Page 20 of Lilacs and Leather

I scramble to the walk-in fridge and carefully pick up the arrangement by the square vase. The dark purple and white lilacs are interspersed with purple roses and greenery, as well as a few sprigs of lavender. I press my face close to the blooms, breathing in the delicate floral scent. I can admit that I spent a good hour longer than I normally would have, fussing over the details. But for the amount of money Rhett paid, I had to make sure that it was up to snuff. Or at least, that’s the excuse I had given Gabby.

I back out of the swinging door between the workspace and the shop, careful not to hit the flowers on my way through. I turn and my next breath catches in my throat. Rhett is dressed casually today, dark designer jeans and a light blue polo shirt hug his athletic frame, showing off the muscles of his thighs and biceps. He’s holding a cardboard drink carrier in one hand, two cups of coffee in it. His eyes are bright with his smile as he sees me turn, and I can almost detect a trace of chocolate under the whiskey and leather of his scent.

I clear my throat and set the arrangement on the counter. “Is this okay? I can change anything if you don’t like it.” My voice trails off as I flush pink under his gaze.

“Lydia, this is beautiful. I don’t want to change a thing,” Rhett gushes, and my stomach does a triple axel.

He looks up from the flowers and seems to lose his train of thought. I rub at the back of my neck and look away, feeling suddenly very warm.

“I believe I promised coffee,” he says, holding a cup out to me.

I take it with muttered thanks, stepping back from the counter and taking a tentative sip. My knees go a little weak, the warm caffeine and sugar rushing through me.How did he get this exactly right?

“Well, while Lydia wraps that up, I have a bone to pick with you, Mr. Cooper,” Wila says.

I jump at the sound of her voice.Did I forget she was right next to me?

Rhett’s smile turns bashful. “I have a feeling I know what this is about,” he admits.

“Then you should have come sooner. The B.O.A. has been calling about getting those awnings repaired for months, boy,” Wila snaps, and I swear I see Rhett flinch.

The B.O.A., or Business Owner’s Association, includes the owners of all the shops on the Old Town portion of State Street. It was founded when the restoration project began to keep the St. Clair Foundation from strong-arming any one business. It keeps businesses honest with each other, too, setting up rules for sidewalk maintenance and other trivial things like that. Wila sometimes calls them the Busybody Oversteppers Association, but she can admit that they have their uses. Even if they try to tell her when exactly she needs to put up and take down holiday decorations in her front windows.

“We sincerely apologize for not getting to it sooner. Did the inspectors not come by?” Rhett asks.

I take another long drink of the coffee before setting the cup down and moving the arrangement over to the finishing station to wrap it in cellophane. I find I am working slowly, because I can’t take my eyes off him for very long. He is looking Wila directly in the face, eyebrows pulled down slightly, giving her his undivided attention. And I don’t know why that makes my heart skip a beat.

“Of course, those lazy kids came out. They took pictures, asked about the damage, and told us we’d hear back from the foundation soon. That was six weeks ago, and we haven’t heard squat,” Wila goes on.

Rhett nods seriously and pulls out his cell phone. “I checked the maintenance schedule, and I didn’t see a report. But it’s clear that we need to do something about the state of them. What happened exactly?” Rhett questions, looking between her and his phone.

Wila launches into the story about the hailstorm we had a few months back, but I can’t take my eyes off Rhett. Even though he’s typing on his phone and scrolling through various apps, he nods along with the story, asking follow-up questions and listening fully to her responses. His hair is less styled today, pieces falling down onto his forehead. As his fingers brush them back, I can’t help but picture how they would feel in my hair, pulling a little as he grips it in a fist and—

“If you don’t fuck him, babe, I will,” Gabby whispers in my ear.

I jump and squeak at her words. Rhett’s eyes snap to me, and his mouth pulls into a frown. I turn and smack Gabby on the arm, and his face relaxes, focus returning to Wila’s explanation of the runaround she and the BOA have been going through to get the awnings fixed.

“I can’t fuck him, Gabby. He’s got a pack,” I hiss through gritted teeth.

“That hasn’t stopped him from undressing you with his eyes since the moment he walked in,” Gabby mumbles, cutting a length of ribbon for me.

“Gabby, I… I don’t know. He’s so…”

“Hot? Charming? Into you?” Gabby tries to finish for me.

“Not my type.” I sigh, still keeping my voice down as I help hold the cellophane in place while Gabby ties the ribbon. “I swore off alphas for a reason, you know.”

Gabby sets down her scissors and looks at me with all the seriousness of the grave. “I know. But you can’t tell me you’re not into him. You are pushing more perfume than a Macy’s.”

I blush bright red, tucking my head. I glance over my shoulder and find Rhett looking at me. He gives me a little smile that turns my lower belly into molten lava. I look back to Gabby and her deadpan stare cuts through me.

“Fine. I can admit that he’s attractive, but it doesn’t mean that it’ll work,” I admit with a huff.

“You won’t know unless you try,” Gabby says under her breath.

“I…” I start, breaking off and chewing my bottom lip.

“Shoot your shot, babe. You deserve it,” Gabby hisses, giving me a stern look.