Opposites Attract (The Locklaine Boys Book 2) (4 page)

I PUSHED THROUGH THE
glass door of Flora, a flower shop just a few blocks from my apartment building, a few minutes before three. I scanned the well-kept shop, enjoying the surprisingly fresh, outdoorsy scent in the air. It wasn’t overwhelming and florally in the least. My eyes landed on a petite girl behind the counter, her short hair died a vibrant purple color and a piercing through her bottom lip. The look she was giving me was anything but friendly as she asked, “Can I help you?”

“I’m here to pick up a bouquet for Navie Collins,” I answered, wondering if I’d done something personally do offend the Goth girl at the register, or if she was just mad at life itself — if so, I could commiserate.

“You Locklaine?”

I nodded. “That’s me.”

She pointed toward the back of the shop and I noticed a door tucked away behind a trellis covered in climbing Ivy. “Delilah’s through there. Just head on in, she’s waiting for you.”

“Thanks.” Spinning around and heading in the direction she pointed, I turned the knob and pushed the door open, stopping just across the threshold at what I saw. There wasn’t an ounce of self-consciousness coming from the woman as she swiveled her hips and shook her head, the ear buds in her ears making her oblivious to the fact that she was no longer alone as she belted out the lyrics to the song playing.

I felt the tension of my bad mood lesson just a bit as I stepped fully into the room, allowing the door to close behind me and watched her move with unabashed passion as she danced while arranging a large display in the center of the table. I had to work hard not to laugh when she suddenly belted out “
Uh, uh, uh, uh! Kiss this!
”

She was actually kind of cute… in a quirky, nerdy kind of way. Her black hair was pulled up in a loose bun at the very top of her head. When I caught her in profile I could see she had thick bangs that hung down past her eyebrows and a pair of black framed glasses perched on her nose, and the way she squinted and kept pushing them up every time they fell said she wasn’t the type of person to wear glasses to appear stylish, she actually needed them to see. A pang of familiarity shot through me, but I couldn’t for the life of me figure out where I knew her from.

She wore a high-waisted skirt that flared out right above her knees and a cropped top that left just an inch of her smooth skin exposed. From what I could see she had sexy curves that any man would appreciate, and as I continued to watch her, I felt a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. Nothing about this woman was my type, she was all girl-next-door and I tended to lean more toward the vixen types, but I could still appreciate her appeal, at least for a few seconds longer.

Something in the corner of the room caught my eye and I turned my head, pulling my attention away from the woman before me. It took me a second to figure out what the hell I was looking at, but when the fluffy ball in the corner blinked its beady black eyes at me and emitted a high-pitched
woof
, I could only assume it was a dog and not an overly large, white rat like I’d first suspected.

“Shady, hush,” the woman spoke, not taking her eyes off the flowers arrangement in front or her.

The dog/rat barked again, then added the least frightening growl I’d ever heard for good measure. “Shady,” the woman scolded, “be quiet. God, you don’t listen for shit.”

“I don’t think your dog likes me,” I spoke up, making her jump and give a startled yelp. The second she spun around, I was hit with a wave of recognition again, but damn if I could figure out why she seemed so familiar.

“Holy hell,” she breathed, placing one palm on her chest as she propped the other on the table beside her to hold her up. “You scared the shit out of me,” she said, her brown eyes went wide behind her glasses.

“Sorry.” I gave her a flirtatious smirk. “I was enjoying the show. The Struts, right?” I guessed at the song blaring out of her ear buds. “Good taste in music. I approve.”

“What are you doing here?”

I quirked my brow at the odd question, suddenly confused. “You’re Delilah, right?”

“Uh…” she looked around the room, for what, I had no idea. “Yeah. How’d you find me?”

My eyes narrowed as I studied her face. “I’m sorry, do we know each other?”

“Excuse me?”

Why did she sound so pissed? I held my hands up in surrender. “It’s not a line, I swear. You just look familiar to me, but I can’t figure out where I know you from. It’s driving me crazy. We’ve met, right?” Her cheeks flushed a bright pink. With the wide eyes, thick bangs, and creamy pale skin, the blush just made her even cuter.

“You don’t know me?”

I gave her the grin that normally had women doing whatever I wanted them to and took a step closer to her. I was a shameless flirt, so sue me. “Was that a question or an answer?” I teased in a low voice.

She stepped back and nearly tripped over her own feet, which was something, considering she was in flats. Grabbing a long-stemmed flower from the table, she held on to it like it was some sort of shield. The top of the flower drooped as she fidgeted and spun the stem in her hand.

“Uh…” She cleared her throat. “It was an answer. No. You don’t know me.”

I cocked my head to the side. That couldn’t be right. I could have sworn I’d seen her before. “You sure about that?”

“Yep! Positive!” she replied overenthusiastically, twirling the poor, abused flower round and round as she pasted an overly bright smile on her face, making her look slightly psychotic. Something was off with this woman. “So what can I help you with?”

