Chapter 20 Jane
JANE
It’s a beautiful day. And maybe it’s just because I’m in an incredible mood, but even the flowers in my shop smell more fragrant.
I’ll admit, I fell back asleep after Gio left this morning—before waking up in a panicked rush, as usual, because I failed to set an alarm at all this time.
But miraculously, Jackson managed to get us out the door.
And now that I’m at the shop, my heart rate back to normal, I can’t help smiling as I go about my daily tasks.
Last night might have been the best night of my life, and I’m already looking forward to seeing Gio again tonight.
Somehow, the world just feels like a better place.
And while I’m always conscious about offering a pleasant customer experience for the people who step into my shop, today, I can genuinely greet them with an enthusiasm I usually reserved for the time I spend with my son.
Maybe it’s just my imagination, but even the plants seem more vibrant and alive as I water them and trim the stems of my most recent bouquet flowers.
By the time noon rolls around, I’ve managed to be more productive than I thought possible, and I smile as the bell over the door rings, announcing a lunchtime customer.
“Welcome to Bloss—” My words fall short as I turn to greet the person, only to find Gio filling the width of the threshold with his broad shoulders. “Hi,” I say, suddenly breathless as I dust my hands on a rag and step out from behind the counter.
“Hi,” he greets me, his white-toothed smile wide and unfettered as he lets the glass door swing closed behind him.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, the question sounding much less accusatory this time.
Gio lifts a picnic basket from behind him. “I was hoping you’d be willing to close the shop for lunch so I can take you for a walk and a picnic.”
My heart flutters at the sweet gesture, and while I don’t usually take that kind of lunch break—preferring to eat a quick bite in the back when the lunchtime rush is done—I can’t think of anything I would like better than a bit of time alone with Gio.
“That sounds nice,” I agree. “Let me just lock up.”
Taking the drawer of cash from the register, I put it back in the safe, then grab my purse and keys before stepping from the back room once more.
As I approach Gio, he wraps an arm around my waist, pulling my body flush against his and arching my back as he leans in to kiss me.
Heat crackles across my skin, and I try to maintain my composure as he leaves me breathless in an instant.
Then, before I know what’s happening, he pulls away again, his arm dropping to take my hand and lead me toward the door.
I’m not used to such bold displays of affection—but it’s definitely something I’m willing to wrap my mind around.
I quickly flip the Open sign to Closed, adjusting the clock on it to say I’ll be back in an hour.
Then I lock the deadbolt and follow Gio to a shiny silver Volvo.
“Where are we going?” I ask as he opens the passenger-side door for me.
“You’ll see,” he promises, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.
Stealing another quick kiss, he closes my door for me and rounds the front of the car to put the picnic basket in the seat behind him before he gets in on the driver’s side.
Traffic in downtown is always bustling, but Gio clearly seems to know what he’s doing as he weaves through the city.
I recognize the Lincoln Park Conservatory as soon as we pull into the parking lot, and I glance in his direction, both confused and silently thrilled by his choice.
“It’s not the botanical gardens,” he says, his smile sheepish. “But I didn’t think you could spare enough time in the middle of the day to do the hour drive. Maybe we can make that a weekend trip—with Jackson.”
My heart swells at the suggestion—and that he would include my son without question. “That sounds nice,” I agree. “But this is wonderful too. It’s been a long time since I’ve come here.”
“Yeah?” he asks. “Well, I thought we could eat at the park then wander around inside until you have to get back.”
“That sounds great.”
We take our time picking a spot beneath the shady canopy of a giant oak tree, and Gio puts down a blanket before unpacking the meal of sandwiches that look like they’re from Big Mama’s Deli—a tiny shop that usually has a line around the corner by now.
“I hope you like turkey,” he says. “But I also got an Italian sub if you would prefer.”
“No, turkey’s my favorite, actually. Big Mama’s makes the best.”
Gio nods, passing me the sandwich like it’s no big deal while I silently wonder what god sent him from above.
How can he be so perfectly right for me?
It’s like he understands everything about me without even having to ask—and not just that, he takes the initiative, showing me he cares in small but meaningful ways that make my heart pound.
“How was your morning?” he asks, digging into his own sandwich as I take a bite of mine.
“Really nice, actually,” I admit. “Once I got Jackson to school on time. It was down to the wire.”
Gio chuckles, his light hazel eyes glancing up at me. “I didn’t give you enough of a head start?” he teases.
“I… might have fallen back asleep after you left,” I admit.
“You’re not much of a morning person.”
It’s more an observation than a question, but I nod. “The day I wake up without hitting snooze ten times, you’ll know something’s wrong.”
The conversation flows effortlessly as we eat, the laughter laced in so naturally that my cheeks are starting to hurt from smiling so much by the time we pack up the basket and drop it at the car to go inside the conservatory.
The air is cool and fresh and humid, perfect for the jungle of plants on display, and after checking in with the front counter, we wander the walkway, our fingers comfortably interlaced.
Even something as simple as holding Gio’s hand makes my pulse do funny things, and as we walk and talk, a sense of giddiness drives me to distraction.
It’s all I can do not to think about kissing him, so to keep myself from doing anything impulsive, I talk, gesturing to the plant life around me as I explain where someone might find them in their natural habitat, which ones are easy to keep alive, and which ones might give gardeners a challenge.
