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Love Is Louder Page 12
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Page 12
“Good afternoon,” she greets as she lays down the flowers and comes around the back of the register. “I love these flowers. They really brighten up a room. Just make sure they get plenty of light, but not direct sun.” She takes flowers from me and begins to wrap them in yellow tissue paper.
“I will.” I smile warmly. I pull out my credit card to pay and survey the store, silently hoping Mason will show up.
But why?
This is his girlfriend standing in front of me.
This is so pathetic of me. But being a little curious never hurt anyone.
“Are you looking for something else?” she asks as she returns my credit card.
“No...no...” I shake my head, feeling ill at ease. I take my credit card and flick my eyes to a photo displayed behind the register. There’s no denying that it’s Mason, but the girl isn’t Cindy, which intrigues me even more so. The woman in the photo has her hair pulled back into a ponytail and is wearing a pink Yankees baseball cap. She is beaming with her arm wrapped around Mason’s waist.
Who is she, and what does Mason have to do with this flower shop?
The ringing phone near the register startles me as I try to connect the dots about a man’s life that has suddenly piqued my interest.
“Are you all set?” she asks as she wipes her hands on her apron, ready to pick up the phone.
“Oh, yes, I’m sorry. I’m good,” I say quickly, averting my eyes. “Thanks for everything.”
“Thanks for coming in,” she says before answering the phone. I pick up my bouquet and maneuver through the shop with my thoughts still absorbed by Mason and his link to this place when a voice shatters my peace.
“Brie, is that you?”
The sound makes chills snake down my spine.
What the hell is she doing here?
I prepare myself by taking a deep breath and cautiously glance over my shoulder. It’s the one and only Barbara Fleming standing in front of the register with a bouquet of red and white tulips ready to cash out.
“I thought that was you.”
How the hell did I miss her in that bright red designer suit and overpowering scent of Chanel N°5? My jaw hits the floor. The fact she’s acknowledging me in public is shocking.
“Hi,” I say, fighting to keep my voice light. Reluctantly plodding over to her, I give and receive the standard and unavoidable kiss on the cheek. “Beautiful tulips,” I add as I pull away to admire her flowers.
I hate conversing with this woman, so I keep my banter generic. As soon as we start talking about careers and goals, all hell breaks loose, and I cannot stomach more than one minute of her. James knows this.
“Thank you. Simple but classic.”
What does this woman know about simple and classic? She never leaves the house without diamonds adorning her neck, ears, and wrists, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen her without a full mask of cosmetics.
I stare at her and bite back words of retort as she drops her gaze and moves to dig into her Louis Vuitton handbag.
“What’s the special occasion?” I hold my gaze on her face until she looks up in exasperation, our eyes meeting as she pulls out her matching wallet to pay. Her eyes flicker and darken, and I immediately wish I hadn’t stopped here, but fate is a fickle little bitch, and my luck is just plain horrible.
“Just wanted to brighten up someone’s day,” she admits with a hint of cynicism.
Wow. Barbara doing something nice for someone. This is a first. Has she been drinking?
I steal a glance at my watch—the universal sign that means you’re boring the shit out of me.
“I’m sorry, but I’m expecting a client at the studio in five minutes. I don’t want to be late,” I disclose my half-truth eagerly. “It was nice seeing you.”
“Yes...” She smirks.
My eyes narrow on her mouth, knowing she thinks of my job as nothing but a hobby because she reminds me quite often.
“Tell James to call me. I miss him.”
“I will.” I breathe a sigh of relief and catch Cindy’s curious eyes as I run out onto the busy sidewalk. When the sun touches my skin, the chill of Barbara Fleming dispels.
Because of Barbara, I arrive at the studio five minutes late. She’s good at screwing up most people’s plans.
“Is my next appointment here?” I ask Ashley as I enter the reception area and hand her the hydrangeas.
“Yes, they just went to the restroom to freshen up, and they’ll be right out.”
