Chapter 1
CHAPTER ONE
Athena
My shop, Wild Lilac, seems to be the place all the hot guys in Manhattan come to when they’re looking to impress their certain someone with flowers.
Today is a perfect example of that. One of my first customers this morning was a hotshot hockey player. I only know that because I saw his face on a billboard in Times Square during the playoffs last season.
After he bought and paid for the perfect bouquet for his special lady, a looker in a suit strolled through the door.
It took him over an hour to choose the arrangement he wanted. I was happy to oblige since it cost a small fortune. The flowers will be delivered tomorrow before he goes to the yoga studio his girlfriend owns to drop to one knee to ask her to spend her life with him.
I look over at the man who walked in less than a minute ago.
He’s sexy-as-sin.
His dark blond hair is pushed back from his face and skimming the collar of his black button-down shirt. The sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, so the black and gray tattoos that cover his muscular forearms are visible.
He’s giving off a semi-corporate vibe since he’s dressed in black pants and shoes.
I turn to the side to stop myself from staring at him.
“Excuse me?”
If there ever was a perfect voice for phone sex, it belongs to this man.
I look over at his face. His jaw is covered with a trimmed beard. His blue eyes pierce through me as he stares at me.
The man is a gorgeous giant. He must be at least six-foot-five.
“Can I help you?” I ask cheerfully from behind my checkout counter because swooning over the clientele will not pay the rent on this place.
“I need some flowers.” He huffs out a laugh. “Nice flowers. I want something extra special for the woman I’m seeing.”
Something deflates inside of me. It’s not as though I was expecting him to be in my floral boutique to buy a bouquet for his mom.
That mad rush happens in May. It’s late September.
The bulk of my recent orders have been gestures of undying devotion, new baby arrivals, birthdays, or sadly, red rose heavy arrangements to honor the recently departed.
“Are you celebrating something?” I ask not only because that will help me determine what type of bouquet to suggest, but curiosity is a motivating factor too.
“I’m celebrating her.” His tone softens. “She’s an incredible woman.”
She’s a lucky woman.
His eyes skim the front of the black sweater I’m wearing. “What’s your name?”
That’s not a question I’m asked often since I usually have a nametag pinned to my chest, but this sweater and sharp objects don’t play well together.
“Athena.”
“Nice.” He flashes me a smile. “I’m Wolf.”
“Wolf?” I question back because that has to be a nickname. “Your name is Wolf?”
His hand jumps to his chin. Smoothing his fingertips over his beard, he huffs out a laugh. “It is. I’m Liam Wolf.”
“Liam,” I repeat his first name because it suits him perfectly in some abstract, unexplainable way.
The breadth of his shoulders and his height make him intimidating to look at, but his eyes and the warmth in his voice tell a different story.
I’m running a business, so I go to the heart of the matter. “What kind of flowers are you thinking of?”
“Whatever takes your breath away,” he says.
Never mind the flowers; that statement did the trick.
Speechless, I stare at him.
He bows his chin. “I’m looking for an arrangement that will surprise the hell out of my girlfriend. It has to be unique. Do you think you can handle that, Athena?”
I can handle anything, even creating beautiful bouquets for men like him to give to other women.
“I’m up for the job.” I smile.
Sliding a credit card and a sealed envelope toward me, he takes a pause. “Her name and address are written on there. I need that and the flowers sent to her today.”
All of my deliveries have already gone out, and it’s nearing five o’clock.
“My delivery cut-off is at two.” I glance down at the large silver watch on his wrist. “I can have this in her hands tomorrow.”
“It has to be today.” He leans both of his palms on the counter. “I’ll pay extra if you can get it to her before eight.”
Who am I to stand in the way of true love? I have nothing planned for tonight, so I do my good deed for the day. “I can take it to her personally. No extra charge.”
His eyes scan my face. “If you can make that happen, I’ll be forever in your debt.”
I set to work writing out an invoice for an elaborate arrangement of the most expensive flowers I have in stock. If I’m going to do this tonight, I might as well do it right. I hope the woman on the receiving end of the bouquet and the note realizes just how lucky she is.
“You’ll confirm once they’re in Wren’s hand?”
I glance at the front of the envelope and the masculine handwriting.
Even the way he writes his girlfriend’s name is sexy.
Wren Holson
Beneath it is an address in Tribeca.
My gaze shifts to his handsome face. “The recipient usually confirms the delivery in a phone call or text to the sender.”
That goes without saying. Most people who receive flowers can’t wait to thank the person who sent them.
I overheard my fair share of those calls when I worked at a floral shop during summer break in high school.
I handled any deliveries that could be made on foot.
It saved the shop owner a nice chunk of change, and it gave me insight into how much an unexpected gift of fragrant blossoms can instantly alter a person’s mood.
“Wren has a shoot that starts at seven.” He taps his finger on the envelope.
“She’s a photographer. This is her studio address.
It might take her a minute to get in touch with me after you deliver the flowers, so I’d appreciate confirmation.
A text will do just fine since I’ll be busy with a couple of appointments at my office tonight. ”
I push a pad of paper and a pen at him. “Jot down your number on here.”
His lips curve into a smile. “Sure thing, Athena.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I watch as he writes out the digits. I’ll program it into my phone for the night, but by tomorrow morning it will be history.
I finish up the invoice and slide it toward him. “Have a look over this and see if that works for you.”
His gaze catches mine. Without a glance down, he studies my face. “Charge it to my card and add a twenty percent tip.”
I already added a generous rush fee to the total, but since he hasn’t looked at the invoice, he doesn’t realize that.
I play to the moment as I pick up his card to run it through the register. “I’ll add ten percent to this order. You can tip me twenty on the next bouquet.”
“The next?” His brows perk.
“Once you see how grateful your girlfriend is, you’ll be back.”
I must have said that line hundreds of times since I opened the shop last year, but today it feels different. There’s more hope in my words than confidence. I’d like to see him again, even if it’s just for the innocent banter when he orders Wren Holson another bouquet.
“I have no doubt I’ll be back.” He flashes me a gorgeous smile. “I’ll leave you to work your magic. Thanks for everything, Athena.”
“Thank you, Liam.”
“I don’t hear that often,” he says, lowering his voice.
An ache settles somewhere deep inside of me from the rasp in his tone. “You don’t hear what often?”
“My name.” He pauses. “Most people call me Wolf.”
I tilt my chin up, taking another long look at his handsome face. “I like the name Liam.”
“Do you?” he asks with a cock of his brow. “I like your name too. What’s your last name?”
I give it up because a glance at the store’s website reveals that tidbit of information. “Millett. Athena Millett.”
“That’s beautiful.” He leans forward. “I’ve never met anyone named Athena before.”
I rub a hand over my forehead, suddenly aware of what I must look like to him.
I’ve been at work since six a.m., and it shows.
My long golden brown hair is cinched up in a tight ponytail, but a few wayward strands have fallen loose.
The black liner I applied around my blue eyes has to be smudged by now, along with my mascara.
My soft pink lipstick found a new home on the metal straw of my water bottle.
I drag myself back to the reason he’s here. “I should get started on Wren’s arrangement.”
He steals a glance at his watch. “I need to get back to my office. Thanks again.”
Shoving a hand through his hair, he turns and walks out of my store, leaving me with the task of creating something beautiful for his girlfriend.
Dropping my gaze to the counter in front of me, I realize he left me with something else.
His credit card.
It looks like I’ll see Liam Wolf again very soon.