“No.” He shakes his head slightly as he looks down with pursed lips. “It would be rude of me to assume anything about your feelings. I didn’t have your upbringing. You must think I’m crazy for giving up my dream to fulfill a family obligation.”
“Not at all. It’s admirable. That’s quite possibly my favorite thing about you. Which is why I would love to go to work with you today. You sure your parents won’t mind?”
“Nah, they’d love to have you. My mom hasn’t stopped talking about you since she met you the other day. You could bring your laptop, and if things get busy, you can sit in the back and write, so you’ll still get your words in.”
“Look at you, speaking author lingo.”
“I pay attention to what you say.” He moves a stray hair away from my face. “Sound good?”
“I think it sounds like the perfect way to spend the day.”
I pull the covers off and hop out of bed, but he stops me short, reaching for me and sliding me underneath him.
“Okay, I was wrong. That was a good idea you had before.”
I laugh out loud as his lips crash into mine, instantly making me lust for him and what his body can do to me.
“Lacey, I’m so glad you decided to spend the day with us. So, tell me, are you making one of your characters a florist? Perhaps a woman named Bobbi with age-defying beauty and business savvy, who takes the city by storm?”
Jake raises his brows. “You’ve read her books, Mom. The heroine falls in love.”
“A woman in her fifties can have a love affair,” she explains. Turning to me, she adds, “I’d like to fall in love with a firefighter who looks like Dylan McDermott.”
“She’s on a Tom Hardy kick right now,” Jake says with a chuckle.
“Yes, but Tom Hardy is my dream love interest. I can definitely write a sexy and savvy floral designer from Chicago who gets rescued by a fireman with piercing blue eyes and thick, dark hair,” I say with a smile, making him groan.
“What is up with the light eyes and dark hair?” he asks.
I laugh. “Even your mother agrees. It’s the preferred heartthrob look.”
Bobbi nods her head as she cuts the stem off a rose and places it in a vase.
Jake points his cutting shears in his mother’s direction. “Don’t let Pop hear you talk about lusting about blue-eyed firefighters. And what does the fictional Bobbi do with the husband she has?”
“Write that he left her for a Sofía Vergara–type. It’s your dad’s celebrity hall pass, and it would make him happy to know he landed her in some alternate universe.” She laughs at her joke as Jake bows his head, as if his parents were the ultimate embarrassment.
I giggle at their antics. “Noted. First, I have to finish my current book. The hero is an artist.”
Jake lifts his head. “That was my idea, by the way.”
I smile. “Yes, it was his idea. Maybe being here will bring some inspiration. I’m at a standstill in the story line, and I only have a short time to finish.”
The front door to the shop opens, making a chime ring. A gentleman with dark blond hair, a smattering of gray on the sides, enters, carrying a box. He walks over to the counter, where Jake and Bobbi are making arrangements for the afternoon deliveries.
“My darling, these look beautiful.” He gives Bobbi a kiss on the cheek as he looks at me with a grin. “Who is this young lady?”
Jake puts a hand on the small of my back. “Pa, this is Lacey.”
I step forward, holding out my hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Moreau.”
“Please, call me Louis. Jake was right. You are even more beautiful in person than the photo on your author website.”
My eyes are wide as I roll my head in Jake’s direction. “Why are you showing my picture to your family?”
Louis saves his son. “I wanted to know more about the woman who has the ladies in my family going crazy as they keep their nose in a book. Bobbi wouldn’t sleep; she was reading all night. And my Penelope has been going on and on about Jake’s new friend who writes novels. And this one”—he points to Jake—“only has the kindest things to say about you.”
That’s so sweet to hear, especially since I’ve been pretty short with Jake in the past.
“He’s been nothing but chivalrous, and he is very easy to spend time with.”
Louis motions his hand in the air. “That’s my son. He can make friends with a house fly. That’s how we get so much business. He talks to everyone who comes in. His mother’s son, that one.”
I smile big at Jake as he finishes filling the vase in front of him.
“Lacey’s going to hang out with us today,” he tells his father. “Do you think you can stop with the flirting? You’re a married man after all.”
“Oh, hush. I do no such thing. Now, if she were Sofía Vergara, it would be a different story.”
“Told you!” Bobbi says and starts laughing.
Louis looks back to me. “I’m glad you’re spending the day with us. If you need anything, just let me know. This guy here hasn’t quite mastered the needs of women yet.” He thumbs over to Jake, who clutches his heart.
“Ouch. That hurts,” he fakes. “Just because I’m not married doesn’t mean I don’t know how to please a woman.”
I elbow Jake’s stomach, and he laughs in response. Bobbi throws her hands up in the air, as if not claiming responsibility for anything that comes out of her son’s mouth, as Louis shakes his head and turns toward the back room. I hear his laugh as he walks back there, followed by Bobbi.
I narrow my eyes at Jake, who just leans down, gives me a chaste kiss, and then follows his parents to the back, carrying two of the centerpieces.
As
