Lex (Unconventional Hearts) (13 page)

Why does this matter? Did he really come to
ask me about my dating life? If he did, he has another thing
comin’. I could never, would never, in a million bazillion years,
want to grace my bed, let alone my heart, with the likes of Gage
fuckin’ Masterson, the asshat, rude man, who I know probably,
fucked his way through college. I feel sorry for his ex-wife.
Whoever that poor woman is, she has got to be a saint.

Ok, yes. It’s confirmed, I
am
a raging
bitch today.

“Yes, he’s local and we’re over. Can you
please drop it? I’ve had a hard enough time getting rid of him.
Now, I’d like to get rid of you for the day. I want some peace and
quiet. So why did you come here, Gage?” I’ve lost all patience, and
the next step is throwing something at him. He picked the wrong day
to walk into my office.

Giving me his devilish grin, he replies. “You
called me Gage, I like when you use my name. It means we are
finally coming to terms with this budding friendship, Ms. Keagan. I
came here for two reasons. One, I wanted to be the first to tell
you that we will be closing the case next Friday. And secondly, I
have some good news.”

“What’s that?” I don’t see much coming from
his mouth as good news, although, getting this bogus lawsuit over
with by next Friday is a weight lifted off my shoulders.

“I spoke with the company, and they have
agreed to drop the lawsuit to five hundred thousand, instead of
three million. I know it’s not the best outcome. But I figured that
might make you happy.”

Beaming an ear-to-ear smile, without even
thinking, I excitedly catapult out of my chair, dash around my desk
and throw myself at Gage, wrapping my thin arms around his manly
neck.

“Thank you.” I hug him, bending at the waist,
arms around his seated figure.

Both of his big hands grasp my hips and he
pulls me into the chair with him. Making me sit on his lap, my
heart pounding a million miles an hour, and suddenly I can feel my
sexual needs sparking to life.

This is not good!

“Don’t mention it.” He gently wraps two
fingers around a section of my hair and pulls it to his nose.

“Mmmm, you smell even better than I thought.”
He compliments, his tone dropping into a deep sexually charged
baritone.

“What do you mean?” I stupidly croak and
cross my legs in my dark brown leather pencil skirt. It’s a tight
fit. But it works.

“I knew you had to smell amazing. Look at how
you dress,” his hand faintly skims across my skirt. The feeling
causes butterflies to flutter rapidly in my belly and my breathing
hitches.

He feels so good, and I am so turned on right
now. It’s a miracle I’m wearing a leather skirt to conceal just how
much.

“Dior is an exquisite perfume.” He sexily
mutters, running his fingers through my hair.

This can’t be happening!

Wrapping his arms around my waist, he pulls
me further into him so my butt is now sitting on his upper thigh,
and he is actually cuddling with me. Over and over, he sweetly
combs his fingers through my long hair and I meld into him, loving
every sweet gesture, even though I shouldn’t.

“I convinced them suing for three million
might put a strain on your professional relationship with the
company. And in turn, the probability of a lesser product could be
made for their stores.” He whispers, his face nuzzled in my hair, I
can feel the hotness of his minty breath sensuously wafting over my
neck.

It’s never felt this way with a man before.
I’ve only ever been with one, other than Daniel. I never knew it
could be this intimate.

“I could never give the lesser of a product
and feel okay with myself.” I reassure my voice so tiny, I’m not
sure if he heard me.

“Lex, I know that. They don’t.” His lips kiss
my hair and I hear his intake of breath, inhaling my scent,
groaning in his throat, through his lingering exhale.

“Now, I know you don’t like me. And you have
another man you’re talking with. But would you please consider
going on a date with me?”

I say the first thing that comes to mind.
“Wouldn’t Corey be upset? Isn’t that against bro-code?”

Gradually, I force myself out of his magnetic
pull, my heart and my body desperately want to stay pressed against
his suit clad, rock-hard deliciously scented chest. My mind, the
only logical part of me at this point, is forcing my body to catch
up.

“I don’t care. I want to get to know
you.”

Those words, those are the magic words, every
woman wants to hear. And by God, I love them slipping delicately
from between his juicy kissable lips, his nose still nestled into
my hair, his hands wrapped gentlemanly around my waist. I’m trying
to ignore the hard thickness that’s touching my thigh. But I can’t.
He’s hard, and I know it’s huge. So huge, my mouth is watering just
thinking about how it might feel gliding between my lips, him
looking down at me through hooded lust filled eyes, as his hand
lovingly strokes my hair, and he whispers how much he’s always
dreamed of me sucking him.

Oh, hell! Stop it Lex, stop it right now!
You’re turned on. It’s okay to be horny. It’s okay to feel this
way. But is it really? I mean, this is Gage Masterson. The most
beautiful man I’ve ever seen. There is no way he’s not said this to
a hundred different women. I can’t be the first, and I surely won’t
be the last.

Get out of his lap; get out of his lap right
now!

Scooting forward, without giving him a
definitive answer, I try to move off his lap. His hands tighten
around me, anchoring me to him and I can’t move.

“Please.” Huskily he begs.

“You’re hot, Gage, I’m sure most women fall
for this. Now please, let me up.” Grabbing both of the arms of the
chair, I use them as leverage as I forcefully pull myself from his
hold and he lets me go with a sigh.

Righting my skirt, I confidently, with a
strong back, stroll around my desk and professionally sit down.
Folding my hands into my lap after I smooth my hair, that probably
smells like him now.

“Well, I’ll take this as my cue to leave.”
Gage stands, places both hands on the lip of my desk and audibly
smells the giant bouquet of roses with an ‘Mmmmmm.’

“Let me know if you change your mind. I’ll
see you next Friday.” He turns and he’s gone, closing the door
behind him, leaving my room smelling unquestionably like him. His
expensive cologne lingering smells of bergamot, cardamom,
nutmeg…and… I sniff the air again… And…is that mandarin?

