Home > The Remake (Second Chance Flower Shop #4)(7)

The Remake (Second Chance Flower Shop #4)(7)
Author: Noelle Adams

Also, the sweater was red. Red. Belinda’s wardrobe primarily consisted of black, gray, tan, navy, and (if she was feeling particularly wild) dark green. She couldn’t remember the last time she wore red. It did make her skin look brighter and her eyes stand out. But she wasn’t used to drawing attention to herself, even with something as normal as a vivid color.

So far this evening, Ria and Jacob were here, as were Madeline with Ken and his two daughters. Ken’s youngest had tugged on the bottom of Belinda’s sweater and told her that she looked beautiful, which was about as sincere a compliment as Belinda could ever wish for.

So she was in a good mood as she walked back to the kitchen through the dining room and caught another glimpse of herself in the mirror.

She did look pretty. No doubt about that. She’d almost forgotten she was capable of it.

She was digging out some more cheddar cheese from the bottom drawer of the refrigerator, since the bowl on the table already needed refilling, when a voice from behind her said, “They said I was invited tonight, but I wanted to verify that fact with you before I start to eat.”

She jerked slightly at the familiar, drawling tone—dry, intelligent, sardonic—and straightened up as she turned to see Fitz.

He’d changed his shirt since earlier today into a button-up with blue-and-gray checks. This one was old but not stained or threadbare. He was holding his jacket instead of wearing it. It was almost like he’d made an effort.

“Of course you’re invited,” she told him, wondering why his eyes looked particularly blue tonight. “Everyone who helped is invited, and you helped.”

“Okay. Thanks. I thought you might make an exception for me.” His mouth quirked irrepressibly beneath his untrimmed beard.

She shook her head and made a face at him. “See, you might not know how it works, since you have no manners yourself, but nice, polite people don’t leave others out just because they’re obnoxious.”

He chuckled, his eyes running up and down the length of her body in a way that gave her a little hot flash. “Is that how it works?”

“Yes. That’s how it works.” She felt shy again—the way she’d felt with him earlier today. She wasn’t sure why it was happening since she wasn’t a shy person.

He was still looking at her. Strangely urgent. It made her want to hide her face behind her hair. His voice was a little rougher than normal when he said, “You didn’t go all out with the makeup tonight.”

“You mean all the stuff on my face?”

“Yes. That. I like you this way.”

He looked as if he liked her this way. For just a moment he looked like he was hungry for her. Like he might swallow her whole. And it sent a hot shiver down her spine until the feeling pulsed between her legs.

What the hell?

She shook off her response and turned back to the refrigerator, trying to remember what she’d been looking for in there. “I believe I told you before that I don’t dress to please you or anyone else. I dress to please me.”

“Maybe I’m wrong, but I think you like yourself better this way too. You’re you.”

He wasn’t wrong. He was absolutely right. She liked how she looked now better than she did with all the makeup on this morning. But it frightened her suddenly that he knew such a thing about her. That he could read her so easily.

And that maybe she wanted him to.

She couldn’t indulge such ridiculous, irrational feelings. She couldn’t.

“Cheese,” she mumbled, thrilled to remember what she’d been looking for at last.

“What?”

“Cheese.” She smiled at him blandly as she turned around. “We’re already almost out on the table.”

“Can’t have that, can we?”

His tone was slow and teasing again. Normal. It was a relief. She must be absolutely desperate for attention if she was getting all flushed and fluttery over the look in Fitz’s eyes.

Fitz. Who usually looked like a cynical fuzzy bear with his oversized jacket, glinting blue eyes, and long brown hair and beard. It wasn’t like he was sexy or anything. He did have nice broad shoulders, and he was definitely very strong. And his eyes were really pretty. But he never let anyone know what he really looked like under his clothes and hair. She couldn’t even imagine kissing him, much less doing anything else.

As she went to the dining table to replenish the cheese in the bowl, she was hit with a sudden vision of Fitz’s face—his eyes all hot and possessive—as he leaned over to kiss her passionately. Then she imagined his lean, agile hands running all over her body.

Shit. This was no good at all.

She swallowed over her physical response and tried to shake off the mental images as she returned to the kitchen. Fitz was still standing there, like he was waiting to continue their conversation, but Belinda was wise and simply ignored him.

After putting the cheese back, she tried to walk past him to return to her other guests, who’d gotten their food from the table and were gathered in the living room. But Fitz stepped in front of her.

“What?” she demanded. Her voice was sharp, but that wasn’t unusual. Hopefully he’d have no idea what she was trying not to think about right now.

“You look beautiful tonight,” he murmured thickly. “But you’ve always been beautiful. And don’t let anyone convince you otherwise.” He raised a hand to run his knuckles across her cheek.

The light touch sent shock waves of pleasure all through her body. Her breath hitched and she stared up at him, momentarily unable to move or respond.

Fitz’s hand moved to cup her face for just a moment before he suddenly dropped it and stepped back.

She gulped. “Wh-what?” Her hands were shaking. She couldn’t believe this was really happening.

That she wanted it to happen.

“You heard me,” he said in his normal voice. “Just making sure you know you don’t have to get all dolled up for some undeserving guy.”

The shift in mood hit her like a blow. She sucked in a breath and narrowed her eyes. “I was never all dolled up. And I think I’ve made it clear that I’m not waiting around with bated breath for your opinion.”

“Then who is your breath bated for?”

She wanted to smack him. She really did. Not just because of his teasing—which was getting far closer to the truth than she wanted anyone to get—but also because of the disappointment over how she’d misinterpreted the moment before.

Had she really thought he was about to kiss her?

Had she really wanted it?

Exactly how stupid could a girl be?

“Not for you,” she whispered, since she heard the murmur of voices in the living room raise in a way that made it clear the rest of her guests had arrived. “Never for you.”

She left the kitchen without another look at him.

 

 

FITZ STAYED WHERE HE was for a minute or two until he’d gotten control of himself.

He’d sworn up and down that he was going to behave himself this evening. He was going to have a brief conversation with Belinda to thank her for inviting him and make sure things were normal between them. Then he was going to eat and hang out with people he liked and not pine over a woman he could never have.

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