Charlotte’s bedtime and I still have to fight with her to brush her teeth. Plus, Michael has to be at school early for tutoring, and wrestling Chris into bed is somewhere in the middle of all that.”
“Use a timer for Charlotte and see if you can’t make it a game.”
“What?”
Addy stood and gave him another glimpse of thigh.
Thank you, dear Lord, for that small gift.
“Brushing her teeth. I have a funny chicken timer you can use. Set it for a minute and make it a game.”
“That will work?”
Addy shrugged. “Worked for my little sister. She hated brushing her teeth. Now she’s in dental school.”
Lucas followed Addy to the kitchen, trying to control the impulse to grab her, whirl her around and kiss the devil out of her. He craved her mouth. Wanted to touch her, hold her—
“Here,” Addy said, plopping a chicken timer into his hand, totally destroying his visions of kissing her. Chicken timers had a way of curbing horniness.
Or maybe it was Aunt Flora and Charlotte sitting at a retro silver table happily discussing cookies dissolving the desire.
The kitchen was pleasantly old-fashioned with white tile counters and a black-and-white-patterned floor. Touches of red and yellow dotted the palate, giving a homey feel to the slightly industrial stainless steel appliances that were very much of this century. A comfortable place as evident by Charlotte’s swinging legs and chocolate-smeared face.
“I don’t wanna leave,” Charlotte said.
Addy squatted, tucking the terry cloth against her behind. Damn, she was sexy as hell in that raggedy bathrobe.
Lucas had to turn away to contemplate something besides the curvy brunette with her sexy bare feet and delicate wrists. He needed to get a grip...or get laid.
“You must go home so you can come again tomorrow. Uncle Lucas said you can come and play.”
Could he come play, too? He knew of a few games to play with Addy...but she’d have to take off that—
Curb it, bud.
Swallowing hard, he studied the badly painted rooster perched upon the cabinet and focused on withering the erection growing in his jeans.
Okay, Luke ol’ boy, think about the dog piss. Or the overflowing garbage can you forgot to set out at the curb. Or the claws of the Wicked Cat of the West sinking into your balls. Yeah. That works...
“I’ll come tomorrow. For a cookie,” Charlotte said.
Lucas heard the chair scrape against the tile and turned. Charlotte slid from the chair and wrapped her arms around Addy’s neck.
“Good girl,” Addy murmured, catching his gaze and giving him a little smile.
And this time it wasn’t his manhood that stirred.
It was something closer to his heart.
Must be gas from the pizza.
Had to be. Except he hadn’t had any yet.
Because Lucas Finlay was a man who didn’t want to feel little plinks near his ticker. Love or anything near it wasn’t something he wanted cluttering up the clear horizon in his life.
“Let’s go home, Charlotte.”
The little girl looked at him. “It’s not your home, Uncle Wucas.”
Point taken.
* * *
ADDY PLACED the freesia between the Stargazer lilies and squinted. Too much? Or just right?
“About to deliver the bouquets for the Richard wedding. Are there any deliveries you need made downtown? I’m headed that way,” Shelia Guillory asked as she hefted the long box containing the bridal bouquet and walked toward the back door.
“Nope. Slow day for flowers.”
“About time. We’ve been busier than a one-legged man in a butt-kicking contest,” her assistant and sometimes delivery person said with a chuff of relief. “Valentine’s Day nearly did me in.”
“Busy is good.” Addy murmured her standard reply.
“Says the owner,” Shelia said using her droll voice. It was one Addy was well acquainted with because Shelia lived for sarcasm, biting irony and fuzzy kittens. The latter she wasn’t droll about, merely passionate.
“You like eating?”
Shelia indicated her lush figure. “What do you think?”
The topic Shelia had brought up weeks ago about her buying into the business sat fat between them, but Shelia had sworn she wouldn’t leave if Addy didn’t accept her offer. Addy had told her she’d think about it and get back to her later...but she knew she didn’t want to sell part of the shop to Shelia. Fleur de Lis floral was her life, something she’d worked hard to buy from her aunt Flora after she’d retired. Addy had opened the business to a new market with her creative designs and couldn’t imagine letting even a small part of Fleur de Lis go. Luckily, Shelia hadn’t pushed nor said anything more about it.
Addy smiled. “I love the way you look, Shelia. Wish I had some of those dangerous curves. I’m a straight drive.”
“Eh, you do all right. I see the way Tom looks at you when he comes in for deliveries. If there were ranch dressing lying around, he’d dip you in it before he devoured you.”
“Wait, the UPS guy? Ranch dressing?”
“Yeah, Tom. And everything is good dipped in ranch dressing.”
“That’s trite, huh?”
“The dressing or Tom?”
“The cute UPS guy.”
Shelia raised eyebrows she’d penciled to perfection. “He looks pretty damn good in those shorts if you ask me. But I’m too old for him.”
“Bah.” Addy tilted her head. “His knees are nice, now that you mention it.”
Shelia’s robust laugh filled the shop as she scooped up the other boxes for the chapel. “You know what they say about a man with sexy knees, don’t you?”
Addy made a face, bracing herself for the sexual innuendo sure to follow.
“Wears a lot of shorts.”
Addy rolled her eyes and focused on the arrangement.
“I’m outta here. You got that last delivery?”
“Yes, and I can’t wait until Herbert is back. I hate knocking on strangers’ doors.”
“I know you
