Page 7 of Smarty Plants
“Then we should probably go.”
Once we’re in the truck, I reach over and squeeze her hand. “I meant to ask you about your plans for my space, but to be honest, I’m fine with whatever you decide. Including plenty of plants from your store, of course.”
Her head shakes. “Trust me, that’s not my focus. But…” She hesitates.
I squeeze her hand again. “Whatever it is, angel, just spit it out. Please.”
“I just don’t know how much money you want to throw at this little makeover.”
“Whatever it takes to make the place look good. I mean, maybe we won’t start gold plating the walls…”
She grins. “If everything was painted white, I think it would look very fresh. I found a team who could come in tomorrow.”
I love the excitement in her eyes. “Great. What else?”
“My sisters are already designing and constructing the plant arrangements.”
She’s so focused, even as we stare deeply into each other’s eyes. Me, all I can think about is pulling her sexy body against me. “Amazing. And?”
Iris hesitates. “I really think your lobby needs some artwork – the conference room as well. Nature photos would be great, but I have no idea how long it would take to get them framed?—”
My phone beeps, and I look down to read a text that makes my heart sink.
“What is it?” Her eyes are wide. “Is something wrong?”
“Wayne is coming sometime around noon on Thursday.”
This is the first time I’ve seen Iris frown. I hate seeing that look in her eyes. “ThisThursday, as in, the day after tomorrow?”
“Yes.”
She stares out the front windshield for a few seconds, then grabs her phone, scrolling. “There was something on Web News Kingsville this morning about it being the last night for an exhibition at the Gilmour Gallery. An artist needs to sell all his work before he moves to Europe.”
I’m already starting the truck. “Let’s go.”
An hour and a half later, I have four massive paintings wrapped up in the back of my truck. They’re all forests, but not old-fashioned oil paintings: these are vibrant, energetic slashes of thick acrylic, a gorgeous mix of earthy and modern, and Iris and I agree they’re perfect. Helping out a local artist is an added bonus.
After I pull up in front of Palmer’s Potted Plants, I rush around to help Iris out of the truck. Her eyes dart up to the second story windows, and I chuckle. “You think your sisters are spying on you?”
She grins. “Well, when they came back from their first dates with their new boyfriends, I was definitely peeking.” Her eyes fly wide. “I’m sorry…I didn’t mean?—”
I cut her off with a kiss, wrapping my arms around her waist to lift her and walking us over to a secluded alcove that must be the entrance to the apartment. We’re not exactly shielded from the street, but at least her sisters can’t see.
Forgetting all about Wayne’s impending visit, I slip an arm around her, pulling her close for a kiss. Iris melts against me, our fingers touching everywhere we can reach, our mouths hungry and desperate.
It suddenly occurs to me that Iris is energizing more than my business and my soul. She makes my blood pump faster. Makes my muscles feel expanded. And, quite frankly, makes my cock harder than it’s been in years, just from this all-consuming kiss.
At last I gently push her away, both of us with ragged breath. “Sorry. You’re just so sexy,” I murmur, as my fingers trail through the back of her hair. “Everything about you is riveting. And at some point I’m going to thank you properly for all your help. Until then…”
I love the way my hand feels pressed against the small of her back as I tilt her soft lips up to mine. Every kiss becomes more fiery, more open. Her lips part, welcoming me deeper. Her breath catches when my other hand slides up her ribs, tracing the lower edge of her breast through her dress.
“I liked that word, by the way,” I eventually murmur against her panting mouth.
“What word?” she gasps.
“Boyfriend.” I pull back to gauge her reaction. “Because that makes you my girlfriend. Which makes you mine.”
There’s a tiny flicker of fire in her lovely eyes before she nods quickly. “I like it, too.”
