Thorned Embrace, page 2
I couldn’t deny that there was something about Aiden that made me erratic. Doesn’t he realize that I have just as much riding on this event as he does? I know what’s at stake.
An unbidden image of a permanently closed sign showing from my window flashes through my mind. The shop abandoned with a for sale sign hanging in the otherwise empty storefront. My shop empty of everything that made it mine.
I opened this shop with my own two hands. I never asked for money or help from anyone. And I refuse to do that even now. Especially not now.
A shiver runs down my spine. It wouldn’t just be losing my business, it would be losing my home.
I glance around at my bedroom. Plants fill every flat surface. Even here, I love to be surrounded by green. Only the floor separates my shop from my apartment, and that knowledge has always brought me peace. But not tonight. Tonight, that sets me on edge. If I lost the shop, I would lose everything around me as well.
I would lose everything that makes me, me.
Shaking my head, I force the negative thoughts away. My shop can withstand losing this contract. I know it can. But losing Aiden would make things more difficult.
I unclench my fists and switch back to my portfolio, tabbing back and forth between it and the Pinterest board I’ve been working on. Roses and carnations won’t be enough for this event.
It’s time to bring out something different. Something new and exciting. Something no one will expect.
CHAPTER THREE
SHIFTING IN MY seat, I stare at the monitor. I’ve read the email three times already this morning, and I still can’t get the satisfied smirk off my face.
This rose has thorns.
It’s apparent to me that my email from last night struck a nerve, and that knowledge amuses me. It’s hard to get a rise out of Lilly, much less make her angry enough to reply with so much snark. She isn’t as unbothered by me as she would like to appear.
I know her work better than anyone. Her not recognizing that is insane.
Leaning back in my chair, I stare at the schedule for the coming weeks. Building a name for myself in this market has been a daunting task, pushing me to my limits both mentally and physically. If this event goes off smoothly, my skills as an event planner will be unmatched, solidifying my reputation as the best in the business.
The intercom system buzzes, and my eyes flick to it. Pressing the button to answer, I clear my throat. “Yes?”
The voice of my assistant, Jessica, floats through the speaker. I know what she’s about to say before she says it. “Ms. Lane is here.”
Raising my wrist, I glance at my watch. The corner of my lip tilts up in satisfaction. She’s early. Just like I knew she would be. Lilly Lane is as predictable as she is unpredictable. “Send her in.”
“Yes, sir.” The intercom clicks off, and I listen as the thud of footsteps move towards my office.
Unconsciously, I shift in my seat again, straightening my posture and my suit jacket at the same time. I run one hand through my hair.
The doorknob to my office turns, and Lilly barges into the room. There is no other way to describe her entrance. My eyes trail up from her thick heeled shoes to her green flared dress. It hugs her body except where it ends tantalizingly short above her knees. She moves into the room, and I watch mesmerized as the fabric dances around her thighs with each step she takes. Her brown hair hangs loosely down her tan back, ending in soft, undefined curls. The dress she’s wearing makes the hints of brown in her green eyes shine with a hint of rage and exasperation.
She is pure chaos.
Instantly, she’s speaking, and it takes me a moment to catch up to what she’s saying. “Mr. Cole, I brought my entire portfolio for our meeting. I hope that isn’t a problem.”
Mr. Cole, huh?
This is the first time she’s called me Mr. Cole in over a year. Irritation boils from somewhere deep inside my chest. Her formality shouldn’t bother me, but it does.
“No need, Lilly, I have your portfolio right here.”
She releases an exasperated huff and throws her canvas bag onto the table with a thud. I lean forward on my desk to view the contents spilling across its previously spotless surface. She doesn’t even acknowledge me before she’s speaking again.
“I have been up since five working on concept designs.” She pulls out pieced together images of arrangements. “I don’t know what flowers Abby likes, so I made a bunch of options.”