Gio listens patiently, a gentle smile on his face, though he glances at me from the corner of his eye on several occasions.
And when we reach a more secluded bend in the pathway, he stops, using our linked fingers to turn me so I face him.
“Sorry. Am I boring you?” I ask, my cheeks warming as I crane my neck to look up into his godlike face.
He huffs with amusement. “Hardly,” he murmurs.
“I could listen to you talk about plants for days.” The low, hushed promise sounds more sensual than it ought to, and a thrill races down my spine when he cradles the back of my neck with one hand to pull me close.
“But this mouth of yours is a distraction,” he rasps.
And before I can gather my scattered thoughts to think of a response, he presses his lips to mine.
The kiss is soft and sensual, his tongue playful as it teases the pad of my lower lip.
I release his hand, reaching up to grip the collar of his shirt so I can pull him more firmly to me, deepening the kiss.
A low, possessive growl rumbles from his chest, and my stomach clenches, my thighs pressing together to stop their quivering as he snakes an arm around my waist, kissing me with fresh passion.
Our tongues tangle, and in an instant, we go from something sneaky and quick to full-on making out.
I feel like a teenager again—or at least what I imagine those early days of exploring chemistry might have been like, and as soon as we start, I can’t get enough of him.
Gio seems just as helplessly enthralled, his touch growing bolder by the minute.
And while I know I should put a stop to it—we are in a public garden, after all—I just can’t bring myself to care.
I crave his touch with each desperate breath.
So when his hand follows my curves down the length of my body, his fingers curling around the hem of my dress, all I do is cling to him harder, wrapping one arm around his neck.
His hand slips beneath the light fabric of my skirt, his fingertips brushing the sensitive flesh of my inner thigh, and I gasp.
He quickly swallows the sound, his lips refusing to leave mine for an instant.
When he reaches my panties, they feel damp as he palms my sex, and the agonized groan that rips from him tells me just how much it turns him on to find me wet.
One finger curls around the edge of the simple cotton bikini-cut fabric, and my knees turn to Jell-O as he strokes the length of my slick seam.
I’m incapable of holding up my own body weight, but it doesn’t matter.
Gio’s arm supports me effortlessly, keeping me pinned against his chest as he starts to finger me.
“What the hell is going on back here?”
The sharp librarian-esque voice makes me jump, and I freeze, my body rigid as Gio quickly retrieves his hand from beneath my dress.
Warmth floods my face as my clit continues to throb with need, and Gio shields me with his body as he turns to face the woman.
“Um, we were just…” He falters, unable to cover up the blatantly sexual stunt he just pulled. Then, without missing a beat, he turns to me. “Run,” he commands.
My heart jumps into my throat, and I obey without thinking, sprinting down the path, away from the woman as I make a beeline for the conservatory door.
“Hey!” she shouts behind me, and when I glance back, Gio’s hot on my heels, a look of devilish excitement splitting his gorgeous face.
I giggle, completely overcome by how reckless and nonsensical we’re behaving.
We’ve literally regressed back to what can only be described as those rebellious teenage years.
And I’ve never felt more alive.
Before I can catch my breath, we’re piling back into Gio’s car, and he’s practically peeling out of the parking lot to get back on the road to the store.
“That was not how I meant for this date to end,” he says, chuckling, and I laugh as I turn around in my seat to make sure no one’s followed us out to get our license plate.
“I feel like you say that a lot,” I tease.
We don’t stop laughing about it until we’re back at the flower shop, Gio pulling up to the curb in front of Blossoms and coming around to let me out of the car.
Like a gentleman walking me home, he waits as I unlock the shop door—then follows me inside.
For one heart-stopping moment, we stand there, just inches apart. I don’t want this date to be over—even if the hour’s up.
“I should let you get back to work,” Gio murmurs, voicing my thoughts.
I nod, disappointment pooling in my stomach even if he’s right.
“But I can’t quite yet,” he adds, closing the last few inches between us as he snakes his arms around me, lifting me off the ground.
I wrap my legs around him as our lips meet in an explosive kiss, and he turns, pressing my back against the glass door as he feels for the deadbolt.
My breaths shudder as he throws it home.
Then he carries me blindly toward the counter, then into the back room of the shop, our lips locked the entire time.
Tools clatter, and a moment later, my hips meet the corner of my desk, which I only ever use to balance the books.
Gio spills me back across the cool surface, sweeping papers and pencils to the floor to make room, then he leans over me as he licks and nips his way down to the neckline of my dress.
“Gio, I have to get back to work,” I pant, watching him through a haze of lust as he reaches beneath my dress to strip me of my panties.
“I’ll make it quick,” he teases.
Then, to my shock, he kneels in front of me, spreading my knees before he disappears beneath my skirt.
I gasp as hot lips press against the sensitive flesh at the peak of my thighs, and a shudder of sheer euphoria ripples through me as his tongue draws a slow, erotic path from my throbbing entrance to the pulsing pearl of my clit.
God, he’s playing dirty, and suddenly, I don’t know that I’ll be able to reopen the shop again today.
Because the last thing I want is for him to stop.