“We’ll see,” I said. “I’m not trying to be contrary and I’m not saying it because I’m trying to convince you that you’re wrong. All I mean is that we will eventually see if there isn’t maybe a man out there who can convince you that you are, in fact, wrong.”
She flipped me off, then picked up her menu. “Sorry to crush your hopes, my little romantic, but there isn’t a man alive who would be able to do that. We’d better order or we’re both going to be late getting back.”
It turned out that we were a few minutes late getting back anyway. When I got to the shop, I heard the beep-beep-beep of a delivery truck from the bay around back and rushed over to check if it was one for me.
It was.
The driver hopped out with a clipboard in his hands once he’d parked. His eyes darted from side to side until they met mine. The smile he gave me as his gaze raked down the length of my body was nothing short of lecherous.
For a moment, I thought back to what April had said about meeting the hottest guy in the world when we got back to work. It seemed I was out of luck because with bald patches on his head, a beer gut that seemed to have grown from an entire case of the stuff, and red, blotchy skin with sweat running in rivulets down his cheeks, the driver was definitely not hot.
Nor was he the man of my dreams if the lascivious way he looked at me was any indication of his personality. Well good, because I’m not looking for my dream guy right now anyway.
“You Luna from the Watering Can?” he asked after lifting the clipboard to check my name. “I’ve got a delivery from the Fresh Market I need you to sign for.”
“I’m her,” I confirmed, taking the clipboard from his sweaty hands and trying to hold back a shudder. I ignored his watery blue eyes on me and dropped my own to check the delivery note instead. “Do you have another note for me to sign? This one doesn’t have everything on it that I ordered.”
He shrugged and produced a toothpick from his pocket, shoving it between his lips. “If it’s not on there, it’s not in my truck. I loaded this up myself.”
I scanned the clipboard again and frowned. “But this isn’t even half of what I ordered.”
“What do you want me to do about it? I loaded up everything on that form. If it’s not on there, the system must have made a mistake, or you didn’t order what you think you did. I’ll check when I get back to the office, but you’ll have to wait the normal amount of time between deliveries. My schedule is full.”
“I need those other flowers.” I batted my eyelashes at him, not above a little low-level flirting if it would help, but I quickly saw the man wasn’t going to budge. He was in defense mode with his arms crossed and his widened stance.
It was a strong hint that a mistake had, in fact, been made. “I have orders to fill, and if I don’t have them, I can’t do that. There has to be something you can do. I know I placed the order correctly. Could you please call in and check your system?”
Arguing with him wouldn’t make the flowers miraculously appear, nor would throwing blame around. I was hoping that if he called in and confirmed some kind of mistake or miscommunication, he would be able to fit another delivery in for me sooner than the week it had taken for this one to arrive.
“Even if there has been a problem with our system, I still can’t clear my schedule for you.” He lifted one shoulder in that what-you-gonna-do way. “I don’t have any other deliveries around here this week and my truck’s filled up with what I got anyway. No space for more.”
I scrubbed my hands over my face, a scream of frustration bubbling up in my throat. Swallowing hard, I pushed it back. He was only the delivery guy. Maybe I could reason with someone at his office instead. “It’s fine. I’ll—”
“It’s not fine,” a commanding voice said from behind me. The fine hairs at the back of my neck lifted at the sound of it, like a rasp of gravel wrapped in the smoothest silk. “If an order has been placed and paid for, the responsibility is on you to ensure delivery.”
I spun around to face my mysterious defender with the words to tell him to butt out already on my tongue. Despite how sexy his voice was and how much I appreciated his willingness to jump to the aid of a total stranger, I didn’t need his help. I fought my own battles.
Whatever I was about to say flew right out of my mind when my eyes landed on him. Because holy wow.
Once again, my brain flickered back to that meeting the hottest guy in the world this afternoon conversation, and strangely, that might be exactly what had just happened.
But it didn’t take more than one look at him to conclude that this man was no Prince Charming. He definitely didn’t look like the type who was going to give anyone a leg-up onto the back of his white horse and ride off into the sunset.
He was more of a pretty to look at, lovely to hold, but he will break you so don’t consider yourself sold kind of guy. Easily a foot taller than I was, I had to tip my head back slightly to take in the whole package, even when he stood a short distance away from me.
Sandy, light brown hair shone in the mottled sunlight filtering in through patches of clouds. He might not have been standing that close to me, but the green of his eyes was so bright and brilliant that the color was obvious even across the space separating us.
A white button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows stretched ever so slightly over his chest and biceps, the fabric just a touch tighter there than in other places. Not so tight as to make it look uncomfortable, but more like the shirt fit so well it had to have been made for him but it couldn’t quite hide the toned physique it covered.
Broad in the shoulders and narrower at the hips, he had that swimmer’s build I had always found attractive. But that was the pretty part.
The part that made me convinced he wasn’t the type to sweep women off their feet and romance the heck out of them was all in the attitude. His eyes might have been bright and brilliant, but the green orbs were also ice cold.
His angular features were set in an expression so sharp it could cut diamonds and he radiated a certain dominance, the very air itself crackling with the almost aggressive vibe he was throwing off.
Feet spread apart with his hands in the pockets of the black slacks he wore, he had this haughty mask of entitlement as he jutted his chin up and glared at the delivery man. “So, what are we going to do about this?”
The gravel and the silk were still there in his voice, but there was also an edge to his tone that made me curious to see what was about to happen if I didn’t intervene after all. I really did need those flowers and this guy might be my best chance at getting them.
Besides, he was really lovely to look at. I’d never get to hold him, and I couldn’t have him, but looking couldn’t hurt. So I let my protests go and simply watched him, reminding myself all along that I wasn’t in the market for that dream guy right now.
Even if I had been, this particular guy was too cruel and confident to be him.
Chapter 6
Cyrus
The delivery guy was clearly very bad at reading people. He took a step toward me and narrowed his eyes, his head dipping to the side. “Who are you and why are you in this conversation?”