Page 7 of Meeting Mr. Adorkable
Just about to confirm he was definitely not a floral artist, his words didn’t even reach his lips when Lucian exclaimed and dropped to his haunches.
“Hello, Peanut. And how are you today?”
A little flame ignited in Arlo’s chest. Lucian had remembered his mutt’s name… A lump formed in his throat.
“Don’t be surprised if he wriggles away and…” Arlo gawped as Lucian took one of Peanut’s front paws in a handshake. Or a pawshake.
“Formal introductions are so important, don’t you think, Peanut? I hope you don’t mind my presumption, but you really are a handsome chap.” Peanut wagged his stumpy tail in response and Lucian laughed, throwing back his head and staring up at Arlo, a big grin on his face.
Arlo swallowed. In the middle of the square, with the townspeople milling around, Lucian was all but on his knees in front of him. Arlo’s crotch, too close to Lucian’s face for comfort, tightened. Ah, shit… But if Lucian noticed, he didn’t give a sign, as his smile widened.
“I’ve got a pet back home called Cashew. Honestly, I didn’t realize nut based names were such a thing. But Cashew’s nothing like this fine pooch. In fact, he’s a rather vicious bunny who takes inordinate pleasure in peeing on me, and seems to think my fingers are juicy carrots to be munched on. My mother calls him psychotic, my brother has threatened to have him stuffed and mounted on the wall, and as for what my sister has said should happen to him, well, it would make a sailor blush. But I tell them, poor Cashew had an unhappy start in life and all he needs is love and understanding, as we all do. Doesn’t stop him being an evil little bastard, though.”
Lucian jumped to his feet. “Have you come to buy some flowers? We’ve got some gorgeous tiger lilies and blazing stars in, guaranteed to brighten even the dullest of homes. Not that I’m suggesting your home is dull, of course.” Lucian bit down on his lower lip.
“Of course you’re not. Like you didn’t think I was a thief.”
Lucian’s face throbbed with a shade of red that was more than equal to the flowers in the window display.
“Ah, yes. That was, erm…” Lucian scuffed the toe of his Converse against the sidewalk, and ran his fingers through his heavy dark hair.
Arlo tamped down on the smile tugging at his lips. It was a little mean to fluster the Englishman. Mean, but fun.
“Touché. I rather asked for that.”
“Yet, my home is a little dull.” Where had that come from? Arlo cleared his throat. His house was bright, airy, and stylish. It was also quiet, too quiet at times. But wasn’t that just what he’d wanted when he’d returned to the Creek?
“Then come in, and let me add some color and warmth.” Lucian smiled at him over his shoulder, and Arlo was powerless to say no.
The heady perfume of flowers hit him as he followed Lucian into the store, the closed door blocking off the fresh breeze from outside.
“So, what’s your color scheme? Would you prefer to compliment it, or go for a bold contrast? I always think contrasts work the best.” Lucian gazed at him expectantly.
“It’s neutral. Lots of white walls.” Boring and cold. The words had been spat at him, months before, but it hadn’t been his decor choices that had been under attack.
“Excellent. So you’re a blank canvas, just waiting to be painted in warm tones.”
“Something like that,” Arlo said, a touch of sour flavoring his words.
“If you’re happy to give me free rein, I can make up a couple of bunches that’ll make the world of difference to all those white walls of yours?”
Eagerness shone from Lucian’s face, and Arlo nodded. He nodded because his throat and the back of his nose were already itching. It wouldn’t be long before his eyes watered. And the sneezing would come, loud and explosive enough to crack the glass vases lined up on the shelf behind the wide counter.
Lucian was talking, but Arlo had no idea what he was saying as he concentrated on breathing. The itch in his nose and throat leeched out onto his skin. He wanted to scratch his jaw, but once he started, he wouldn’t be able to stop. Lucian was still talking, but if he was expecting any answers, he showed no sign, as he wrapped brown paper around the bunches.
“The colors are so vibrant, and the perfume’s amazing. I’ve also included moonflower, because the scent is so rich and sweet. It reminds me of Turkish Delight. What do you think?”
Lucian held the bunch out, but Arlo backed away as if Lucian had thrust a blowtorch in his face.
“Wonderful.” Was that thin, reedy whine really him?
“Are you okay?” Lucian’s brow pulled into a tiny frown.
“Yes,” wheezed Arlo. Why the hell couldn’t he just tell the guy he was allergic to cut flowers?
Lucian nodded, but he didn’t look convinced. He didn’t look like anything other than a smeared shape, as Arlo squinted at him out of watery eyes burning to be scratched.
Lucian rang up the bill, and Arlo all but threw his card at him, the need to get out in the fresh air an imperative.
