Spirited 1 (11 page)

“I work here.”

“You work
here
?” He spread his arms wide briefly, gesturing toward the shop.

“Yes, I’m the manager.” With that she turned and strode toward the front door.

“Jules, wait.” He followed and pulled her to a stop. “About last night. I’m, uh . . .” His words trailed off, as if he were unsure how to continue.

“We don’t have to talk about it. In fact, I’d be thrilled if you never brought it up again.” Jules patted his fingers with her hand until he released her, then continued up the four concrete steps to the shop.

“In my defense, you were smokin’ last night,” Mason said as he reached around her to open the door. “Come on, tell me. You
were
secretly that hot when we were lab partners, weren’t you?”

“Not then or now.” She snorted. “Come on, I thought we were friends. You never hit on me in school. And I preferred it that way. I always liked being your friend rather than one of your conquests.”

She practically bolted inside, crossing the floor in hurried, sure steps.

“Jules, wait.” He stopped her from ducking behind the counter by placing a hand on her arm.

She glanced back to find his cheeks mottled red. “Last night really
was
an accident. In the dark, from behind you . . . you looked a little like my fiancée. I swear I wouldn’t have touched you had I realized.”

“You’re engaged?”

When his cheeks darkened even more, she could see a bit of the boy she once knew. This wasn’t the quarterback looking to score with all the cheerleaders. This was Mason, her friend. And when he gazed at her with sincerity in his blue eyes, the embarrassment she felt over last night’s little debacle faded.

“I really am sorry. You have no idea how much,” he said, clearly as uncomfortable with the situation as she.

With a half-laugh she admitted, “It’s fine.”

She’d have agreed to almost anything to end the embarrassing conversation. Again, the story of her life these past few years. The only intimate touches she’d received from anyone had been police pat-down demonstrations from hot cops and accidental kisses from old friends.

Shoving away the unwanted thoughts, she sidled out of Mason’s reach. She moved around the counter, grabbed an apron, then put it on.

Mason glanced around the showroom then back to her. “I thought your boyfriend convinced you to become a teacher.”

“Good memory.” She smiled. “I did that for a while, but it wasn’t really for me. I run April’s Flowers now and I’m much happier.”

“What happened to the boyfriend? Did you two ever get married?”

Before she was forced to reply to that really uncomfortable question, Diana rushed out from the back room. “Oh, Jules, I didn’t know you were here yet.” Reaching into her apron, Diana pulled out a key and handed it to Jules. “Miss April said to give this to you.”

“Thanks.” Jules tucked it into the same pocket as the other two keys.

Diana glanced at Mason and moistened her black lips in a manner too seductive to be appropriate for a teenaged girl. She held out her hand to him. “Hi, I’m Diana. I do all the floral designs. Can I get you anything special?”

“Actually, I’m here to see my friend, Jules.” Mason nodded to Jules.

“Oh.” Diana’s come-hither look vanished and she released his hand at the same time the silver entry bells chimed announcing a new customer. “Excuse me.” Diana headed off to help the new arrival.

“She seems . . . unique.” Mason stared off in the direction where Diana had hurried.

“She’s a great kid.” Jules grinned at him when he met her gaze again. “So what can I do for you? Picking up flowers for your
fiancée
?”

“Yes, I’d like two dozen long-stemmed orange roses.” Jules checked the inventory book, not surprised to find that was her entire inventory of orange roses for the day. Making a note to order more, she then went to the refrigeration case to retrieve his order while he continued to talk. “Last night with you was supposed to be my apology to her . . . well, if you had been her.”

“That explains a lot,” Jules replied, carrying the wrapped flowers back to the counter.

“Unfortunately, I think she saw what happened.” He grimaced. “I can’t get her to return my calls today.”

Ouch.

Still, Jules couldn’t help flashing hot and cold at the memory. While there was zero attraction between them, she was woman enough to admit that if the right man had delivered an
apology
like he’d delivered last night, any slate he’d dirtied would’ve been wiped clean.

