Page 65 of Super Cocky

Iwasglad to be able to give Joanne the day off, though. The two of us had been happily working long days and nights together for weeks, but I shuddered to think of how many hours Joanne had actually put in, running the place with just Naomi before I’d gotten there.

She deserved some time to herself, and she’d more than earned it. The woman needed more days off.Regularly.

And now, even though I had started missing Joanne the moment we’d said goodbye and her car had disappeared down the street, I couldn’t quite bring myself to feel sad. After all, wehadjust spent two whole days together.

Mostly in each other’s arms.

Mostly naked.

That alone was worth an entire lifetime of Mondays.

But I also couldn’t be upset because I couldn’t stop smiling.Glowing, I’d thought earlier, looking in the mirror. It was just the effect Joanne had on me.

She made me happy, plain and simple. Even when we were apart, the thought of seeing her again was more than enough to keep me happy and to make the long workday worthwhile.

I reached for my phone and sent off a quick text.

Had a great weekend. Miss you already!

The response was nearly instantaneous, and it only made my grin get wider.

Miss you, too! Call me on your lunch break if you want.

I very muchdidwant that, and I absolutely would.

However before I could type out a response, I heard the bell above the front door jingle, and poked my head out of the office just in time to see a man in a suit and dark sunglasses walk in.

My brow furrowed. The guy looked more like a member of the Secret Service than one of the flower shop’s regular customers. But whatever. If he was there with money to spend, it didn’t really matter what the guy’s day job was.

“Good morning,” I said, stepping out of the office and trying to sound as genuinely happy and chipper as Joanne did when she greeted customers. It was normally a challenge for me to be that outgoing, but lately? I couldn’t hold back the happiness, even if I’d wanted to. “Can I help you with anything?”

“I hope so.” The man’s eyes locked in on me and he took quick, purposeful strides to close the distance between us. “I’m looking for Brady Davis.”

My brow furrowed momentarily. There was no way this guy was here to buy flowers.

I doubted many of the customers of Patty’s Petals would even remember my first name, let alone my last… but this guy? He was on a mission.

My mind immediately went to the Hawks. Had I forgotten to sign something important in my paperwork? Did they need me back for something?

My thoughts raced through the possibilities, but I pushed all of that aside. There was a better way to figure out what the guy wanted.

“You’ve found me,” I said, extending my hand to shake. “I’m Brady Davis. What can I do for you, Mr.…?”

“Samson,” the man answered, gripping my hand in a firm, businesslike way. “Michael Samson. Please call me Mike. And may I call you Brady?”

The man—Mike—radiated a confidence and practiced warmth that was likely intended to put me at ease, but the overly polished feel of his attitude only raised more questions. And whatever he was doing there, his quick, southern accent was a sure sign that he wasn’t from anywhere near Castle Falls.

“Of course, Mike. Nice to meet you.” My smile didn’t falter, but I could feel my own eyes narrow slightly as I tried to figure this guy out. “What can I do for you today?”

Instead of answering the question directly, though, Mike asked another one of his own. “How’s business been lately? Ramping up for the Anderson-Beachman’s Wedding Day, I’d imagine?”

I nodded, but bit back the first three responses that came immediately to mind—each a version ofyeah, what’s it to you? Maybe there was no ulterior motive. Maybe the guy was just trying to make conversation and not intentionally being nosy about my business.

Maybe small talk wasn’t really his strong suit.

And maybe pigs would fly.

“Busy enough. I haven’t been in the business long enough to really know what to expect, though, to be honest.” Small talk wasn’t really my strong suit, either, and I was doing my best not to be annoyed at the man’s questions. Still, it would probably be best if I took control of our seemingly random conversation. “So… what can I do for you?”

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