Chapter Five
The flower shop had been busy all morning. Three arrangements, two corsages, and a funeral wreath that had taken the better part of an hour.
After setting the wreath against the cooler door, Indy stepped back to inspect it. White lilies, dark greenery, and a ribbon the client had wanted in a certain shade of burgundy that had driven Indy crazy trying to match.
It looked perfect.
Turning around, he found something else to do.
That was how the morning had gone. Find a task, complete it, find another one immediately.
The cooler needed restocking. The display near the window needed rotating. The lavender bundles in the back needed trimming and retying because he’d noticed the rubber bands were sitting too low on the stems.
He was tackling it now, at ten in the morning, with his hands moving faster than the task actually required, because if he stopped moving, his brain would get stuck on those demons. Would they come back? Had lying to them only made things worse? Would they crush him into dust for hiding Malik?
Who was he kidding? Indy couldn’t stop thinking about that kiss last night. He’d felt Malik’s hard bulge pressed against him. If Indy hadn’t been so tired, his ass would’ve been in the air, his hole lubed and ready.
Indy was dying to find out if Malik’s cock size matched the size of his boot. Please let it match.
His gaze slid toward his mate who was dusting a spotless shelf, then lowered to his rounded ass. Indy bit his lips, imaging his face buried between those muscled cheeks.
Malik looked over his shoulder, as if Indy’s dirty thoughts were broadcasting. Indy quickly glanced away, face flaming hot.
The bell above the door chimed.
Indy’s hands went still for a second before he continued tying off the lavender bundle in his grip.
Mrs. Park walked in, here to pick up her weekly arrangement, the same standing order she’d had since before Indy had bought the shop from its previous owner.
He smiled at her, and they talked about her granddaughter’s school play and whether dahlias were still in season and whether she should try something with more yellow in it this week.
“More yellow.” Indy was already moving toward the cooler. “Excellent instincts.”
Mrs. Park left with sunflowers and a spray of cream-colored freesia. He watched her leave and felt the shop settle back into quiet around him.
The lavender was still on the counter.
He started working on it again.
The back room smelled like damp soil and flower food and the green coolness of cut stems sitting in buckets of water. Indy had spent the first hour of the morning in there, prepping stock, and Malik had been in there with him.
His mate had driven him to the shop but stopped for coffee first.
Indy had spent the morning distracted by thick muscles, because Malik in a small flower shop was an experience he hadn’t been prepared for.
The man was enormous. Every time Malik had moved past him or reached for a tool Indy had asked for, the air in the room would reorganized itself around him. Twice he’d dropped his pruning shears, making an excuse about being slightly wet.
A flat-out lie.
Between customers and completing tasks, Indy explained the difference between conditioning stems and hydrating them, which were not the same thing.
Malik had listened without interrupting, as if he was really trying to learn.
He’d asked questions, like why certain flowers lasted longer than others, and Indy had answered in more detail than was probably necessary.
His mate would nod slowly, then say hmm in a way that made Indy’s cock grow plump.
It was a problem.
The demon thing was also a problem, but an issue Indy momentarily forgot about. The Malik thing kept ambushing him at every opportunity, turning his morning into one long ass torture session.
Indy was so horny, he was ready to hump the counter.
Finishing the last bundle, he set it with the others, then straightened and rolled his shoulders. Through the front window, the street outside looked completely ordinary, people walking past, a car pulling up to park, a dog being walked by someone in a yellow jacket.
Indy turned back toward the office.
“You want more coffee?” he called. “I’m making another pot. The first one was good, but the afternoon pot is always better because I use slightly more grounds, which I probably shouldn’t admit because it sounds like I was holding back earlier and I wasn’t. It’s just a ratio thing.”
There was a brief pause from the back room.
“Sounds good,” Malik said.
Indy filled the machine and stood next to it while it ran, listening to it gurgle. The smell of coffee beginning to brew was so rich and bold that Indy inhaled deeply.
He was attracted to his mate. This was not news. The humongous guy was currently occupying approximately a third of his back room and making the space look extra small, while Indy was making coffee and trying not to think about the fact that last night Malik had kissed him against a wall.
Also, he was trying not to think about demons but failing at both simultaneously.