But doing that to the wrong girl in a case of mistaken identity?

Not so much.

“I’m sure she’ll understand once you explain,” she said.

“I doubt it. I’m hoping when she sees me with the roses, she’ll at least soften enough to listen before she slams the door in my face.” Mason blew out a breath and shook his head. He cleared his throat and his charming I-can-get-away-with-murder grin was back on his face. “Jules, let me take you to lunch. I want to make up for the ki—”

“That’s very sweet.” She cut him off before he could mention exactly what had transpired between them. Although Diana and the new customer were at the other end of the counter, the last thing Jules needed was for them to overhear. That would just make last night’s mortification complete. “Mason, you said you wanted to order flowers. We really should get to that. I’m sure your fiancée will love them. Shouldn’t you be taking her to lunch?”

“Yes, but—”

“Jules, do you have the special arrangement book I showed you this morning?” Diana interrupted, searching through a pile of black, nine-by-twelve portfolios. “I can’t find it in my stack.”

“Check in the back, I’ll look here.” Jules bent down to search. She yanked a book from the middle of the heap be- neath the counter. She stood and nearly clocked Mason in the face because he’d leaned so far over, as if watching her. Jules gasped in surprise.

Unfazed by the near miss, he grinned at her. “Jules—”

“Hang on, Mason.” Jules held up a finger to silence him. Calling out to Diana, who’d disappeared into the office, she said, “It’s here.”

“Okay,” Diana yelled back. Then the office phone rang. “April’s Flowers,” Diana answered.

Crossing to the customer, Jules opened the portfolio and set it down in front of him. The soldier, by the look of him, wore a blue camouflage uniform that was a size too big. He gave her a tight-lipped smile.

“Here,” Jules said. “Have a look at this one. It’s got our best designs in it. Diana’ll be right back to help you.”

“Thanks,” the young man mumbled with a lisp.

Jules moved toward the other end of the counter and Mason followed. He ran a hand through his perfect blond hair. Instead of mussing it, he gave it that sexy, just-rolled-out-of-bed look. He grinned at her but somehow this smile seemed a bit contrived. “Lunch?”

“Mason, I really appreciate the offer. But shouldn’t you be trying to win your fiancée’s forgiveness and not mine? Buying her flowers is great but you really should be taking her to lunch, not me. I’m fine, really. No harm done.”

An odd look crossed his face. “Come on, I could use your help. If the flowers don’t work, I’ll need advice. She’s not your typical woman and I can’t afford to lose her. Please? Back in college, you used to be really great at giving good advice on women. Bet you still are.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere.” She sighed. Old Spice filled her senses. For a hot guy, he always wore that old cologne. Then again, it had had a resurgence a few years back. “Look, I can’t do it for a couple of days but give me your number and I’ll call you. Lunch would be nice. Maybe by then you and your fiancée will have made up, and you can introduce me to her?”

Mason beamed at her then chucked her under the chin the way he had when they were freshmen. He pulled a business card out of his wallet and handed it to her.

She started to put the card in her apron, but Mason frowned at her. “You are going to call me, aren’t you?”

Something in his tone tugged at her heartstrings. She almost felt sorry for the guy. Plus, had she tucked the card in her apron, she might have lost it. “Of course I’m going to call you. We’re friends.”

As she spoke, she pulled out her purse from where she’d left it earlier in the day and set it on the counter. It landed with a thud.

She opened it, dropped in the card, snapped it closed, then quickly returned it to the spot beneath the counter. When she glanced up, both men shot their gazes to her. Awareness prickled on her skin.

Was it her imagination or had they just shared a look?

CHAPTER 6

B
Y EIGHT FORTY-FIVE
Sunday morning, Seth was ready to delve into the secrets of his very sexy neighbor.

No, he shouldn’t think of her as sexy. It wouldn’t serve him well to let his attention wander from solving his case.

