Page 49 of Clash
As much as I would’ve loved to commit to something like that, my current situation made it almost impossible. The only way Karen could pay me without my ex finding out was to pay me under the table. And even then, she could only afford to do so much a week, because if she did too much, she might bring attention to the IRS or something. Working in the flower shop made it pretty easy to stay hidden. Not only did I have free daycare for Alex, but I also worked in the back for most of the day, leaving it impossible for anyone to really recognize me. Not that I expected anyone to. The only person that could, was Clash,and that motherfucker was the last person on earth besides Eric I wanted to see.
Shattered and broken, my heart clenched every time I thought about that day with the cop and all the money he stole from me. But I had no one to blame but the stupid moron in the leather vest, the one hellbent on pissing off cops and got off pretending to be some stand-up guy. He wasn’t. He was trouble with a capital FT... fucking toxic. I should know, it was like I attracted toxic men with my pheromones or something.
“Hey, Gina. Are you about done with that bouquet?” Karen called out from the front of the store.
I finished the floral arrangement with a rather large red rose, admiring the precious flowers, and wishing that someday, someone would love me enough to buy such an expensive gift.
Eric never bought me flowers. He said gifts were for pretty women, not washed-up hags like me.
Ugh, I really fucking hated that man. The moment I get to Vegas, I’m filing for a divorce and getting a court order for him to stay away from Alex for good.
Carrying my botanic masterpiece out front, I’m nothing but smiles, until I see the back of the man buying the bouquet. A familiar leather vest stared back at me. The large skull with headphones sitting between two bikes seemed to taunt me and make my insides race with fear. Thankfully, the man responsible for the bouquet was not Chuck, but judging by the jacket vest thingy, they had to know each other.
“Here are your flowers.”
Thick fingers delved deep into his dirty blonde follicles as his lips turned, not in a flirtatious way, but one of gratitude and contentment. “Thank you, these roses are perfect.”
Pride overwhelmed me as he took the bouquet, admiring the hard work I put into it. Arranging flowers may seem like an easy job, but it actually took talent, a knack for organization, and akeen eye. It was like I could see the arrangement in my head before a single flower was ever dropped in the vase.
“It’s for my soon to be wife,” he admitted. “We just found out she’s pregnant.” I’d never seen a man so happy before. It was like nothing else mattered in the world but his fiancée and future kid. I wondered what that meant for his other biker buddies. I’m not sure what the terminology actually is for it, but I honestly don’t care either. If I never see another biker again, that would suit me just fine.
The bell above the door rang, alerting us to another customer.
“Come on, asshole, get a move on. We got shit we gotta do.”
Every part of my body froze the second I heard that familiar gruff timbre, and orbs of amber mixed with a greenish blue flashed with angry recognition. He didn’t smile. He didn’t even acknowledge that he knew me. He just stood there in the doorway, paralyzed and completely gobsmacked.
“Gina, are you okay?” Karen questioned, wondering why I was still standing by the register when I normally go back immediately.
I waited for him to respond, to say something acknowledging that mind-blowing kiss he laid on me during our brief encounter. But the man just stood there staring, his mouth twitching in silence.
The man with the roses looked from me to Clash, then back again. “Do you two know each other?”
My mouth opened to answer, but words were stolen from me the second Clash opened his mouth to speak—or should I say lie through his teeth.
Shaking his head, Clash took a step back toward the door. “Nah, man. I don’t fucking know her. Just hurry the fuck up and get a move on. We got club business to take care of.”
I’m not sure why his blatant rejection stung so bad. Hell, it felt like the bastard took my heart and threw it in the middle of an elephant stampede. I shouldn’t have fucking cared so much, but besides Karen and Bessie, Clash was the only person in Austin that knew about my ex. I confided in him… I fucking kissed him! And he just fucking acted like I repulsed every part of him.
Frowning, and on the verge of producing tears, I tore off into the backroom, putting as much distance between me and the front door as I could.
A few minutes later, Karen found me wiping tears from my eyes in the store’s bathroom. “Wanna tell me what that was all about?”
“It was nothing,” I lied, still confused as to why I felt so rejected. Or why I even cared.
“You knew that man, didn’t you?”
Shrugging, I played it cool, too distraught to say anything incriminating.
“He was handsome.”
More silence.
“I bet he’s a beast in the bedroom.”
My head snapped up, shocked by the old woman’s words. “Karen!”
“What? I may be sixty-seven, but I can still admire the man candy when it comes in. His friend was even better looking, but it seems he was taken.”
