Rushing Amy: A Love and Football Novel (6 page)

“Hi. Are you Samantha?” Amy asked.

“No. Samantha’s not here right now.” The woman glanced at the flowers. “Those are gorgeous.”

“Thanks so much. These are for her.” Amy handed over the floral box.

“I’ll make sure she gets them. Thanks for stopping by.” The woman gave Amy another huge smile as she shut the door. Maybe she was Samantha’s roommate. Amy spent the drive back to the shop imagining that Samantha was a beautiful, flawless eighteen-year-old blonde. If she ever saw Matt again, she’d tie his lungs together.

She spent the next week or so worrying about the fact that her business was quiet. It seemed most people were pretty tapped out after Valentine’s Day. There were a few walk-in customers, but not the amount of business she’d hoped for. The phone was so silent Amy was almost caught up on the cleaning and bookwork, too. She was thrilled to hear the bells on her front door ring on a cold, rainy Wednesday morning. Until she saw who’d entered the shop.

Matt Stephens stood at the front counter once more.

Today he wore jeans, loafers, and a dark blue v-neck sweater that matched his eyes. Amy took a deep breath. The weasel was back and more gorgeous than ever.

Her momentary elation over having a customer dissolved in a stew of nerves, and the memory of the card he’d sent with the last bouquet flashed through her mind. She hadn’t had a reaction to a guy like this since she was in middle school. Take that back, maybe never.

“Why are you here?” she said.

Every time Matt talked to her, she had the feeling that it was all he could do not to burst into laughter. Today was no exception.

“You know, I could have sworn I just walked into a flower shop.” Isn’t the correct question “How may I help you?” he asked. Amy gave him a stare. “Nice to see you, too.”

“Whatever.” She straightened the pens in the container on the front counter.

“I’d like to send some flowers,” he insisted.

“Sure, you would.”

“Someone must have peed in your Wheaties this morning. What’s the problem?” He leaned over the counter a bit. “Did you have another tequila incident?”

“No. I’m off tequila, probably for life. May I help you?”

Amy pulled an order pad out from beneath the counter as she picked up a pen. He took a deep breath and tried to arrange his features into a smile. She tried to ignore the fact that her blood was racing through her veins, she suddenly forgot how to breathe, and she wanted to rub all over him like a cat. Maybe, just maybe, she could duct tape his mouth shut so he wouldn’t say something to piss her off. Then again, he couldn’t kiss her with duct tape on his mouth, and God, she wondered what it would be like to kiss him.

She wondered if he tasted as good as he smelled.

He was a vile seducer, she reminded herself. He asked other women out while he was involved with the wonderful and charming Samantha. She’d never met Samantha, but she was positive that Samantha was a fantastic person who had no idea she was involved with the devil incarnate. Well, maybe that was a bit strong, but he was a lousy cheater, and other women should be alerted to this fact. It would be a service to mankind. Well, womankind. Something like that.

His mouth was moving again; she couldn’t stop gawking at his lips . . . Oh, hell. She swallowed hard, which was difficult with the microscopic amount of moisture left in her mouth. She resisted the impulse to fidget.

“Would you make a mixed bouquet of flowers this time? She likes springtime flowers like tulips, daffodils, that kind of stuff.” He was writing the card as he spoke. “She doesn’t need them in a vase either, because she’s got plenty of them. Just the arrangement, please.”

“How much would you like to spend?”

“A hundred dollars. I’d like it if they were there by tomorrow afternoon. She’s in Laurelhurst.”

She nodded. “They will be. I’ll need her address and your credit card.”

He extracted the credit card from his wallet once more and took the pen out of her now-slack fingers. She’d met guys before that tripped her trigger, but nothing like this. She wished she could rally enough to pretend like she was in control of the situation. He was a player to the tenth power, and Amy couldn’t believe she was stooping so low as to help him send flowers to some woman he was probably cheating on Samantha with. This was not what she’d envisioned when she opened her shop.

He’d written down the address on Amy’s order pad, and handed her another envelope addressed to “Pauline.” In the meantime, he leaned against the counter.

“So, Amy, how about some coffee?”

She wanted to scream. He sent flowers to two different women in the past week, but he wanted
her
to have coffee with him?