“Okay. Will you put the flowers in a vase and then tell them to come on back, please?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’ll show them back.”
I take the information with me on Lily Marks, a four-year-old girl. I run my finger down the list of her favorite things
Shoot. I wish I had taken the time to look at these notes earlier so that I could have grabbed the white lilies on her list since I was just at the florist.
Regardless, I have to make do with what I have in the studio. Placing the paper down, I begin to set up the backdrop with something pink, as it is noted that pink is her favorite color. I’m not sure what is taking so long, as ten minutes have passed, and I was hoping to leave here by three today. It’s already ten after two, and this shoot is booked for one hour.
“Hi!” A cheery voice breaks my thoughts. A little girl in a pink dress with bouncy dark brown curls carrying white lilies comes to stand in front of me as I’m kneeling down to adjust the tripod and camera for the shoot.
“You must be Lily.” I look into a set of beautiful blue-green eyes and a perfect heart-shaped face. A dull ache presses my heart at the thought of kids. It saddens me that the only time I get to interact with children is during my photos shoots. I fantasize about having my own and having this perfect little girl in front of me generates the same feeling of loss. I wrestle with the tears that threaten to break. I’m not going to run into the bathroom and lock the door; I’m going to get through this last shoot and let the waterworks flow later.
“Yes!” she squeaks, eyeing me with interest.
I turn my gaze from her for a moment, straighten up, and extend my hand to the older woman with whom she arrived. There is a familiarity to her face, like I know her.
Where have I seen her before?
I’m not sure if it is her nanny or her grandmother. I don’t want to assume since many families in town employ nannies to take care of their kids. If I had my own child, I’d be against a nanny. I wouldn’t want to miss my child’s first steps or first word. The idea of a nanny capturing those moments instead of me is not something I wish for my child or me.
My parents hired a Spanish nanny named Ida when I was growing up. She was a short, round woman, and I remember her always waiting for me after school, calling me her ‘Pequeña Arie.’
Not that my parents wanted to pass me off to someone else while they went on vacations or played golf, it was quite the opposite. They worked long hours; my dad was a CFO of a large marketing firm, and my mother was a buyer for Bloomingdale’s, so they both traveled a great deal. I spent most of my time with Ida and eventually learned Spanish along the way. When my parents spent time together, they doted on me, and I never felt unloved.
“Hi, I’m Katherine, Lily’s grandmother, and as you can see, Lily is really excited to have her picture taken.”
“I’m going to be four on the Fourth of July,” Lily says, holding up four tiny fingers.
“Wow, four is a fun age, and the Fourth of July is one of my favorite holidays.”
“Mine, too!”
“Well.” I lean down and plaster a gigantic smile on my face, saying, “Today is going to be so much fun.”
The little munchkin beams at me, throwing her arms up and twirling around, making her pink frilly dress flare out.
“Yay!”
“I hope you don’t mind, but I have to leave for a doctor’s appointment at three, but her…uh—” Katherine hesitates.
“My daddy is going to come and pick me up!�
�� Lily interrupts her grandmother who shoots me an apologetic smile.
“Yes, her daddy is coming to pick her up,” she mutters, squeezing Lily’s hand. She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “He should be here at three. He’s very punctual, especially when it comes to Lily.”
“That’s not a problem.” I drop my eyes back down to the little princess. “You ready?” She bounces on her toes and clasps her hands together, her eyes lighting up.
“Yep!”
Lily is a ball of photogenic energy, singing, giggling, jumping, and skipping everywhere. The hour flew by, and I didn’t notice when her grandmother left for her doctor’s appointment. Throughout the photo shoot, I wondered what her parents looked like, and in a short five minutes, I would find out if she looked more like her dad or her mother.
I let Ashley leave a few minutes early and asked her to leave the front door open, so Lily’s dad would be able to enter. So enamored with this little princess, I wasn’t aware of my surroundings. My mind was drifting to having my own pictures taken with my child. I have to stop doing this to myself. It’s not healthy. Emotionally, it’s just too much.