Shaking my head in an attempt to clear it, I remembered what brought me to Flora in the first place. “Oh, yeah, sorry. I’m here to pick up a sample bouquet for Navie Collins.”

The flower in her hand stopped spinning and the top of it fell over her fingers, the petals scattering to the floor. “Wait…
you’re
Locklaine?”

I grinned and held out my hand. “Richard Locklaine, but my friends call me Rich. And you’re Delilah…?” I trailed off, giving her the chance to add her last name. But she didn’t. And my hand stayed extended and empty as she stared at me, aghast, like I’d just informed her I planned on voting for Trump or something.

She seemed frozen for several seconds before she finally blinked and stalked away, walking over to a glass faced refrigerator on the back wall and jerking it open. “Here you go!” she all but shouted as she yanked something from inside and stomped back to me. “Here’s the bouquet.” She tossed it underhanded and I had to scramble to catch it. “Enjoy the flowers. Hope Ms. Collins likes them. Have a nice day!” Once she finished her rapid-fire sentences, she sucked in a deep breath, spun on her heels, and disappeared through another door that led to somewhere else in the shop. I stood there for several seconds, the cold flowers in my hand, and I tried to figure out what the hell just happened.

It wasn’t until I heard an odd sound that I managed to shake off my stupor. “Son of a bitch!” I shouted. When I looked down, the beady-eyed rat/dog bastard had just finished unloading its freakishly large bladder all over my shoes.

“HE’S
ENGAGED
!” I SHOUTED
through the phone as I paced the alleyway behind the shop.

“What? Who’s engaged? What are you talking about?” Devon asked. The moment I got out of the room with that cheating asshole, I’d called my best friend, needing to vent and yell out my rage since I’d never been one for fighting. I just wasn’t built for a fist fight. My delicate bones would snap like twigs. That was why I always let my older brother fight my battles all through school. I might not have been a fighter, but Jace sure as hell was, and I was all too happy to stand back and let him pummel any ex-boyfriends who broke my heart. Those assholes got what was coming to them, and I never had to lift a finger.

“The hot guy from the club!” I shrieked. “The one I had sex with! He’s engaged!”

“
What?
”

“Yes!”

“Okay, just… hold on. Back up a second. Are you
sure
he’s engaged?”

I nodded my head before realizing she couldn’t see me through the phone. “Seeing as he came in to pick up a sample bouquet for his
fiancée
, I’d say yes. I’m pretty freaking positive!”

“Holy shit! What a prick!” she screeched through the line, then, “Make your own damn copies, Jimmy! Can’t you see I’m on the phone?”

I rolled my eyes. “You know, how you’re still employed is beyond me.”

Devon worked as an admin for one of the ambulance chasing attorneys you saw on billboards and the sides of busses. He was slimy and unethical, and those were on his good days, but he paid Devon well and seemed to let her walk all over him. A win-win as far as we were concerned.

“Oh please,” she scoffed. “He’d be lost without me.” Then, “Oh, for the love of Buddha, I don’t know where the discovery file is! You were the last one to have it. Look in that mess you call an office…” There was a short pause, followed by, “That seems like a you problem, not a me problem. Sorry, Jimmy, I could give a shit, but I’ve already met my quota for the day.”

“How have you not been fired by now?” I asked in all seriousness.

Devon groaned. “Ugh. I have to let you go before that vein in Jimmy’s forehead ruptures, but we’ll finish this discussion tonight at home.”

I let out a slow exhalation, the adrenaline that had been pumping through my body since I first laid eyes on the hot guy from the club…
Richard
, had finally started to wane. “Okay.”

“I’ll stop by the store on my way home. Pick up some ice cream. I’m thinking tonight is a BJ dance party kind of night.”

“No.” I stated firmly. “It’s not a BJ dance party kind of night. It’s a wine and pity party kind of night. And you know what?” I mused. “I really think we need to rename the Ben & Jerry’s dance party. Seriously, it sounds like something you’d see in a sex club when you shorten it like that.”

Devon laughed. “That’s what makes it so fun to say. The name stays. The tribe has spoken. I’ll see you tonight, sweets.”

“Kay, bye.”

I hung up the phone and dropped my head as emotions I wasn’t all that familiar with warred inside of me. Jealousy that the guy who’d rocked my world was getting married… to another woman… who wasn’t me, while I suffered from a chronic case of asshole-itis, picking shitty men at every turn. Guilt that I’d unknowingly slept with an engaged man, betraying a woman I’d only met one time but still managed to really like. Navie was sweet and funny, she didn’t deserve to be cheated on by some douchebag who didn’t deserve her. Embarrassment that the guy I hadn’t been able to get out of my head for the past three months didn’t even recognize me after having run his tongue across every inch of my naked body for hours. And finally, utter disappointment that the man I’d built up in my head since our one and only night together turned out to be
such a prick
!

I was
so
through with men.