Is this wrong? Am I wrong to feel this way about him, right? Of course it’s wrong. This man is trying to help me and I am having all sorts of thoughts about him… crazy thoughts. Totally inappropriate, but I can’t help myself.
She tried shoving her arm in her coat jacket, but she was floating, adrift inside the swirling confines of her mind, unable to concentrate and pull it all together. The tall, lovely man came over and helped her slide her arms through. She couldn’t see him as he stood towering behind her, but she smelled his sexy, masculine cologne which mixed in the with the aroma of the rich coffee that sat on his desk, and the orange peels from the fruit he’d discarded in the waste basket. She’d seen them as soon as she’d sat down, their bright color catching her eye.
“There you are.” She turned towards him and tried to find her tongue as her thighs grew warm from the moisture of her needy pussy. She risked a peep down at his crotch, trying to gauge if she could see a bulge or not. Yes, there was definitely a protrusion and from the looks of things it was, well … impressive. She swallowed as another trickle of honey webbed between her legs, soaking into her panties like drops of rain onto a cloth. The entire damn time of this exchange she’d been getting her kinky jollies off his voice, his demeanor, his natural sexiness. “Thank you,” She finally choked out.
“You’re welcome.” He held her a gaze a bit too long.
“You don’t have to walk me out. I know my way.” She gathered a pleasant smile as she mustered the courage to slide around him, her body gliding into his as she attempted to pass. He cleared his throat and stepped to the side, though he seemed reluctant to vacate the path for her.
“Well, I suppose that it’s for now. Addison, if you have any questions before the interview, feel free to call me. I want to help make sure you knock this out of the park. But I have a feeling you will either way. You’re a natural.” His lips curled at the corners in a sly grin.
“Thank you.” She started to walk away, swaying her hips a bit more than usual before pausing and casting him a glance from over her shoulder. Her heart beat practically out of her chest as her lust for him increased ten-fold. “I’ll make sure to do that should I need you…”
Tim told me not to do it, but if you tell me ‘No’, I consider it a dare…
Aiden stood in the small, quiet floral shop perusing the various options for what felt like an eternity. He was definitely not in his element and made no bones about it. If the damn flowers he kept looking at weren’t roses, he couldn’t identify them. He was determined to figure it all out though, for he’d made up his mind. The woman consumed his thoughts. Addison had made a terrible mistake—that is, if she didn’t wish to attract his attention. The day after they’d met for the follow-up, she’d called him and asked for a couple more interview questions, stating she was nervous and wanted to ensure she had her bases covered. He’d obliged, and joked with her about loosening her nerves. And she’d laughed. Shit. She’d laughed hard, so much so, it was contagious. He’d made her smile, made her relax, made her say things he couldn’t shake…
‘You’re very good at what you do, Mr. Summers. I’m lucky that they paired me with you.’
“I’m lucky too,” he’d thought in his mind, but had kept that to himself.
“Mr. Summers, that’ll be $120.32.” Shaken out of his deliberations, he stood there, gone with the wind in a reckless train of thought.
“Uh, what?”
“That’ll be $120.32. Do you want anything with them? A nice box of chocolate truffles? Some heart shaped balloons?”
“Uh, no. $120 you said? All right.” He handed the man his VISA credit card then looked around as he waited, checking out the various plush plants, fancy ceramic vases, and the glass refrigerator stocked with corsages, wedding bouquets, and grave wreaths. “Must be a very lucky lady.” The old man grinned, exposing small, pearly teeth. “Or man.” The guy shrugged, then smiled wider.
“Yeah… well, I don’t know what I’m doing here, actually.” Aiden leaned against the register counter, not certain what to do with himself.
“Did you mess up that badly?” The old timer chuckled as he grabbed a bin full of colorful ribbons and rummaged through them with knobby, freckled hands.
“I didn’t mess up or impress, actually. Well, if I did impress her I honestly don’t know. I like her though, a little too much I guess. You ever just, you know, meet somebody and they light up something inside you? Like, it’s just a stranger on the street maybe but they smile at you, and you two have a little small talk and then you never forget them—but you can’t figure out why?”
“Sure I have…. and then once they’re gone, you regret not saying anything, too.” The old man’s eyes twinkled, as if he’d had such a situation happen just as described and lived to regret it.
“I shouldn’t be here getting her these flowers.” He sighed dismally.
“Why not?”
“Because she doesn’t know me like that. She’s a client. Well…” He shifted his weight. “She knows me, but not in a romantic way.”
“But you want to make it romantic, I take it?”
“I don’t know. Maybe, but uh, I shouldn’t be doing it.”
“And yet you’re here anyway.”
“Yeah, I’m here anyway,” Aiden said.
“She must be worth the possible humiliation and risk. And besides, someone has to say something if you’re to get to know one another, right? All those who are in love right now, Mr. Summers, at one point were strangers. All right, so what do you want on the card?” The man whipped out a small white rectangular piece of paper, grabbed a pen, and waited.
“Put uh, shit…” Aiden grabbed his forehead and briefly closed his eyes as he searched his brain, trying to think of something catchy, but not offensive. “Put… ‘I became tongue-tied when I looked into your eyes. Thankfully, you’re an expert in speech.’”
The old man nodded and began to write his name on the bottom of it.
“No, no, no!” Aiden swung his hands back and forth and leaped about. “It’s a secret. I can’t let her know who I am. Don’t write my name… leave it just like that… it’s only a clue, you know?”
The old man peered at him suspiciously from over his glasses, then nodded before handing the credit card back.
“All right, young man. They’ll be delivered to her in a couple of hours, as soon as my delivery guy gets back from lunch. Good luck. I put my extra pretty ribbon on there—usually an upcharge, but for you, consider it a gift.”