“You’re thirty years old. Being the coolest guy in the room only holds its luster for so long. It’s nice to have a family to come home to, but I’m afraid you’ll always be my indecisive Libra.” She motions to me as she walks toward the back. “Come, Lacey. You can help us carry these flowers to the front while I tell you about the kind of woman Jake needs.”
“Ma, she’s not a matchmaker.”
“No. She’s even better. She’s a romantic.” Her brows rise as she grins at me for confirmation.
I lift my shoulders as I pass him with a smile.
“For the record, I don’t need help with meeting women,” he calls as he follows us to the back, acting like a child trying to prove a point.
Bobbi points to the vases she needs moved. “Oh, I’m sure you don’t have trouble with getting laid. I’d just like someone to call a daughter-in-law.”
My mouth falls at her brazen conversation of sex. I know he’s a grown man, but my mother and I would never have such a talk. She said it all fun and casual, as conversations between adults should be.
We’re halfway through bringing the flowers up to the front when the driver arrives. Loading everything into the cooler truck is harder than I thought it would be. Jake and Bobbi are constantly making sure every petal is perfect and that the vases are secure in their transport boxes.
While we load, Bobbi tells me all about the type of woman she thinks Jake needs to date. A strong-willed woman who will put up with his antics. A career gal with a big social life of her own, who won’t eat up too much of his time because Jake is a social butterfly and the man likes his freedom. Someone from a big family is a bonus because she’ll understand how to handle the Moreau clan. And the woman most definitely needs to know how to cook.
As she rattles off her version of the perfect woman, Jake ignores her, tending to the delivery.
The truck drives away, and we head back inside. Bobbi goes to the back, and Jake and I are left in the front of the shop.
“Your mom is great,” I say with a grin.
“She’s a spitfire; that’s for sure.” His tone oozes sarcasm.
“She’s also very beautiful. You look just like her. The eyes are captivating.”
He smiles. “My eyes are quite nice.”
I hit him in the arm. “I meant, your mom’s. Man, you’re vain.”
He rubs his arm as he laughs. “No, you specifically gave away that you check me out. What other things do you notice about me?”
I start to walk away, but he grabs my arm.
“I’m only teasing.” He twirls me back to face him, and I glance at his handsome face. “Besides, I notice things about you too. Like how pretty you look in this dress.”
I bite my lip and turn away. “Thanks.”
He places his knuckle to my chin and brings my gaze back to him. “Don’t get bashful like that. You’re a gorgeous girl when you stop hiding behind those big sweats. Your hair looks nice too.”
“Are you implying I need makeup and nice clothes to be pretty?”
He doesn’t smile, nor does he flinch. “I’m saying, you should show off your beauty more often. It’s striking.”
I inhale a deep breath and take in the magnitude of his compliment. I’m often complimented on my wit and prowess but never my looks. I’ve always found pride in the fact that my mind is my best feature. But if I’m being honest, hearing these words from this man makes my stomach flutter.
“Now, forgive me if I’m wrong, but I think you came here for a reason.”
His words have me staring up at him, confused.
“And what do you think that is?”
“I don’t know, but I might have just the cure for whatever is bugging that little head of yours.” He takes his apron off and places it behind the counter. “You remember my friend I told you about who owns that art studio? There’s a class tonight, and I can get us in.”
My thoughts go blank for a moment before revving back up and processing what he said. “You want us to paint each other?”
“Yeah. It would be great research for your book, and if you like it, you can write about it.”
With a deep exhale, I take a step back. “I don’t know. That seems so intimate.”
“I don’t mind.” He sounds so casual. “It could be fun, and I promise to be a gentleman. It’s a public class, so it’s not like we’ll be naked or anything.”
I sway my head from side to side as I take in his proposal. I’ve never, ever done something like this. Hanging out with a risk-taker like Jake could be good for my writer’s soul. Plus, I’m desperate for more of the writing mojo he gave me last night.
I toss my hands up in the air and declare, “Sure, let’s do it. Experiencing it will totally help me write it more clearly. Okay, I’m in.”
Jake’s face lights up as he checks his watch. “The class is at eight, so if you hang out a bit while I lock up, we can drive there together.”
He heads to the front and locks the door before starting his closing procedure. I take my time in walking around, checking out each flower and breathing in the beauty that nature provides.
When I turn around to ask Jake about a certain flower, I catch him staring at me. He doesn’t try to hide it either. The way his eyes are intensely on mine makes me redden, and I quickly turn away, not sure how to handle the feeling it causes inside me.
Chapter Seven
The art studio is located on the second floor of a warehouse on the industrial side of town. It’s a loft with giant black-paned windows, which are covered with a sheer material to keep the sunlight in but the onlookers out. Metal beams run along the ceiling, and the floor is concrete with varying shades of gray.
“Jake Moreau!” A guy with a long beard, wearing jeans with paint smeared all over, walks up to us, and the two slap hands. “I was surprised when you said you could make it.”
“It was a spontaneous decision. That, and I had to find the right partner.” Jake lays a hand on the small of my back. “Rex, meet Lacey.”
“Pleasure to meet you,” I say, shaking his paint-coated hand. “Not much privacy though, huh?”
Rex lets out a barking laugh. “Don’t worry. This is as conservative or risqué as you’d like to make it. We request no nudity though. Keep all the bits covered up.”
I’m relieved at his words and also kind of intrigued. Having someone paint me totally naked sounds amazingly sexy.
“I bet you make a killing here around Valentine’s Day,” I say.
Rex thumbs over at Jake. “I keep telling this guy we need to work together. Flowers and painting obviously go hand in hand.”
“Nah. My father is old school. He likes to keep the shop running the way my grandparents did and their parents before them.” Jake puts the attention back on me, moving his hands to my shoulders and giving them a rub. Maybe I’m super stressed, but it feels really, really good. “Now, where this fits even better is in Lacey’s books. I’m hoping she might get some inspiration. I’m just here for the ride to help this one.”
“I’m certain this place will inspire you. Follow me. We’ll get you guys set up.”