Coffee said, turning his attention back to me with a smile that made me blush. Maybe now you’ll listen… since a beautiful woman said it,” Mr. “See? She’s saying the same thing I told you. “Yeah, you’re gonna need the orchids, and you should stop at the chocolate shop next door… and a jewelry store. “Nah, this fool forgot his wife’s birthday, and she just had his second big ass baby last month. “If so, you’re gonna need to put this back, and go grab a bouquet of orchids.” “You forgot your girlfriend’s birthday?” I asked, eyes wide. Coffee turned to The Friend with a scowl. “You’re not seriously complaining about the price are you?” Mr. “A hundred and forty-five dollars for some flowers?” “This one is one-thirty, so with tax, you’re looking at just under one-forty-five.” Thankful for the reprieve, I smiled as I took the pink and purple bouquet of roses and lilies from his hands. I like to laugh.”īefore I could respond, The Friend shouldered past him, holding up a large arrangement from the “I’m Sorry” section of the shop. “You were laughing… I wanna be in on it too.
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“Yes? How can I help you?” I asked, keeping my tone professional even though my thoughts were far from proper. He tipped his head to the side, raising an eyebrow in amusement as he waited for me to respond. There it was again, my name rolling off his lips in that deep, smooth tenor like it was a sensual, erotic word. I could practically hear her in my ear now. My friend India would definitely approve.
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Warm, intelligent eyes, a sturdy nose, strong jaw line, and full lips… Everything about him, from his broad shoulders to his big hands to his bigger feet practically dripped virility. Coffee was covered in smooth dark mahogany skin, and even though his low-cut hair and goatee were impeccably groomed, there was nothing pretty about him. Our eyes met, and the corners of his mouth turned up in a smile that made me clench my thighs together in an effort to stem the throbbing that bourgeoned between them. I swallowed hard, reluctantly dragging my attention away from the flowers to look at him. I had never heard my name sound quite like that… like it was something naughty. “What’s so funny…?” he paused, presumably to read the name embroidered on my tee shirt, “Simone?”ĭamn.
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My hands stilled, rendered inert by his inquisitive gaze. I shook my head, chuckling quietly at my reverie. In my mind, I concocted a silly, tragic little tale ending with a jilted lover tossing a full cup of coffee in his face. My focus was shot as I took what I hoped was a subtle inhale of his pleasant, savory scent while I puzzled over why the hell he smelled like that. Beside him, my suddenly nervous hands mutilated a similar bouquet. Now, he was standing close, examining the flower arrangement I’d just finished sprucing to perfection. Just enough that I thought maybe I’d missed a glimpse of a cup in one of their hands. It was just a whiff at first, when he and his friend walked in, passing me with nods and smiles of acknowledgement while they continued their conversation. Even over the floral-perfumed air of my flower shop, his scent prevailed. His aroma was smooth, robust, warm, invigorating… real coffee. Not the overly diluted, syrupy sweet stuff either.