No Flowers Required (20 page)

His demand might’ve rankled, had she not been breathing hard and close to seeing spots. The heavy weight of everyone’s gazes burned her skin, as if every guest had a personal stake in her reply. It was all too much. “You stole my painting,” she blurted out.

“No, I didn’t,” he said, his voice low. Rough. “I painted it for you. It’s yours.”

“You misrepresented yourself to me. You’re one of
them
.”

His grimace helped mitigate the sting in her eyes. A little. But a woman in a teal pantsuit walked over before he could respond, a brown-paper-wrapped package in her hands. “Here you go, Dill. Thanks.” She cast a quick glance at Alexa. “Lucky lady,” she said with a smile before walking away.

He set the package in her lap as the auction resumed behind them. “They aren’t so bad, I swear. My stepfather likes that you don’t back down.” His warm breath against her ear elicited a shiver she was powerless to stop. “He’s impressed by how you marched in here and gave me hell. Said I deserved it and more for what I did.”

It would be so easy—too easy—to let herself be swept along by that kiss and how much she already missed him. His grand gesture and attentive expression didn’t hurt, either. It was as if he really cared, as if he hadn’t just played her because he could.

As if he loved her.

“Come with me,” he said, dragging his thumb over her lip. Then he added that magical word. “Please.”

His nearness had a disturbing way of making her want to lean into him, to let him caress her hair and take care of her as he had so many times already. “Where?”

He rose and extended his hand only long enough to help her up. The hope in his eyes, the soft vulnerability of it, prompted her to stand as well. “I have something to show you.”

She followed him outside to the parking lot, her throat oddly tight. She’d grown used to him grabbing her hand when they walked together. For him not to felt weird. And awful. “Can you just leave? It’s your benefit. They gave you a fancy award.”

“We’re leaving. I’ll make my apologies later.” He gestured to his bike, hulking in the darkness. “Are you okay to ride in that?”

She looked at her gown. The appropriate answer was “hell no” but she didn’t want to be appropriate tonight. She was too pissed off, too raw, too desperate for him to have any sort of explanation that made sense. “Yeah.” She held the picture under one arm and hiked up her dress. “I can do it.”

“Christ, you’re hot,” he muttered, sounding somewhat dismayed by the fact. Then he marched over to his bike and held out his spare helmet. Before she tried to fumble it on, he set it on her head and did the strap up himself. Which was when she realized that
shit
, she was actually going to have to ride his bike.

Wind. Fast speeds. Certain death. Did she really feel like playing the odds tonight?

“We could take my car instead.”

He frowned. “You
are
worried about the dress.”

“I’m worried about
me
.” She tossed a glance at his bike. “That thing’s huge.”

Lots of other guys would’ve winked and made some sort of joke. Dillon only nodded. “I’ll keep you safe. I promise.” He tipped up her chin and stared down at her, his features silvered in the moonlight. “You’re important to me, Alexa. I know you don’t believe that yet, but I hope you will eventually.”

She didn’t reply, just followed his instructions to get on behind him. Her arms locked around his muscular torso and she pressed close when he kicked the bike into gear, both out of sheer terror and to protect her painting. She would’ve shelled out five grand for it, she’d be damned if it got crushed or broken.

Not that she cared about the painter. Or the reason he’d chosen that subject. Not at all.

Wind whipped through her hair as the bike leaned and lurched through the ride. After a couple minutes, she finally stopped clutching his abdomen quite so tightly and pried open her eyes. It was such a gorgeous night, hot and breezy, with the scent of impending fall in the air. And she was holding on to a sexy-as-hell guy who made her feel safe, just as he’d sworn he would.

She wished they weren’t fighting so she could just savor every moment of this. Dillon and the night and the bike rumbling between her thighs.

Too soon, they were pulling up outside her building. He stopped the bike and took off his helmet before looking back at her, a smile playing around his mouth. “You laughed.”

A bit dazed, she removed her own helmet. Once he’d gotten off, he lifted her to the ground, something she might’ve balked at had her legs not been the consistency of gummy candy. “Did I? It was probably from terror.”