Shrugging off my discomfort, I stand, pushing my chair back to step around the desk to check what she’s brought. She glances at me for the first time, and my chest tightens under her stare. Green eyes beam at me that are every bit as lovely as the flowers she works with.
Glancing down at the contents on the table, I take in the designs she has created. Each one is as unique and complex as the woman who created them. I don’t know much about flowers, but even I can tell how much raw emotion and dedication went into each design.
She waits, silently watching me as I examine them. I shield my face of any emotions, because if she knew how her work affected me, I would never hear the end of it. I take a step closer, and she tenses.
My eyes flicker from her face to the pulse beating visibly on her neck.
She flips her hair over her shoulder, giving me an icy glare. “So, what do you think?”
I can do nothing for a long moment but stare at her. Her piercing gaze slices through me, and before I can come up with an appropriate response, she places her hands expectantly on her hips.
Her fierce attitude lights a fire deep inside me, but I force my eyes away from her and back to the flowers. “They look fantastic.”
Surprise flickers in her eyes before it’s replaced with a hint of panic. “Do you think Abby will like them?”
Her pulse quickens again, her chest heaving with erratic breaths. A realization hits me. She’s nervous. And it’s my fault. I put her under unnecessary pressure and made her feel this way. I need to make it right.
“Breathe.” The word leaves my mouth with a sharper edge than I intend. A command versus a request.
Her eyes narrow, but her breathing unintentionally slows. The slightest amount of satisfaction fills me. She doesn’t want to do as I say, but a part of her knows I’m right.
I need her to know she doesn’t have to worry so much. “Your work is unmatched.”
Her jaw tenses like she wants to argue with me, but I don’t give her the chance. “I shouldn’t have put so much pressure on you.”
Her eyes widen in astonishment. I push through the discomfort my words are causing me and continue. “This contract is yours. I’m a dick for making it seem like anything less.”
Her wide green eyes lock onto mine.
“Please breathe.” My voice is soft this time, changing my demand to a request, and her gaze softens.
She doesn’t want to, but she nods her head, taking a deep breath before she releases it. Surprise courses through me. She actually listened to me.
She doesn’t look away as she takes several more deep breaths. I hold her gaze for a moment longer than I should, forcing myself not to glance down at the rest of her.
“Thank you. It means a lot to me when someone can admit they’ve done something wrong.” Her lips curve in a small smile and warmth threatens to dislodge the steel in my chest.
I need to change the conversation. Now. “How much coffee have you had?”
She hesitates, the most alluring shade of pink creeping up her neck and into her cheeks. Biting her lip, I watch as she mentally counts. My eyes catch on the movement, unable to look away. “Only four.”
I resist the urge to roll my eyes. Walking back to my desk, I lean over it and press the intercom button.
Jessica’s voice fills the room the second my finger lifts off the button. “Yes, sir?”
Lilly arches an eyebrow at me.
“Is the conference room ready for us?” My gaze holds Lilly’s as an unspoken question lingers in her eyes.
“Yes, sir. It is.”
“Thank you, Jessica.” I release the button again and take purposeful steps back to where Lilly waits beside the coffee table. With one arm, I sweep up her designs, holding them carefully as I swing her bag up with my free arm and stride from the room. Reluctantly, she follows a few steps behind, having no choice but to follow me.
“I can carry that.” Her annoyed words protest my actions, but she does nothing to fight for her things.
Satisfaction thrums in my chest. Her not arguing, even a little, feels like a win. Because if I know anything at all, it’s that Lilly loves a good fight.
I lead her down the carpeted hallway to the shared conference room for the offices on this floor. With few people in this building, the conference room makes the perfect location to host clients. It’s quiet and out of the way, with plenty of space.
I hold the door open and wait for her to pass me before closing it behind us. A faint hint of lavender and roses fills my senses, and I inhale, wanting to hold on to her floral scent for a moment longer.
