She'd already come in and kissed Granny, who was holding court in the living room with Harmony's brother Drake and some of his friends, giving her time to catch up with Alyssa.
Alyssa laid her hand over Harmony's and cast a look of concern. "And why do you hate men? Is it Levon?"
Harmony wrinkled her nose, preferring never to hear the name of her now ex-boyfriend again. "Yes."
"Did you two break up?"
"I did not break up with him. He gave me the classic, 'It's not you, it's me' speech. He's doing so much international travel with the law firm, and he just can't devote enough time to the relationship, so it wouldn't be fair to me to lead me on when he knows he can't commit. He went on with more excuses but it was all blah blah blah after that." She waved her hand back and forth.
Alyssa's gaze narrowed. "What a prick. Why is it so damn hard to find a man of value, one who will respect a woman and give her honesty?"
"I have no idea." Harmony pulled one of the empty glasses forward and poured from the pitcher that sat in the middle of the table, already filled with tea and ice and loaded with so much sugar she'd likely be awake all night. At this point, she didn't care. She'd work it off in a gym session tomorrow. "All I know is I'm glad to be rid of him. It was bad enough his bathroom counter had more product on it than mine did."
Alyssa laughed. "There you go. What does a man need on his counter besides a toothbrush, soap, deodorant and a razor?"
"According to Levon, there was stuff for his beard, trimming devices, facial scrub, moisturizer--separate ones for his face and his body. An entire manicure set for his nails, for use when he wasn't off getting mani-pedis of course."
"Of course," Alyssa said, then giggled.
"Oh, and the scents. Let's not forget his entire rack of colognes."
Alyssa nodded. "The man did reek, honey."
"I think he owned more perfume than I do."
"Never a good sign. See? You dodged a bullet."
"I did."
Alyssa lifted her glass. "Let's toast to that."
They clinked glasses. "To men we're lucky to have not ended up with," Harmony said.
"What are we toasting to?"
Harmony looked up to find Barrett Cassidy standing at the kitchen table. He was her brother Drake's best friend and teammate, and since the guys both played for the Tampa Hawks football team and they were in football season, Thursday nights meant Drake would drag his friends over to the house for dinner.
One of the nicest things about living in Tampa, as a matter of fact. She'd often thought it had been fortuitous that her brother had been drafted by the hometown team. It had kept him close to home all these years, and of course, one couldn't beat the awesome eye candy her brother brought home now and then.
Especially Barrett. Most especially Barrett.
"We're toasting the end of Harmony's relationship with a man who was absolutely not right for her," Alyssa said.
Barrett arched a brow, then gave Harmony a sympathetic look. "Really. Sorry about that."
Harmony shrugged. "Nothing to be sorry about. Alyssa's right. He wasn't the man for me."
"Then I guess I'm . . . happy for you?"
She laughed, and she could tell this was uncomfortable for him. "Come on. Sit down and have a glass of iced tea with us."
"I'm not sure I want to wade into these waters. Breakups are not my territory."
"Oh, come on, Barrett. Surely you've dumped a woman before," Harmony said, pouring him a glass. "Or you've been dumped."
He pulled out a chair and sat. She'd never realized before how utterly . . . big he was. He'd always kept his distance from her, preferring to hang with Drake, so this was the closest she'd ever been to him. Both he and Drake played defense for the Hawks. Barrett was absolutely pure muscle. Just watching the way his muscles flexed as he moved was like watching liquid art. She could stare at his arms for hours, but she tried not to ogle. Too much, anyway.
"I've been dumped before, sure," Barrett said. "And maybe I've broken up with a woman or two."
Alyssa leaned close to Harmony. "He's downplaying being the one who dumped the woman."
"I heard that, Alyssa."
"I meant for you to hear me, Barrett. You're just trying to be the good guy right now because we're roasting the not-so-good guys."
Barrett narrowed his gaze. "See, I told you I shouldn't be sitting here. If you're gonna want to bad-mouth my species--which you have a right to, since some asshole broke up with you, Harmony--then I should leave. Also, I'd suggest something stronger than iced tea. It helps."
So maybe he had been dumped before. It sounded like he knew how to get through it.
"It's okay, Barrett," Harmony said. "Me getting dumped is definitely not your fault. I'm not as pissed off about it as I probably should be, all things considered. So you're safe here."
Besides, looking at Barrett could definitely make her forget all about Levon and his prissy bathroom counter. She wondered how many items Barrett had on his bathroom counter? She'd just bet not many.
She turned her chair toward him, determined to find out. "Actually, I have a ridiculous question for you, Barrett."
He turned his gorgeous blue eyes on her and smiled. "Shoot."
"How many items currently reside on your bathroom counter?"
Barrett cocked a brow. "Huh?"