“Daddy!”
Looking up from the lens of my camera, my dazed head spins from focusing on Lily. My heart stops, and the blood flowing through my veins freezes as I look into the very eyes of the man whom I have been running into over the last few of days.
What are the odds that he is this little girl’s father?
There’s a fleeting moment of silence between us as he stands in front of me, exuding a strong confidence. I shake my head, bringing me back to the present with him.
I eye him gingerly, dressed in faded jeans and a damp white T-shirt. I have to stop looking at him, but I can’t. Damn. His eyes are scorching pools of heat, and his body is something to be worshiped. He’s affected me this way since I opened the front door weeks ago. I can’t remember what he was there for. Oh, right. The washer.
Thank you, washer.
Raising his brow in surprise, his eyes look me up and down, and a slow, wicked smile tugs at his lips. We stare at each other for much longer than two people who barely know each other should. I swiftly rise, needing to savor the sight of him.
Who knows when I would see him again?
Lily grabs his arm and says something to him, and he tears his eyes away from mine, breaking the spell for a second as he tells her to be quiet for a moment. He sheepishly runs his hand through his hair, causing his shirt to strain around his bicep as he tries to gather his thoughts while I also try to locate and organize mine.
“We have to stop meeting like this.” He exhales a deep raspy chuckle that makes my heart skip a beat.
No. No, we don’t.
I have to stop thinking like this, thinking about him. James is giving us a second chance.
“Hi, Mason.” My heartbeat slows down when he takes my hand, and his warm fingertips touch my skin. I am shocked to discover that I want not just for him to touch my hand but every part of me. I want to know what he tastes like and how his lips feel pressed against mine. Alarmed with the direction of my thoughts, I clear my throat and manage to smile.
“Hi, again,” he says, his eyes scanning me, making my cheeks blush.
He has a nice smile, the kind that’s both sincere and genuine. I look away from him, glancing around the studio to distract my eyes. The room grows quiet, even though Lily is skipping and twirling around the studio.
When I return my attention to Mason, I cannot help but sense that all these encounters are not happenstance. I know this is the child inside me talking, the one that believes in fairy tales. Why am I feeling this way when I have James?
I need to keep away, but another part of me relishes in running into this guy and how he makes me feel.
Brie’s reaction to my arrival is nothing more than priceless. A stunned expression lines her exquisite features when we make eye contact, causing unexpected emotions to stir within my gut. She’s a fucking jewel, precious and one of a kind. I’m practically eye-fucking her every which way possible.
Why couldn’t I find her first?
Just once I wish luck would be on my side.
I must look like shit. My hair is disheveled from walking over. My neck drips with sweat, and my clothes are sticking to my skin. I’m thankful her air conditioner is working properly, and then I’m not, since I won’t be getting any service calls to repair it. Releasing her hand, she raises a brow and finally smiles, nervously running her hands down the length of her short dress.
“How long have you been standing here?” She doesn’t have to feel nervous around me, but seeing her react to me in this way makes her more desirable because it’s clear to me she feels the same level of attraction that I do for her.
I stare at her for a few more seconds, lost in thought before I reply, “Long enough to see you laughing, telling Lily to be silly in front of the camera, and encouraging her to do whatever she wants.”
“I find that you get the most candid and natural shots that way.” Her brown eyes are filled with pride, and her luscious, scarlet-tinted lips curl into a beautiful smile.
“You have a way with kids, too.”
“I love kids,” she murmurs. Her smile diminishes slightly, which I find odd. “Someday, I hope I’ll have my own. I’m just really busy right now with the studio.”
Why does the thought of having kids upset her?
“She’s really fun, Daddy,” Lily chirps.
Brie’s eyes soften as she watches Lily skip around the photo studio and play with the props used for the photo shoot. I know what she’s thinking. I made a promise to Lily; she gets to call me Daddy, and now Brie is standing in front of me thinking Lily is my daughter, and in all intents and purposes she is.