“Even so. It only lasted a second but I heard it. I love it when you laugh.” He brushed her hair out of her face and took her helmet, setting both aside before grabbing her hand. The rightness of the gesture registered first, drowning out her complaints.

He’d lied and misled her. And right now, he looked down at her as if he was counting the stars reflected in her eyes.

“Come on,” he murmured, leading her around the back of the building. Once inside, he tugged her up the stairs.

“Where are we going?” she asked, though she knew the moment they passed her floor.

Where it had all begun for them.

They emerged on the roof, and the questions in her throat turned into a sigh. The entire area was ringed in white lights, and between the small spotlights were purple roses, their velvety petals illuminated in the darkness. With green plants blanketing every available surface except the pathway she and Dillon stood on, she felt as if she’d stepped into a walled jungle covered by a canopy of moonlight.

Her attention landed on the solar panels she must’ve missed before and everything he’d said to her last night clicked into place. “This is yours. You not only came up with the concept, it’s your building.”

He slipped his hands in his pockets and managed to look simultaneously stoic and sheepish. “Technically my parents own it.”

“You really believe in this stuff,” she said, releasing her hair from its clip. Her head still ached, but it was getting better. “Green roofs, and doing better for the environment. It’s not just about saving cash.”

“No.”

“And you designed all this. This gorgeous area, it’s all you?”

“I don’t know that it’s gorgeous, but yeah. All me. Who would I ask for help? Cory’d laugh at me if I showed him this. He’d tell me to stop screwing with flowers and do some real work.”

It wasn’t even what he said so much as the way he said it, with his jaw tight and his gaze on the skyline. As if he had no clue of the functional beauty he’d created.

“I like it when you screw with flowers,” she said quietly. She tucked the small painting under her arm and stepped closer to lay a hand on his chest.

He glanced at her, his wariness evident in every line of his face. “You could do so much more with this than I ever could. I was serious about the houses. If you’d be willing to lend some of your expertise, we could make them even better for the people who move in. Both environmentally and—Christ, what’s the word I want?”

“Artistically?” she guessed.

“Yeah.” He heaved out a breath. “When you get so close to me, it’s like all the wires cross in my head.”

“Only there?”

“No.
Fuck
no.” His grimace proved just how true that was. “But I can’t start talking about my dick when you already think I am one.”

She didn’t laugh, but she wanted to. Instead she tilted her head and removed her hand. It was far too easy to touch him, and they had to talk. “Why didn’t you tell me who you really are?”

“I did,” he said, hissing out a breath when she rolled her eyes. “Okay, I didn’t tell you the whole story. I should’ve said Cory was my brother. Who my parents were. It had never even occurred to me to hide it until you thought I was the handyman. Then I couldn’t help going along, to see what would happen. I’m used to women wanting me for my money, so you not thinking I had any and still flirting with me was a novelty.”

“The panty flingers,” she said under her breath.

His brows knitted. “Huh?”

“Go on.”

He eyed her, but continued. “I liked that you were seeing
me
, not my connection to Value Hardware. Even so, I wouldn’t have kept the lie going beyond that afternoon in the bathroom, when you were hostile about the store.” He blew out a breath. “Then there was the roof, and after that you started ranting about Value Hardware—”

“I did not rant.”

“What would you call it?”

Ranting
. “Expressing a strong, well-validated opinion.”

One side of his mouth lifted. “Fine. But your well-validated opinion made me shut my mouth, because I, well…”

“What?” she demanded.

“I wanted you.” He stared out into the darkness. She didn’t know if he was studying the high-rises or the dark hills—or even the star-studded sky—but from the clench of his fist at his side, he wasn’t moved by the scenery. “I wasn’t trying to save the world or even your business. I barely even knew Divine Flowers existed. But I knew you had the prettiest, saddest blue eyes I’d ever seen.”

She turned her head and there was the daisy watering can. The memories it brought back made her smile—and want to cry.

“I tried to tell you that first night on the roof. Not hard,” he admitted. “But I tried. Then you kissed me, and you could’ve threatened me with water torture and I wouldn’t have done a thing to end it. I’m not proud of that, but it’s the sterling truth. I would’ve said I could shoot rainbows out of my ass to keep your mouth on mine.”