My gaze moves around the room, wanting to look anywhere but at her. Turning around, I am pleasantly surprised to find that Jessica has prepared a delicious spread for our clients. Set up on the side table is a tempting display of pastries, fruits, and a variety of drinks, all within easy reach of our clients.
I place Lilly’s designs and bag on the table before nodding my head at the food. “Have something.”
“I’m not your client, Mr. Cole. You don’t need to feed me.” Indignation threads through her voice. She takes in the room with perceptive eyes. Her stare touches everything. Everything except for the food on the table.
Irritation causes my blood pressure to rise. She’s always so stubborn. My voice cools as I reply. “Eat something before you pass out.”
I’m not even sure if passing out from caffeine consumption is a real thing, but from the way her hands trembled as she reached for her designs, I would have to imagine it was entirely possible. And I’m not about to let that happen.
When she doesn’t move towards the table, I shoot her with a piercing glare that could cut through steel. I speak her name through gritted teeth, forcing her to meet my gaze. “Lilly.”
Her eyes snap to mine, her pupils dilating and her cheeks tinting pink once more.
My eyes widen marginally in surprise. She likes when I say her name.
I have to stop a satisfied smirk from creeping across my face. She isn’t as unaffected by me as she would like me to believe. I relish in her physical response to me. I can’t resist the thought of how else her body would respond to me, if given the chance. Warmth threatens to spread in my chest, but I press it down.
Lilly Lane doesn’t like me. She barely tolerates my presence. Just because she likes when I say her name, doesn’t mean we could ever be more than what we are.
Her shoulders slump in defeat as she moves toward the table. She picks up the first one, taking extra care not to disturb the surrounding pastries. “Drink something.”
She rolls her eyes at me, but obliges without objection.
I turn my attention back to the designs laying haphazardly on the table. I reach to pick out the ones I like the best when Lilly steps up to the table beside me. My gaze lingers too long on one, and her arm brushes mine as she reaches out to point at the lilies in the design. “They are called stargazer lilies.”
I still my features, not reacting to the information. “Like in the letter?”
She stares up at me, a twinkle shining out of her bright eyes. “Exactly.”
I watch as the gears in her mind turn, her creative spark coming to life before my eyes. “The letter got me thinking about them. I know white lilies are more traditional for a wedding, but there’s just something about them.”
She trails off, resting one hand under her chin, staring at the design. I move to place the design on an empty stand, but Lilly shakes her head in protest. “Don’t put that one up.”
“Why not?” I put an arm between her and the design as she reaches out to take it from me.
She huffs, crossing her arms over her chest. “Abby will probably want something more traditional.”
I shake my head. I’ve only spoken with our clients twice, but Abby Stephens didn’t exactly scream traditional to me. “It’s just as good, if not better, than the other designs.”
She opens her mouth to argue, but I don’t let her speak. I know a way to end this argument. “Why not let our clients decide?”
Lilly turns her green eyes on me, narrowing them in protest. I can tell she’s trying to decipher if I’m paying her a compliment or being an ass. The war in her eyes tells me she clearly can’t decide. And I love to keep her guessing.
I glance over my shoulder at the clock, placing the other designs in my hands on the waiting stands. “Just accept the compliment, Lilly.”
A small smile lights her face. “Don’t tell me what to do.”
Smoothing my features, I stare at her, unable to look away. “I wouldn’t dare. You wouldn’t listen, anyway.”
A laugh escapes her lips, and she stares at me in wide-eyed surprise. “Mark your calendars, everyone.” She glances around as if there is anyone in the room but us. “Aiden Cole has a sense of humor.”
I’ve witnessed her laugh a thousand times, but she’s never smiled at me like this before. I want to freeze time, trapping it forever in my mind. But I can’t.
“Don’t get used to it.” I huff, fighting the smile that pulls at my lips.
She pulls the rest of the designs into a neat pile and moves to the seat on the left side of the table. “I wouldn’t dream of it, Aiden.”