I know it might seem strange I can sniff out
the concoction of his cologne. I’ve been in this business a long
time and around flowers even longer. It’s a gift.

Calming my flaring libido and frazzled
nerves, I get back to work, deleting the Suit Masters emails
permanently before I do. I don’t have the time to sit around
contemplating opening six measly emails. After the Gage run in, I
know my heart can’t take another moment of these intense emotions
bubbling up. Feelings I can’t even begin to understand or have ever
felt before. This is one hundred percent uncharted waters for this
land mammal.

“Well lookie who the cat dragged in.”
Barbie’s well-known mild southern accent livens up the place, as
soon as I walk in the chiming front doors of her fabulous bakery.
Wiping her hands on her white apron, she comes out from behind the
counter and displays. Arms spread wide; she lovingly heads straight
for me. Her whitening dirty blonde hair pulled messily up onto a
bun atop her head, clad in blue jeans, and her famous hot pink polo
shirt, with her name embroidered on the left chest in navy blue
thread.

“Lex.” She says warmly, wrapping me into a
huge motherly hug and I return the sentimental gesture. Just as I
do every week. And as always, I tuck my head down into the crook of
her neck and surround myself in the comforting smells of bread,
chocolate and vanilla.

I love this woman.

“What can I get cha?” she asks, releasing me,
and she reaches down, folding my hand into hers, pulling me behind
her toward the displays filled with her latest treats and
desserts.

This place isn’t a chain like Starbucks or
Tim Horton’s. She doesn’t make the same stuff every week or day;
she only makes what her heart tells her. That’s the rules. You get
what she makes. No questions asked. For example, if you’re craving
chocolate toffee scones and she hasn’t made them, you can request a
special order. Most of the time she won’t deny a customer,
especially the ones who are her favorites. However, everyone comes
for the new treats and she never disappoints in what she offers.
It’s always a vast array of breads, candies, chocolates, cookies,
cakes, pies, biscotti, croissants, rolls, loafs of bread, and just
about anything else you can imagine. She even makes those
delectable giant cookie cakes, with the homemade buttercream and
fudge frosting. Everything you select is either nicely packed into
a cute pink paper bag or a pink box, and all the boxes are tied
with a teal bow.

Barbie has owned and operated this shop for
the past thirty plus years. Just as Dolly has owned and operated
the Dairy Dream for just as long. They both purchased their store
spaces at the same time and have been best friends forever. Both of
them married their high school sweethearts, right out of high
school, and now widowed. Barbie has three kids, two of which help
her run her store, and Dolly has a son. I don’t know much about
him.

To be honest, I envy them both. They both
have remarkable establishments and have been best friends for over
forty years. I can only pray that one-day Roni and I will have a
similar story, except we will be sharing in the company, not owning
separate ones. It’s one of those things you don’t see or hear about
every day, except maybe here in Heartfair. It really
is
an
amazing town.

Glancing over the plethora of deliciousness,
I hone in on what I came for—biscotti. Knowing precisely what I
order she calls for one of her workers.

“Get Lex, two dozen biscotti; One dozen of
the salted caramel and a dozen of cinnamon and sugar ones.” She
orders, taking out all the guess work for me. She never steers me
wrong.

“The ones with the glaze or not?” The young
blonde woman, who I think might be her granddaughter, asks,

“With the cream cheese glaze, Oh, and put in
two of the nut and seed ones; on the house.” She rattles off and
affectionately squeezes me hand.

Turning to me she explains, “Those are new
ones I’ve not made before. Lots of people like them. I want you to
try. Since you are my biscotti aficionado, I want to make sure I
got the recipe just perfect.” Winking at me, she escorts me, by
hand, like a child to the register. If it was anyone else but her
or Dolly, I might be offended. Not with Barbie though, she’s like
another mother to me, or perhaps a grandmother. I’ve never had one
of those.

Paying with cash, I give Barbie another hug
and as I turn to leave, she says. “Oh, Lex, I forgot.”

Nearly to the door, I turn back around to
face her as she strolls toward me. “I thought you should know that
there has been quite the interest in you and what you order
here.”

Confoundedly crinkling my brow, I evenly ask.
“What do you mean
quite
a bit of interest?”

“There has been three gentlemen inquiring
your likes and dislikes, not to me directly, of course. Only a fool
would ask about my Lex, directly, but Sally has had some questions.
A man with dark hair was in the other day, had a chocolate cherry
coke float and flirted a little with Sally. She’s new, so she
couldn’t tell me his name. Just said he was asking a lot of
questions about you. Being new, she couldn’t answer the questions
he posed, except what I’ve already filled her in on. That you own
the cosmetics company here in town, you’re one of my favorite
customers and always come in for biscotti. Except you’re a day
early. I don’t usually see you until Friday.”

“Bob was over…”

Cutting me off with the raise of her hand,
she busts out in laughter and covers her mouth. “I heard about
that. I hear he and Veronica put on quite the show last night.”

Rolling my eyes and smirking, I nod. “Yep, it
was a doozy. A very long one.”

Wiping the laughable tears pricking her eyes
with her fingertips, she replies. “I know. Poor Lincoln was in here
for his morning coffee and the man was stopped four times from
people asking questions. Nosy, nosy, people in this town.” She
winks.

“Yes, and I’m guessing the nosy man flirting
with poor Shelly was Gage. He was probably trying to extract as
much dirt on me as he can. He’s representing a company in suing
mine.”

“Ahhh…I know, I heard. I’m sorry to hear
that. I didn’t get the feeling the man was Gage, though. If you’ve
seen that handsome boy it’s hard to forget him, especially all
those tattoos.”