“Yeah, I’m glad, pumpkin. I can’t wait to see the pictures. I’m sure they came out great.”
“Do you know what her nickname is?” Lily gushes, clapping her hands.
“No,” I answer, keeping my eyes on Brie as Lily tugs at my arm.
“Bam Bam! Isn’t that funny?”
Yeah, okay. I’m a guy, so several images cross my mind, but she doesn’t come off like someone who would earn that kind of nickname for what she does in the bedroom, but I’ve been surprised before. Sometimes the more reserved women end up being the kinkiest ones in bed. My mind is having a field day with this, especially since I’ve seen what she can do in her yoga class.
“Bam Bam?” I raise a brow. “So, what did you do to deserve that nickname?”
“Now, don’t go thinking something crazy,” she muses, catching my eyes as she turns to her camera, trying to hide the crimson that rushes to her cheeks.
“Been there and done that.” I chuckle.
“Typical male.” She laughs.
I wish she didn’t look so damn sexy when she’s embarrassed, because it’s making it even harder to keep my thoughts tidy.
“B.A.M. are my initials. Brie Aria Malone. Pretty Simple. BAM!” she punctuates it with a lackluster fist pump and a dramatic eye roll.
“Ahh…I like it.” I wink as a laugh slips through my lips. “A lot actually.”
“Yes, please, don’t go telling anyone. Only a few old friends and my family know.”
“Lips are sealed.” I gesture with my finger across my lips, throwing away the imaginary key.
“Thank you.”
“No problem, Bam Bam,” I tease.
“Ha-Ha.” Her tone is light as she shakes her head.
“Okay. There are two things you need to know about me. One...”
“You’re never late,” she finishes. “I got that one.”
“You remembered?”
“Well, I had to rush home that day. You know how important it is to have clean clothes, right?”
“Sure. Sure.” I chuckle softly at her attempt to downplay the fact I might have crossed her mind a few times since our first encounter.
“And, so what’s number two?”
“Number two..
.” I pause. “People trust me with all their secrets.”
Her face pales, and she clears her throat before she straightens her shoulders. “Who says I have any secrets?”
“We all have secrets, right? Some good, some bad, but something hidden all the same.”
She nods subtly, and for a moment, I wonder if she’s going to respond, but there’s nothing but dead calm between us for several seconds. Her obvious struggle with the topic tugs at my heart, so I change the subject.
“So, tell me. Is this your place?” I cajole, admiring both the studio and her.
“Kind of,” she answers as a smile dances in her eyes. “I’ve been leasing this space for the last ten months. I hope to buy it, if the landlord is willing.” She turns and starts to dismantle her camera from the tripod.
Shit, she’s been here ten months, and I’ve not seen her in town until now? What a shame.
“I always thought James would be taking over in some big city. He’s always been larger than life,” I say. When I look back at her, she’s standing there with a pensive expression marring her delicate features.
“I’m hungry,” Lily whines.
I quirk a brow at Brie who nods before my gaze jerks to the left where Lily is sitting on the floor playing with several stuffed animals.
“Sorry, sweetie, give me five more minutes to finish with Ms. Brie,” I answer.
“Is five minutes a long time?”
“No, baby. Almost done.”
“Okay. Five minutes,” she sings as she grabs a set of wooden blocks and starts stacking them on top of each other.
“Thank you.”
I return my attention to Brie who has now successfully put away her camera and is intently watching Lily with a distant look in her eye.
Her eyes meet mine, and I wonder what she’s thinking, but I don’t care to ask. I witness it in her eyes—the same look that stole the sparkle from her eyes when I mentioned kids has come to extinguish the light again. I consider the thoughts streaming through her head, but this part is out of my hands, because I don’t know her that well and I won’t push her to tell me. She has to want to open up, and from the looks of it, she’s having a hard time with it. I stare at her for a long time, wanting so badly to know what she’s thinking and feeling.