A Curvy Girl for the Cadet: A Perfect Fit Novella Read Online Free PDF Page A

curling on her lips. “How can I help you this morning?”
    “Loretta,” Daisy hissed. Her mother-in-law had a thing for younger men. They had a thing for her too because she didn’t look anywhere near her sixty years and she was a dead ringer for Jennifer Tilly, bountiful curves and all.
    “What?” She looked over to Daisy. “I was just greeting our customer. He’s cute, isn’t he? I usually like ‘em a little more clean cut, but he’ll do as long as his beard doesn’t scratch me.”
    Clayton walked over to her, ignoring Loretta’s brazen come on. “You’re my neighbor.” He studied her face with those icy colored eyes and she felt like she was being inspected.
    “I am. And you’re in my shop.”
    “What’s your name?” he asked her, apparently not one for small talk.
    “Daisy Lee Gracen.” She extended her hand. He looked at it for a moment as if he didn’t trust it, but then he shook it. She was no petite flower, but his hand swallowed hers. It was warm and rough. The hands of a working man. His grip was firm and for some reason heat traveled up the back of her neck, she could feel the little hairs on it stand at attention. Such a weird reaction for a handshake from the scary man who lived next door. “You must be Clayton Calhoun. I get your mail sometimes.”
    He nodded. “You have daisies on your lower back. Now I know why.”
    She blinked at him for a moment, not sure she had really heard what he had said. “Excuse me?”
    He didn’t look apologetic or embarrassed, but his words weren’t exactly smarmy either. Just matter of fact. “You garden. Our houses are very close. I’ve seen them.”
    “You’ve also seen my ass then.”
    “I’m not complaining about it.” There was no hint of humor in his eyes. No laughter in his voice, no smirk curling his lips, but she smiled. He had made her smile. The pressure of his hand increased just a little bit more and she realized that they had never ended their handshake. She pulled her hand away from his, still feeling the heat radiating through it.
    She cleared her throat. “Was there something I could help you with?”
    “You’re a florist.” It wasn’t a question.
    “And you’re a scruffy bearded man in my shop.”
    He raised his brows slightly. “What’s with the lemons?”
    “It’s for an arrangement I’m doing.” She had a smaller square vase inside of a larger round one and filled it up most of the way with water before she started arranging the lemons inside of it.
    He watched her work silently for a few moments. She had worked in a flower shop for ten years, a floral designer for eight of them, and had done thousands of arrangements, but this time she was nervous. Having him watch her, even though she knew the flowers wouldn’t be for him, made her nervous.
    “Hmm,” he said after a while. “I need flowers for my mother.”
    “Were the flowers you had yesterday supposed to be for your mother?”
    “Yes.”
    “But you gave one to my kid?”
    “Yes.”
    “And now you have to replace them.”
    He nodded once. There was something about him she couldn’t put her finger on. He was a mess. Wild hair. Thick beard. Paint smeared clothes. But the way he held himself… Tall. Confidently. Like he was always in command. The beard and hair just seemed to be hiding it all.
    “You want sunflowers again?”
    “And daises,” he said looking her in the eye. “Put daises in there.”
    She stopped the arrangement she was working on and did what he asked with her best sunflowers and tiny white daisies as accents. He watched her as she worked again, not saying anything, never making an attempt at small talk and she wondered what was going through his mind.
    “Is this okay?” she asked when she was done.
    He just nodded again. “How much?”
    “No charge.”
    “I want to pay.”
    “Too bad. Consider it a neighborly thing to do.”
    “Thank you, Daisy.” He extended his hands to hers and she took it, but this time he just