Jules is a person of interest. Nothing more.

So what if he’d decided to finally wear that ridiculously expensive shirt Theresa bought him for his birthday? The one she said made him look like a
total hottie
. And ten years younger. Closer to Jules’s own age.

Sure
, all he wanted was to interview her.

Even he didn’t believe that.

He knocked on his neighbor’s door and waited. It swung open. His heart rate sped up . . . until April, not Jules, appeared.

Then the smell of fresh coffee hit his senses, reminding him he hadn’t yet had his first cup of the day.

“Good morning, Seth. You’re early. Dinner’s not for hours yet,” April teased with a smile. “Run out of milk for your coffee again?”

Without waiting for a response, she turned and waddled back into her apartment, dodging between cardboard boxes stacked in two long rows in her living room. He followed her inside, closing the door behind him.

“Right, dinner. I’ll be here. It was sweet of you to invite me. Are you sure you want to cook? My mother would love to whip up something for your last night in town.”

His mother ran the best Greek restaurant in the city. And she lived for cooking for family and friends. Asking her to prepare a going-away dinner for April and Ernie would delight her to no end.

“Thanks, but no. I really want to cook one meal for Juliana before we head out. Lasagna’s her favorite.” She opened the refrigerator door, pulled out the milk, then closed the door with her hip and turned around. Holding out the carton, she said, “Where’s your mug, or did you run out of coffee too?”

“I didn’t come by for milk.” He glanced around the empty kitchen, noting the coffeemaker was on and the pot still half full. “But a cup of coffee would be great.”

April must have caught him eyeing the pot because she had moved before he’d finished speaking. She poured him a cup and even added a splash of milk to the mug before returning the carton to the refrigerator.

“Thanks.” Seth accepted the cup and took a sip. Hazelnut roast exploded on his taste buds and he sighed. “Delicious as always. You make the best coffee I’ve ever tasted. Just don’t tell my mother I said that.”

“Ernie makes me promise the same thing.” April beamed. “Your secret is safe with me.”

“Where is Ernie? I thought I heard him talking to Mrs. Himmel downstairs this morning.”

“Her car broke down, so he gave her a ride to church. He should be back around lunchtime.”

Seth took another sip of coffee then admitted, “I actually came by to talk to Jules about yesterday. Is she up yet?”

“Seth, about yesterday.” April paused then offered him a wan smile. “You know she’s going to pay to replace your shoes. She told me she was going to talk to you about it later today.”

“She wants to buy me new shoes?” He couldn’t quite keep the incredulity out of his voice. “That’s not necessary.”

But it was
very
considerate.

“She felt terrible about what happened and told me that she was pretty certain she’d ruined them. She thought she could have your slacks cleaned but doubted the same was true of your shoes.”

“Yeah, I didn’t bother to bring them into the building.” He scrunched up his nose, remembering the stench as he tossed them into the Dumpster behind their apartment complex. “I do appreciate her offer. Still, it’s not necessary.”

He glanced around the open-floor layout of the apartment. If boxes didn’t line every wall, April’s place would be very similar to his floor plan, with an eat-in kitchen sharing space with a living room. Except where he had watercolors by local artists on his walls, she had photographs. One in particular caught his eye.

Setting down the mug, he crossed from the kitchen to the living room to stare at the framed picture of Ernie, April, and a teenaged girl with a familiar face. The three people sat on a sand dune in matching outfits of white shirts, blue jeans, and sandals. Even their smiles were identical. Bright and wide. As if they’d just shared in a great joke.

“Is this new?” It couldn’t be. Ernie looked about ten years younger in the portrait.

“Kind of. Ernie hung it there about a week ago.” April waddled up beside him and stared up at it. “Juliana took the picture when she was seventeen. We were on vacation and she set up the camera on a tripod and made us pose. The original picture was ruined when Mrs. Himmel’s cat used my picture box as a litter box last year.”