Chapter 1

SHAYLA

As I stepped outside of All In Bloom where I worked as a floral designer, I collided into a man who hadn't been there point two seconds ago when I flipped open the deadbolt and pushed open the glass door to begin the day.

"What the—," the rest of my sentence was muffled as my face smashed into a chest which can only be described as a hunk of cement encased in soft cotton and scented with a musk I wasn't entirely sure was from a bottle or the real thing.

Pheromones.

The kind you read about but don't really believe in. The ones that cause a woman's insides to melt, turning into fluttery pulses in her nether regions, which instantly lowers all her, okay mine, inhibitions as she, me, continues to inhale them, him, in a oh so unladylike manner.

Yeah, those pheromones.

But that declaration wasn't even the most embarrassing part. What's worse than snuffling a complete stranger? How about wobbling like a baby deer and turning instantly into the klutz that I am before almost pulling us both off balance onto our asses?

I clenched onto his forearms, that even I, in my hyper aware and panicked state, could tell were densely roped in muscle. I prayed that I hadn't somehow managed to dig my short nails deep enough to have drawn blood.

But every fear I had of ending up on my ass was soon forgotten when he then let out the sexiest sound as his head dipped close to the side of my face and tickled my ear with a breathy "Oof," from our impact. That sound threw my jumbled-up hormones into a tailspin. It was then followed by an equally deadly and raspy chuckle. And in that split second, it was as if my fate was sealed.

My body recognized his body, and it wanted closer and possibly forever.

But that was insane.

Get a grip Shay.

The entire moment felt like forever, but in reality, was probably not more than four seconds. Before I could come up with an intelligent response, let alone an apology for not looking up as I stepped through the shop's threshold, I read the words that shattered my short-lived excitement.

Emblazoned across the man's breath-stealing chest was the logo of his business. And as my gaze traveled higher, I locked onto a pair of eyes the darkest brown I'd only ever seen once in my life. On my best friend and business partner, Brenley.

Dammit. She told me he was showing up today to discuss the remodel.

I'd just managed to fall into the arms of her brother, the one man I had no business falling for or silently lusting after.

As he stared back at me, I was struck dumb by his deep laugh lines, silver-dusted hairline and the sexiest grin ever to be aimed at me. What was is it about a man with silver threads sprinkled in his hair that had me on the verge of giggling like a schoolgirl?

Again, get it together, Shay. I hadn't been a schoolgirl for more years than I cared to admit. And wouldn't you know the first man to stir my…er…petals was the one man who needed to be off limits.

Brenley hadn't actually warned me off him, but her tales of his dedicated bachelorhood and numerous girlfriends that never seemed to last more than a month or two had.

There was no way I was going to let Colton Lynch know just how much he affected me because one disastrous relationship with a known heartbreaker was enough to last me a lifetime.

"Shayla, I forgot to tell you that my brother is stopping by this morning, and oh, well, guess you've figured that out." Brenley's words filtered through my brain. I dropped my hands and ran them down my jeans, took in a steadying breath and turned to greet my business partner, thinking her timing really sucked.

If she'd been here just five minutes ago, this entire mortifying situation could have been avoided. But no, she and her hubby, Hayden, had probably been arguing about who was going to miss the other more or something equally cutesy and unobtainable for the majority of Pineville's almost forty and perpetually single population.

I mean, I loved them both, but their constant PDAs and declarations of love for one another tended to make me feel like a pre-pubescent teen having to suffer from the embarrassment of parents deeply in love.

Yeah, sometimes I sucked as a friend but instead of focusing on the reason Brenley hadn't saved me from ending up in her brother's muscular arms, I needed to cool down the furnace blasting my insides because more likely my cheeks had bloomed apple red alerting everyone to how I really felt.

"Yup. Here he is." I waved a hand in Colton's general direction without actually looking at him. Was he staring at me? Feeling just as awkward or turned on as I was? Most likely, he was trying to widen the distance between us. Lord, I hope I hadn't drooled on his chest when my face had been plastered against it. Even worse, had he heard me sniff him?

Dammit, if my face wasn't red before, it had to be now from just the memory of being smooshed up against all that hard steel and unconsciously huffing his manly scent. I didn't dare touch my face to verify the heat I felt, and I didn't dare look at Brenley, either. She could read my expressions better than most. And as much as I tried to maintain a poker face when I was feeling my feelings, my face could be read like a spicy bestseller: fast and ready for book two.

Blowing a strand of hair that had escaped my ponytail, the breeze seemed to lower my temperature, so I did it a couple more times as I managed to walk back into the shop without making eye contact with either one.

"Hey sis. Sorry for running over Shayla. I guess I was, uh, thinking about the condition of the sidewalk and how I could re-do it for you before we start work on pouring the cement at the new place next week."

Brenley had followed me inside, then stood across from me as I turned on the register and tidied the already tidy display of blank cards on the counter. I could feel her gaze on me and I caved. When I looked into her face, she wore this odd expression, her brow furrowed and her lips pursed. Which could be interpreted as anything from she'd noticed how I'd reacted to Colton to the baby was kicking her again like a champion soccer player.

"I'll leave you two to discuss permits and designs. I've already checked the online orders and today's going to be busy, so I'll just get—" Unfortunately, I didn't get very far from the counter or Colton's unnervingly observant stare.

"About that, I'd really like you to work with Colton on the floor design for the new shop. I trust your eye more than mine right now. I've been so sleep deprived because of this darn acid reflux, I might revert back to arguing with Colton like we did as teenagers. It'd really help me out if I could come in a couple hours later in the mornings."

Darn it. She just had to pull the baby card on me. I knew what it was like with one baby interrupting your sleep and still having to work, but now she had a toddler and another on the way and refusing her request would simply be mean. Working with her brother wouldn't take more than a few hours, tops, right?

We'd outgrown the current space and were working on a new shop in a more central location. Our plan was to have it completed by Thanksgiving. He'd be onto his next project soon enough and there was a good possibility I'd never see him again.

I just needed to tamp down my body's crazy reaction to him and all his muscles and sexy grin for a handful of meetings, right? Maybe.

I'm not sure what made me look at Colton before I answered her, but I swear I saw a flash of excitement in those near black eyes.

No, that couldn't be right. Must've been the fluorescent lighting. I didn't know him well enough to read his expressions. It was probably polite acceptance or even sympathy for his perpetually exhausted sister, who'd insisted on working right up until the baby was born.

I tore my gaze from his before I forgot my resolve to appear unruffled and disinterested in him as anything but a guy we were doing business with. "Of course, Bren. Give me a couple minutes to start a pot of coffee and I'll set us up in the back." Nodding at Colton, I made a fast exit toward the room in the back of the shop we'd set up for lunch breaks.

I tried to control my racing heart rate as I counted out scoops of coffee grounds. Except I was soon comparing the color of his eyes to my favorite drink. Oh shit, how many was that? Four, five, or six scoops? I settled on five and if it turned out too strong, well we had creamer in the fridge or there was tap water.

Jeez, I couldn't even make the coffee without daydreaming about him, how was I going to pull this project off without turning into a love-starved fool who hadn't had sex in over a year because no one had tripped my alert system quite like the former Army Ranger turned cement contractor just did.

Dammit, why couldn't my best friend's brother be average looking or have an annoying personality or an overbite and severe halitosis at the very least?