“No, thank you,” she said automatically. Maybe she could drive the pen through his temple. Someone would have to clean up the mess, though. Obviously, she’d be awarded the Nobel Peace Prize for services to humanity, or at the very least, to vulnerable single women everywhere.

Matt’s eyebrows lifted, and he spoke with exaggerated patience.

“Maybe you should surprise me and say “Yes.” Do you know the word “Yes?” I’ll even sound it out for you,” he teased. He captured her chin in one big, warm hand, while bestowing another heart-stopping grin on her. Her heart skipped several beats in response. “Yesss,” he said as he nodded. “Yes, Matt, I’d love to have coffee with you.”

“N—”

He put his fingers over her lips. “I’m going to keep asking you till you say ‘Yes.’”

“The answer is not going to change.” It came out pretty muffled.

“Yes, it will,” he confidently informed her.

“Uh-uh,” was all she could get out. He didn’t stop smiling. Amy belatedly realized she’d offered another challenge to a man who believed that only wimps walked away from them. Plus, she was the
tiniest
bit flattered he kept asking.

“I’ll see you in a couple of days, Amy.” He moved to the front door, turned back and called out, “Don’t read the card,” as he walked out of the shop.

Of course she read the card.

“Hey, hot stuff,” he’d written, “you’re still my best girl. XO, Matt.”

T
HE NEXT MORNING,
Matt stopped in again. He wore a beautifully tailored charcoal pinstriped suit, a medium blue dress shirt, and a soft gray silk tie with interlocking diamond shapes in shades of blue. Amy couldn’t figure out how a guy who probably spent more than her monthly shop rental payment on his attire could still have rumpled hair. Then again, some woman probably spent most of last night running her fingers through it. Not that she cared about what he did or anything like that.

She had plenty of other things to occupy her time instead of mooning over Matt Stephens. Unfortunately the second he walked into her shop, she forgot all of them.

He’d already selected an enclosure card, and was writing away by the time she stepped up to the front counter.

“Fifi.”

“Matt,” she said, attempting a disinterested smile.

He glanced up for a moment and waited till he caught her eye, and then the corners of his mouth turned up. He didn’t say anything. She wasn’t giving in, either. They were locked in a private battle of wills. Amy let out a sigh. She wondered how many times she would have to see him before she didn’t react like a twelve-year-old girl confronted with her favorite boy band in person.

“Aren’t you a little overdressed for doing whatever it is you do during the day?” she said.

“Not for lunch with the PSN executives.” He finished his composition, inserted it back into the envelope, and studied her. “Want to join us?”

“Excuse me?”

“We’re going to the Metropolitan Grill. Imagine how much sweeter your disposition will be after some nine-layer chocolate cake.” He gave her a huge grin. She smiled in spite of herself.

Amy had experienced that chocolate cake before. It was the most delicious thing she’d ever eaten, and the Met’s food was fabulous, but she wasn’t going there anytime soon on her budget.

“No, thank you.” Even if she were going, and she had no intention of doing so, she wasn’t exactly dressed for it.

“Cheesecake?” he cajoled.

“Nope.”

“Not a dessert girl, huh?” He gave her a pitying smile. “That’s too bad.”

“I love dessert,” she burst out, and then realized she’d just played into his hands. Again. She rubbed her forehead with a free hand while yanking an order form out of the apron she wore. “Can I do something for you?”

The look in his eyes shifted, reminding her of sultry summer nights and tangled sheets—otherwise known as things she would never, ever be sharing with him.

“Of course. Would you please send those big white lilies to the following?” He took the order form out of Amy’s fingers, scrawled a name and address, and handed her his credit card. “Let’s spend a hundred dollars.”

She completed the paperwork, handed him his receipt and his credit card, and he turned to walk away. He paused at the front door.

“My offer still stands, Amy.”

“What offer is that?”

“How about lunch?”

She shook her head vigorously. “Thank you, but no.”

The dress clothes made his eyes look even more startlingly blue. The jacket outlined and accentuated already broad shoulders. He brushed her hand with his when he took the receipt from her; she almost jumped out of her skin. She was cracking like ice on Lake Washington in March, but she did everything she could to make sure he had no idea. She wondered how many more times he would ask before he finally gave up.

Did she really
want
him to give up?

“See you later, then.” He pushed the door open, and strolled through it, looking back with a wink.

Amy scurried back into her workroom with the order and the card. He’d left just in time.

