Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 65913 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65913 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
But I’m woefully unsuccessful. I’ve got underthings on my mind. “So, undies don’t cut it? Do we say lacy numbers? Sexy panties? And while we’re at it, what about bra? It sounds so practical, but then, those half-bra thingamajigs hardly seem practical.”
She giggles. “Do you mean a demi-cup bra?”
I snap my fingers with my free hand. “Yes, that’s it. I forgot what it was called.”
“Demi cups are sexy. But, no, not at all practical,” she says.
“Shame, that,” I say, my mind drifting off as Trudy trots in front of us.
“And when you’re peddling flowers and passion and romance, then underthings should be lacy lingerie, and so on,” Veronica says, then slings her purse higher on her shoulder. The move dislodges the strap of her dress. It falls down her arm, nestling in the crook of her elbow.
That strap. That lucky piece of strap. I look away. If I find out she’s wearing a demi cup, I will melt into a puddle of once upon a man.
I point to my favorite girl, prancing along. “You know, you can bring StudMuffin to work if you want. I have a shop dog. We could probably manage two shop dogs.”
She sets a hand on her heart. “Aw, I wish. You’ve met him. They love him at doggy daycare, but he’s kind of a dick with strangers and bikes. And your girl is such a sweetheart.”
I laugh. “Trudy’s a good one.”
“How did you wind up with that name? Trudy’s unusual and I’ve been curious since that day I met you on the street.”
I smile, picturing my dog’s namesake. “My grandma—Mom’s mom—was close with my brother and me. Helped raise us. Her name was Gertrude, and she loved dogs. She asked me to name a dog after her one day. So I did.”
Veronica sighs happily. “That’s really lovely, Milo.”
My heart squeezes at the thought of my grandma. “She had a good, long life. A healthy one. I hope Trudy will have the same. Now, it’s your turn. Where does StudMuffin come from?”
Veronica dips her face as we reach the street corner. I nudge her side with my elbow. “C’mon, ’fess up.”
“You’ve seen him. He’s a sexy beast,” she says, with a little smoke and fire in her voice. “And so is my cat.”
“Is his name Casanova?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “Nope. Hot Stuff.”
“So, pretty much the same,” I say.
“Yup. I guess I just like romance, and well...”
I fill in the and well.
Sex.
She likes sex and romance and talking about it and helping others find more of it in their lives.
From the names of her pets to the names of her lipstick, from the devils on her butt to her knowledge of lingerie, Veronica Valentine is a woman who’s in touch with her sexy side.
So much for my attempts to clear my mind. Guess I won’t be joining a monastery after all.
13
Mister Sexy Pants
Milo
* * *
Summer is a busy season for bikes, so the store is buzzing most days with customers. The whole crew pitches in, with Zara and James on the bike side, and another part-timer named Ian, a local community college student, as our swing. He helps out where needed, with Ian handling both pedals for bikes and petals for flowers.
One week turns into the next, turns into the next. On a sunny midweek morning, I wear trim, plaid pants to work, and Zara cracks up. “Are you trying to bring retro duds back into fashion?”
“Trying to? I believe I already did,” I say.
Zara rolls her eyes, cracking up. “Veronica,” Zara says, shouting across the store. “Have you heard? Our boss is a trendsetter with his fashion-plate pants.”
The employer in me likes that Zara’s included Veronica in the camaraderie, but the man really wants to hear what the florist has to say about my clothes.
Veronica glances up from the tulips she’s setting in the display case. “Pants are the worst,” she says, a little impishly.
Huh.
That’s not quite an answer. But I lose interest in pants as my gaze lingers on her skirt.
She does wear skirts all the time.
Every single day.
God bless her.
The day she flashed me her panties, she had on a red, polka-dotted one.
“Maybe tomorrow should be National Skirt Day. Maybe even Red Polka Dot Skirt Day,” I add with a wink, just for her.
Veronica’s eyes flicker with surprise, then with a heat that I feel all the way across the store.
The National Day themes lure more customers and bring new online reviews. But each time one pops up, I tense, dreading that it could be one of Callie’s awful exes trying to trash me again. I did everything I could to bury those nasty comments, but now and then, they resurface.
But so far, so good.
They’re short and sweet, like, Bikes and Blooms will find the flower pairings you never knew you needed, and, Go for the flowers, stay for the recommendations!