Chapter 5
CHAPTER 5
ANDREA
T he cab of Ace’s truck feels impossibly small as I hesitate at the passenger door, my pulse already quickening
“Second thoughts, Andrea?” His voice breaks through my hesitation, one eyebrow raised in challenge.
I shake my head, then turn to Ace. His eyes meet mine, lingering a beat too long before I look away, focusing on adjusting the air vent. The morning light catches the angles of his jaw, the stubble he hasn’t bothered to shave. My traitorous body responds with a flush of heat I fight to ignore.
“We’ve got a good drive ahead of us.” He starts the engine. “You bring road trip snacks, or am I supposed to survive on your sparkling conversation?”
“My conversation is sparkling,” I say, keeping my tone light. “But there are granola bars in my bag if you get desperate. I figured we’d get something on the way.”
I’m done waiting after today if nothing changes. Three years of this dance. Three years of watching him back down whenever Jax appeared, like at Leesa’s birthday party last year. Ace and I were having fun and flirting, then Jax walked over, and Ace stepped away so quickly that I felt cold in his absence.
The memory hardens my resolve as we pull onto the main road. We round a sharp curve, and his arm shoots out instinctively to brace me, his palm warm against my shoulder. The touch sends electricity straight to my core, and neither of us breathes for a moment. He withdraws slowly, his fingers dragging slightly against my sleeve.
“Sorry,” he says, but his eyes have a fire in them that suggests he isn’t sorry for touching me.
“It’s okay,” I murmur, not trusting my voice.
The road curves again, and Ace focuses on navigating the switchback. I study his profile—the strong line of his nose, the set of his jaw, the way his dark hair curls slightly at his neck where it needs a trim. He’s beautiful in a rugged, masculine way that makes my knees go weak.
But it’s never been just physical. I’ve known plenty of attractive men. What keeps me circling back to Ace is the depth beneath the surface—the loyalty he shows Jax and his men, the gentleness I’ve seen when he thinks no one’s watching, and the intelligence that flashes through his jokes.
He downshifts for another curve, the play of muscle in his forearm making my mind wander to dangerous territory—imagining those arms braced above me, his hips pressing me into sheets, his mouth hot against my skin.
I shift in my seat, crossing my legs tightly. But no matter what I do, the flame of my desire burns hotter and hotter, making my core throb and ache.
“You okay over there?” His voice sounds rougher than usual.
“Fine,” I say quickly.
* * *
The greenhouse door chimes as we enter. A wall of fragrance hits me instantly—roses, lilies, hyacinth—their mingled scents rich and intoxicating. Sunlight streams through the glass panels, turning the space into a kaleidoscope of colors and shadows.
“Wow. This is so gorgeous.”
“Andrea and Ace?” A woman in a green apron approaches. “You’re here for the Jackson wedding flowers?”
“That’s us,” I confirm, unable to keep my eyes from traveling across the rows of blooms.
“Everything’s ready in the back. Feel free to look around while I finish the paperwork, then you can pull up out back and we’ll help you load the flowers up.”
As she disappears behind a beaded curtain, I drift toward a display of white lilies. Their trumpet-shaped blooms unfurl with a delicate grace.
“I’ve never seen you like this before.” Ace’s voice comes from behind me.
I turn to find him watching me, his expression unreadable. “Like what?”
“Soft.” He steps closer. “At the hardware store, you’re all business. Efficient.”
Heat crawls up my neck. “I like flowers.”
“I can see that.” His eyes don’t leave my face. “It suits you.”
“My mom used to garden,” I admit, moving toward a cluster of pink roses. “I’d help her every weekend. Even after I became a teenager and it wasn’t cool anymore.”
“I didn’t know that.”
We move deeper into the greenhouse, between tables laden with arranged centerpieces for the wedding. White and lavender blooms nestled in silver containers, exactly as Leesa had described. The florist has done beautiful work.
Ace trails behind me, close enough that I can feel his presence even when I don’t see him.
“These are gorgeous,” I say, stopping at a particularly lush arrangement.
When I turn, Ace is standing closer than I expected, his eyes darker than usual.
“What?” I ask, suddenly breathless.
“Those flowers have nothing on you. You’re more gorgeous than anything here.”
My heart skips a beat as I process what Ace said, and then he’s closing the distance between us. He reaches up, cradles my face, and lowers his mouth to mine. Our kiss moves from soft to intense so fast that I moan as I wrap my arms around him.
My body melts against his, years of restraint dissolving into hot, pure need. His arms encircle me, pulling me tighter as he deepens our kiss. My body lights up with desire, and suddenly, everything feels possible.
When we finally break apart, I’m trembling. Ace presses his forehead to mine, his breath coming fast.
“I’ve wanted to do that since the first day I saw you,” he confesses.
I smile, about to respond, when his phone buzzes insistently in his pocket. The intrusion of reality into our perfect moment.
Ace pulls back reluctantly, glancing at the screen. “It’s Jax.”
A small frown creases his brow as he silences the call. Then, he grins. “We’ll have to hide this from your brother.”
The words hit me like a sledgehammer and I go completely still. “What?” I step back, crossing my arms over my chest. But he just looks at me like nothing is wrong, like he didn’t just insult me.
Three years of waiting for him to stand up to Jax, and he says we have to hide. He’s still unable to stand up to my brother.
“Andrea?” Confusion clouds his expression.
“Let’s just get the flowers and get back on the road.” My voice comes out flat. All the promise and joy of our kiss is gone.
“What happened?” Ace steps toward me, but I sidestep him, moving toward the back room where our order waits.
“Nothing.” Everything. “We need to load these. We need to be back soon.”
The florist emerges with paperwork, and I sign without seeing the page. My body goes through the motions while my heart sinks.
For all his talk about risk and wanting more, when the moment came, he defaulted to the same pattern that’s kept us in limbo for three years.
When the last arrangement is carefully placed in the truck bed, I climb into the passenger seat without a word. It’s going to be a long ride home.
I’m done waiting for a man who won’t stand up to my brother.