Page 2 of Ironside
Too late. She definitely noticed.
The tips of her ears turned beet red.
And I couldn’t stop the smirk that spread across my lips. It seemed the attraction that had sparked here was mutual. If I had to guess, I estimated Lena was probably in her thirties. Which would put her about twenty years younger than me, give or take. It seemed the age gap didn’t deter either of us.
Two months ago, my club teased me about my bachelorhood, taking bets that I would be the next one among them to get married, or remain single to my grave. They were split almost evenly down the middle—half of them believed I would marry, the other half had their doubts.
What they didn’t know was that I almost got married once. Back in my twenties—what felt like a lifetime ago. When it fell through, it gutted me. And I never gave marriage another thought again.
But friendly flirtation and sex were always on the table. And Lena was certainly someone that I could enjoy having dinner with.
I’d like to see how many orgasms I could wring out of her, too.
Lena cleared her throat and squared her shoulders, fixing a customer service smile in place.
“What do you think about these?”
I didn’t look at the flowers she indicated. My gaze was locked on her face. A beat of silence settled over us and Lena bit herlower lip, shifting in place. That delicious blush crept across her cheeks again.
There was something about a woman’s blush that unleashed a primal side of me. A blush like that was an appetizer. It could lead to more things—a kiss, a moan, a desperate whimper.Please please please, just let me come.Curiosity tugged at the back of my mind, making me wonder how far that pretty pink color would spread.
I took a step closer.
Lena retreated, bumping against the counter.
Thank God the shop was empty and we were alone in here. Sliding the bouquet out of her arms, I set it aside. She didn’t even make a single peep of protest. Then I took her hand, sheltering it in my palms.
“What flowers would you recommend if I wanted to ask a lady out to dinner?” I said.
Lena blew out a breath, pressing herself back against the counter. My grip on her hand was light and easy to escape. But she made no effort to pull away.
“Well, it…um…I mean, it really depends on the woman,” Lena stammered. “What…what does she like?”
Without breaking eye contact, I lifted her hand, turning her wrist up. I pressed a kiss there, feeling the fluttering of her pulse against my lips. Her breath caught in her throat, and her free hand gripped the edge of the counter for dear life.
“Judging by the scent of her perfume,” I said. “My guess is that she likes roses. But you’re the expert here. Correct me if I’m wrong.”
“Oh,” Lena exhaled in disbelief. “You…you meanme. You’re talking about me.”
I laughed softly at how flustered she was.
“What color?” I prompted.
She blinked at me, fighting to get some air into her lungs.
“Wh-what?”
“When it comes to roses, what color is your favorite?”
“Oh, I…” Lena shook her head. “I couldn’t possibly choose. They come in so many beautiful shades and they’re all gorgeous.”
“If I gave you a dozen roses in a dozen different colors, would you have dinner with me?” I asked.
Her lips parted with surprise. She floundered for a moment, then released her grip on the counter and pressed a hand to her chest.
“I’m…I’mincrediblyflattered, but you’re a customer and I have to be professional—”
“Come on,” I coaxed. “There’s no one around. You can break the rules. I won’t tell.”
