith to pay off.” He rubbed his thumb in absent circles over her palm. “You’re all you’ve got, and you need to fucking fight for all you’re worth.”

“And if I fail, it’ll hurt just that much more.”

“You’ll only fail if you stop. If you can’t trust yourself anymore, trust me when I say I know you’re going to be fine. You’re not going to lose your business.”

She swallowed hard. “What are you afraid to lose?”

A handful of glib answers sprung to mind, but he remained silent. If he couldn’t tell her who he truly was, at least he could cut the BS and give her something real.

“Myself,” he said softly. “I may not be the best guy in the world. God knows I have my flaws. I was always so damn stubborn about doing everything on my own. But sometimes, you really figure out who you are as part of a team.” He looked up and found her studying him. “Sometimes you gotta commit to seeing something through, shoulder-to-shoulder with the people you care about.”

As the words left him, he realized how true they were. Not just about him and his family, but about Alexa as well. He wanted so badly to help her. To make her store work, and in turn, show Cory that not everything could be resolved on a profit-and-loss ledger. There were people involved. It wasn’t all just about making money, but making connections.

Except he’d lied and pretended to be someone else to the one person he felt he could really be himself with—if he didn’t happen to share a bloodline with Cory Santangelo.

If he told her the truth now, he’d risk driving her into the hole he sensed she was on the edge of falling into. What good would it do to make her question herself more when she realized she’d been had—and by the handyman, no less? Not that he’d ever meant to deceive her for malicious reasons, but she wouldn’t believe that. She’d see his sudden arrival in her life as one more shiny nail into the coffin of Roz’s legacy.

He couldn’t do it to her. Or himself.

The only thing he could do was fully commit to the path he’d set. As angry as he was at Cory for causing her more pain with his damn notices, he knew kicking his brother’s ass wasn’t the way to handle this. She needed to get the store back on her feet herself if her self-esteem was going to survive the blows of the past few months.

And he would help her any way she would let him, for as long as it lasted.

When she murmured, “Stay with me,” he couldn’t walk away. If this was all they could be to each other, then he would savor every moment. And bide his time while he figured out a way to help her pull the rabbit out of the hat at her shop.

Maybe then she’d want him to stick around for longer than a night.

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be,” he said as she came around the table and folded herself into his arms.

Alexa expected sex. More, she expected peel-the-paint-off-the-walls and call-the-cops-from-the-noise lovemaking.

What she got was a black-and-white movie and Dillon’s hard chest serving as her cushion as they tangled together on her sofa. It wasn’t a bad trade-off, all things considered.

He toyed with her hair throughout the movie, and the soothing motions of his hand relaxed her more than she’d been in forever. Even his muscled body cradling hers wasn’t enough stimulation to keep her eyes open. Twice she jerked awake, and each time he nudged her back down with a soft “Sleep” that acted as an instant sedative.

The third time she woke, he didn’t nudge her back down, just smiled at her in the glow from the TV and finger-combed her snarled curls away from her face. “Hey, sleepyhead. Feel better?”

“Much.” She gave in to the urge to wrap her arms around his torso and snuggled in. He smelled so good, like minty soap and sawdust, and the combination had her softening against him. She’d never been a cuddler, but right then she couldn’t resist. “Thank you for staying.”

“It was a good movie. Two good movies,” he amended with a laugh as she poked him in the ribs.

“Who says chivalry’s dead?” She shifted and barely repressed a smile at the definite hardness between his legs. She moved again and he let out a soft protest, not even hiding his interest. “Feels like some parts of you didn’t get much rest,” she teased.

“With you on top of me? That would be a no.”

His almost resigned tone made her laugh. She leaned up to press a kiss to the underside of his chin, delighting in the prickle from his growth of beard. “I want to see your tattoos. If you’re good, maybe I’ll show you mine.”

He drew back to regard her with curiosity. “You have one?”

“Mm-hmm.” Playing coy, she lowered her lashes. “I do.”

“Hmm.” He slipped his hand under her cotton top, his palm resting lightly on the small of her back. “I bet it’s right here,” he added, tracing the line of her spine.