She was such a sucker.

This time, he’d left the envelope flap open.

“Rebecca. Thanks for last night. You were great,” she read.

Chapter Five

M
ATT WALKED INTO
Seattle’s Metropolitan Grill shortly after he left the flower shop that morning, still laughing. Any chance to see Fifi was the highlight of his day.

He knew she was reading the enclosure cards he’d written at her shop. She was going to go into orbit when she read the card he enclosed in the flowers he was sending to Rebecca, the local FOX affiliate sports reporter. Rebecca had helped him out by letting him borrow her cameraman for the interview he’d done the previous evening with the Sharks’ head coach, but Amy would believe they were romantically involved. He couldn’t wait to see what she was going to do about it.

The other bouquet went to his mom, Pauline, who’d texted him immediately with, “Loved the flowers. I’m guessing the florist is the one you’re currently going broke over.”

If this kept up, he was going to have to start sending flowers to women he’d never even met, just for a chance to talk with Amy again. He was enjoying pushing her buttons. Typically women approached him. This time, though, he wanted more. It was refreshing that she made him work for her attention. Cat and mouse was always fun, but it was even better when he knew his plans for her were bigger than coffee or lunch.

M
ATT GLANCED AROUND
the bar area. He didn’t see the PSN party, but Brandon McKenna was advancing on him from the lobby. Matt stuck out his hand.

“McKenna.”

“Stephens.” The two men briefly embraced, and Brandon slapped Matt on the back. “Did you get lost on your way to my wedding?”

“So I was a little late.”

“Shane told me he saw you in the bar later on.”

“Yeah. I screwed up, man. I’m sorry. Did you get the espresso machine?”

“Yes, and thank you. Emily was thrilled. I’m wondering if I’m going to have to go back to school for another master’s to learn how to use it.” Brandon shook his head a bit. “One-button latte, my ass.”

“The machine comes with a free class on how to use it, big guy.” Matt leaned on the bar. “How’s your bride doing?”

“Her life is perfect. She’s married to me.”

Matt had to laugh. Brandon was obviously joking, but he quickly pulled an iPhone out of his pocket, punched a few buttons, and held the screen up for Matt to admire.

“The wedding photographer sent us a file of the pictures yesterday. I keep asking myself how I got so damn lucky. Look at her.” The red-haired Emily in her wedding gown, holding her bouquet with a filmy veil cascading around her, smiled out at him from Brandon’s phone. “Her ex is a real ass, but I sent him the best bottle of single-malt I could find. He did me a huge solid.”

“So, how’s married life?”

“We just got back from Kauai last night. My bride was still sleeping when I left the house.”

Matt signaled the bartender. “You must be here to meet the PSN guys as well.”

Brandon slid the phone back into his pocket as he nodded. “I’m job-shadowing next week. What are you up to?”

“We’re talking about the draft and training camp coverage. Plus, I’ll get to eat a steak on someone else’s expense account, which is always a good thing.” Matt ordered a couple of iced teas, and the bartender put some coasters down. The affluent and influential of Seattle were drifting in for their lunch meetings as well.

“Hey. I wasn’t sure how to bring this one up, so I’ll just spit it out,” Brandon told him.

“That sounds ominous. Maybe I should have ordered a couple of beers instead.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Brandon chuckled a little. “What’s your status these days? Still seeing the woman you met in London?”

“That would be a
no
. I enjoyed her company, but ten hours on a jet is not my idea of fun. Plus, she has no interest in relocating.” Matt handed the bartender a twenty for their tab, and took a swallow of the iced tea that was put in front of him. “Why? Are you asking me out?”

“Emily has something up her sleeve. I thought you might appreciate some advance warning.”

“She wants to ask me out, then.”

“She’s off the market as of two weeks ago for the rest of her life.” Brandon touched his glass against Matt’s and took a healthy swallow. “My beautiful wife has an equally beautiful sister who’s single. Amy’s in her mid-thirties, owns a flower shop, and Emily doesn’t care for the guy she’s going out with. She’s convinced herself that you and Amy would be perfect for each other, and she thought we should all have dinner together so it won’t look like such a set-up.” Brandon put his glass back down on the bar. “Did I mention Amy has had Sharks season tickets for five years now? She loves football. She was quizzing me about Sharks defensive sets the other day.”