Page 15 of Forget me Knot
“Thank you,” he says, looking back at me with an intensity that makes my knees feel like jelly. “No card?”
I shake my head, and gulp. The vibration is coming up from the very tips of my toes, and there is nothing I can do to stop it. I slam my hand over my mouth the instant the purr escapes my lips, but it’s too late. The sound is out there, echoing awkwardly in the otherwise quiet lobby of Forshaw’s Bank. Jesus Christ. Could this get any more embarrassing?
Max raises an eyebrow, a look of, oh God, is that horror on his face?
The snotty receptionist’s head snaps up, and she stifles her laugh about as well as I did my purr.
Which isn’t very well.
Heat rushes up my face, and I can feel my cheeks turning a deep shade of red.
“Humph,” he mutters, almost as embarrassed as I am about this unprecedented situation.
Great, he thinks I’m some lovestruck omega delivering flowers to him because of his irresistible alpha charm. I need to set the record straight before my dignity crumbles into dust. “They’re not from me,” I blurt out quickly. “I’m just the messenger.”
His eyes narrow slightly. “I assumed that.”
Fuck.
Fuck.
I knew today was going to be bad, but this is taking the cake.
“Yeah,” I nod vigorously. “So…”
He glares at me as if he expects an apology for my bumbling behaviour. Well, fuck that, and fuck him. He is a total arsehole. How did two nice alphas like Jack and Sam get hooked up with this arrogant fuckface?
“Bye, then,” I snap and storm off, dread filling my soul at the thought of having to do this again next week. Maybe I’ll get Sonya to deliver them after all. Surely, my client won’t mind. Sighing when reality slaps me in the face, I know I can’t do that. I’m going to have to pull my Bridget Jones big knickers up and arrive here next week as if nothing ever happened.
“Fucking hell,” I mutter as I climb back in the car and give the clouds the finger. This day needs to end. But then I glance at the clock and gasp. “The omega!”
I have fifteen minutes to get back to the shop in time to make the twelve o’clock appointment. Firing up the engine, I slam my foot down and burn rubber, getting away from the town centre and back on the road to Keeley for a meeting I cannot and will not miss.
Chapter 9
Max
Iwatch her storm off, a whirlwind of a weird peach scent and fury. Part of me finds it amusing, and another part is intrigued. That purr. Fucking hell. It’s still ringing in my ears.
I glance at the bouquet one more time, but no card is to be found. It’s just a bunch of roses with no clue who they’re from. This is baffling. Who sends flowers without a note?
Stalking back to my office, I dump the flowers on the desk and try to focus on the Bainbridge account. But I can’t concentrate. A scent lingers on the bouquet, one that I’ve come to know and most definitely is not that unnatural peach scent.
Lily and vanilla, soothing and sweet, and belonging to one Lily Bloom, it’s unmistakable, making it hard to focus on anything else.
I know exactly who she is. She is Jack’s friend with benefits whom he moons over and thinks we don’t know. I have never met her until today, not that it was an official meeting. He either hides her away, not wanting to share her, or she is the one to put the brakes on. She has to know who I am to Jack. She has to. So why did she act like we had no one in common?
Better question… why did I?
Probably because as soon as I saw her, my soul went into panic mode, and that makes me gruff and a bit of an arsehole. I can’t help it. Jack isn’t the only one who is mooning over the omega. Her scent is killing me. It lingers on Jack’s skin, on his clothes. It’s in the packhouse and I can’t seem to get away from it, and now it is all over this bouquet. I don’t know why she has chosen to mask her scent, but I can still smell it. My nose is attuned to it.
As I shuffle in my chair, I feel a tiny twinge of regret for being such a prick. Maybe I should apologise. Or maybe not. Alpha pride and all that. But still, something about her gets under my skin.
I try to focus on the Bainbridge account again, but it’s fucking impossible, with her scent clouding my thoughts. I reach into my drawer and pull out a bottle of water, taking a long swig, trying to wash away the irritation, the confusion, and the intrigue.
Focus, Max. Lily Bloom is the least of your worries.
As if she knew I was thinking about her, my phone rings and it’s my mum.