And just like that, I am Aiden again. But before I can respond, a knock sounds from the door, and Jessica peaks her head into the room.
The moment shatters, and our work begins.
CHAPTER FOUR
“ABBY STEPHENS AND Spencer Grant have arrived, Mr. Cole.” Jessica steps back and makes way for the couple to enter before she leaves, closing the door quietly behind her.
I can’t help but stare as they enter the room. My attention alternates between them.
Abby is exactly like I remember, with flaming red hair, cheeks with adorable freckles, and bright blue eyes. Spencer Grant stands stoically beside her, looking like he just stepped out of a magazine.
Everything about them screams power couple. Like they could walk into any room and turn things to benefit them.
My eyes slide to Aiden, gauging his reaction to our clients.
Running a hand through his hair, a pleasant smile settles over his face. “Mr. Grant, Ms. Spencer, what a pleasure to meet you both in person.”
Abby’s eyes widen, taking in the man beside me. “Aiden Cole! The man, the myth, the legend.” She says it with a laugh, moving into the room to shake his hand. “It’s so nice to meet you. My mother speaks highly of you.”
A genuine smile slides onto Aiden’s face. I try to conceal my shock, but it’s all too clear from my expression. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him smile. Not like this. “She is too kind. Please be sure to tell Julie I said hello.”
“I’m sure you’ll be seeing her soon.” A small chuckle bubbles from deep within Spencer, and Abby’s eyes slide to him, a knowing smile lighting her face. “We haven’t announced our engagement yet. But we are sure she will have some feelings about it.”
So I was correct in my assumption that they have been keeping their engagement a secret.
Abby’s eyes shift to me, recognition sliding over her face. “Lilly?”
She rushes forward, extending her arms without hesitation as I step forward to greet her. Astonishment rushes through me, but I eagerly accept the unexpected hug.
Abby and I were never close, but I always liked her. I’ve known Abby since high school geometry, but I haven’t seen her since she moved to Chicago three years ago. “Abby, it is so good to see you.”
She squeezes me tightly before taking a step back to take a long look at me. “I cannot thank you both enough for taking this project on such short notice.”
I shake my head slightly, feeling bewildered by her statement. Why would we not accept? She could have asked me the week before and I still would have jumped at the chance. But I keep my bewilderment to myself, and channel my inner Aiden with my response. “Of course. It’s our honor to be a part of your special day.”
Abby turns extending one hand to Spencer, silently asking him to join her. “This is Spencer.”
He moves forward, intertwining his fingers with hers. Ice-blue eyes move from Aiden to me, and I know he’s evaluating us.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you both.” His deep voice matches his sharp features perfectly.
A powerful hand extends towards me, and I take it. His handshake is firm, but gentle enough that he doesn’t hurt me. I respect a man who can change his handshake to match the person he’s greeting. I’ve never understood why men feel the need to destroy each other’s hands during a handshake.
“We are excited to start the planning process. Abby has lots of ideas.” He looks down at her, his eyes full of emotion. My own knees grow weak over the exchange.
I’ve seen couples in love. I own a flower shop after all. But I’ve never seen someone look at another person the way Spencer looks at Abby. Like the world starts and stops with her.
Aiden opens a laptop I hadn’t noticed and pulls up an itinerary. “Shall we jump right into it?”
They both nod their heads, and Abby reaches into her bag to pull out a binder. It must weigh several pounds, because when she sets it on the table, an audible thud fills the room and the table shakes slightly. I haven’t worked with many brides before, but my eyes widen as I take in the masterpiece before me.
I steal a glance at Spencer, but he is completely unfazed by the binder in front of them. My eyebrows raise of their own accord. I can’t help but be impressed. A binder like that would intimidate most men. But I get the feeling Spencer isn’t most men.
My eyes flick towards Aiden, needing his reaction as well. A familiar smirk tilts the corner of his mouth. “I must say, that is the biggest binder I’ve ever seen.”