She could feel herself weakening, turning to Alexa-shaped mush. If he was just spouting lines, she had to give him credit. “And after that?”

“I fell in love with your business. As soon as I walked in your store, I saw the possibilities. And I saw how happy it made you. I wanted you to succeed. Dammit, I wanted to help you, and I knew you’d never hear me out if you knew I was Cory’s brother. It was selfish, and it was stupid, but I told myself that the end result was more important than ethics. Which is bullshit.”

“Not entirely,” she said when he walked over to the concrete railing. But he didn’t seem to hear her, and she couldn’t speak over the ball that formed in her throat at the sight of him outlined in white light.

“I never meant to hurt you. I wish that I hadn’t. But I can’t take it back, and honestly, as bad as it feels to know you probably hate me, I wouldn’t go back. Yeah, it was fun pretending to be someone else for a while. Someone with fewer responsibilities, who could fish or paint or whatever the hell he wanted with his free time.”

She stared at him. Did he really think that was the image he’d projected? “You were busy every minute. Working at the apartments. Working at the donor house. You even worked your ass off for
me
.”

And that was the bottom line, wasn’t it? He hadn’t had to do any of the things he’d done for her. Helping her with the arrangements, sharing his ideas—in a rather overbearing manner, granted—and offering his support. None of that had been faked. She would never believe it.

Whatever else he’d done, he truly cared. About her. About Divine. Her heart skipped. Maybe he really did lo—

“My parents are retiring, Alexa. That means I’m going to be consumed with Value Hardware and the income properties from now on, along with the charity.” His look radiated through her right down to the soles of her feet. “And you know what? I’m glad my parents can retire, knowing their sons are in control. We’ve fucking got it, and we’re not going to run the damn business they spent their lives building into the ground. I love you, but I can’t deny who I am, for you or anyone. As much as I wished I could for a while, if that meant you’d stay in my life, I can’t. I’m sorry.” His chest rose and fell as if he was sucking in a deep breath. “God, I’m so fucking sorry.”

She walked over to him and stood at the high rail, staring down at the slumbering city below. The clutch of yellow balloons on Value Hardware’s sandwich board sign waved in the breeze, barely distinguishable at this distance. But she recognized them.

“That smiley face makes me want to punch something,” she said in a low voice.

“I know.” He chuckled. “Cory, too. Now that we’re moving into more of the lifestyle end, he bitches constantly about how he’s supposed to launch a high-end magazine when Value’s logo is a damn smiley face.”

“High-end, hmm?”

“Yes. He’s working with Vicky Townsend on it. Well, if they don’t kill each other. But now that my mom’s stepping down, we’re going to need to hire consultants on the gardening end of things.” He stroked her hair, just one slow sweep down the length of it. “You’d be perfect for the job.”

As if she’d say yes.

Please say yes.

Alexa slanted him a look. “Me, work with Cory?”

At least she hadn’t discounted it out of hand. When she’d refused to acknowledge his declaration of love, he’d thought his entire plan was doomed to fail. “You could work with me more than him. It’s his brainchild, but we’re working together. Happy fucking family and all that.” Dillon cleared his throat. “Assuming working with me would be any better.”

“I’m still figuring that out.” She stepped closer and placed her hands on his stomach. He shuddered at just that simple contact. “I’ll be pretty busy with the store. Especially since I still need to hire a designer. Nellie will be going out on maternity leave in a couple months, and if business keeps up—”

“It will,” he interjected, unable to keep his hands out of her hair. The dark wavy mass spilled over his fingers like finely spun silk. “You’re going to do amazing.”

“You probably won’t have much time to help me anymore.”

“If you can even call what I did help, then yeah, I’ll help. I’ll make the time.”

She angled her head, her glossy mouth soft and wet. He started to lean in before he caught himself, then shuddered again. Such temptation she presented without even knowing it. “Aren’t I your competition?”

“No.” He linked an arm around her waist. “We’re on the same side. We can help each other and both businesses will thrive. We’ll figure out boundaries, delineate what which store does best. And we won’t step on each other’s toes.” He glided his fingers down her cheek. “Just give me a chance, princess.”