Alyssa laughed. "Very good question."
"I don't get it," Barrett said.
"We're conducting a poll about men and their bathrooms," Alyssa said. "Indulge us."
Barrett finally shrugged. "Okay, fine. Uh . . . soap, of course. Toothpaste and toothbrush. Deodorant. Maybe a comb?"
Harmony smiled when Barrett struggled to come up with anything else. She knew he was an absolute male of the not-so-fussy-about-his-grooming variety.
He finally cast her a helpless look. "I don't know. I've got nothin' else. Did I fail?"
"Oh, no," Harmony said. "You most definitely passed."
"You should go out with Barrett," Alyssa suggested. "He's a nice guy, and he obviously doesn't keep thirty-seven things on his bathroom counter."
Barrett laughed. "Yeah, and Drake would kill us both. Well, he'd definitely kill me."
The idea of it appealed, though. She'd had such a crush on Barrett when Drake had first introduced them all those years ago. And now? Hmmm. Yeah, definitely appealing.
"What my brother doesn't know won't hurt him--or you. What do you say, Barrett? Care to take me out?"
BARRETT WAS AT A LOSS FOR WORDS. HARMONY WAS his best friend's little sister.
Only she wasn't so little anymore. When he'd first been drafted by Tampa, he and Drake had bonded. Both of them played defense, they'd been roommates and they'd become friends. It had been that way for the past five years.
He'd been coming here to Granny's house ever since that first year, back when Harmony had been in college. Now she was a woman, with a career of her own, and she'd just been dumped by some guy obviously too stupid to know what a treasure he'd had.
She was beautiful, with light brown skin, long, dark curly hair and those amazing amber eyes. She had the kind of body any man would want to get his hands on, curves in all the right places . . .
And he had no business thinking about Harmony at all, because there was a code--no messing with your best friend's sister.
Absolutely not. No. Wasn't going to happen.
He pushed back his chair and stood, looking down at Harmony as if she was Eve in the Garden and she'd just offered him the forbidden apple. "I know the rule, Harmony, and so do you. I think I'll go check out what Granny made for dinner tonight."
He might be tempted, but there was too much at stake. He was going to step away from the sweet fruit in front of him before he decided to do something really stupid and take a taste.
Because going down that road would spell nothing but doom.
KEEP READING FOR A SNEAK PEEK OF THE NEXT SEXY, HEARTWARMING BOOK IN THE HOPE SERIES . . .
COMING SOON
FROM
REID MCCORMACK STUDIED THE BLUEPRINTS FOR THE old mercantile he'd agreed to renovate in downtown Hope. He still had no idea what he was doing back in his hometown, or why he'd agreed to this job.
It was a big project, and he had plenty of projects with his company in Boston. Shifting responsibilities over had been a giant pain in the ass, as was taking a leave of absence and putting his company--his baby--in the hands of his associates. He'd sweated blood and risked a hell of a lot of money to get his architectural firm up and running, and with numerous late nights and damn good work, he'd made a success of McCormack Architectural Designs.
The thought of not being in Boston overseeing the business sent a shot of nervousness straight to his gut. But, he had to admit, when he'd come to town for his brother Logan's wedding in the spring, and they'd taken a look at this old place, it had been the childhood memories, plus the challenge of restoring the mercantile to its former glory, that had been too hard to resist.
He had ideas for the mercantile. A lot of them. And now that he and his brothers had bought the old building back from the town, it was their responsibility to do right by it. Though Logan and Luke's contribution was limited to providing their part of the capital. As the architect in charge of the project, Reid was going to be the one to put the actual work into it.
He intended to do it justice.
And when the job was done he'd head back to Boston, where he belonged.
Because while Hope would always be home to him, it wasn't his home anymore.
So now he stood in the middle of a pile of crap covering the main floor of the old mercantile, his boots kicking around years' worth of dust and debris. He might be the youngest McCormack brother, but he had great memories of this old place.
His lips ticked up as he remembered the old building in its glory days. One particular day, Dad was walking them past, trying to corral three rambunctious boys on their way to the ice cream store. Reid was always the best behaved, so he'd stayed by Dad's side while Logan and Luke ran off ahead, getting into one thing or another. But he and Dad had stopped to look inside. At the time, there had been offices, with busy people doing their jobs. Even at age five, Reid had been fascinated by the old brick building. Dad had been, too. Reid could still remember the people inside stopping to smile and wave at him. And he'd waved back.
Mom hadn't been with them that day. She often wasn't. Raising kids hadn't been her favorite thing.
Had she ever come to town with them? She'd often gone into Tulsa by herself to shop. But she'd never brought him or his brothers along. She'd said they were too rowdy and she needed her space.
Yeah, she'd needed a lot of space. So much space that as soon as Reid had turned eighteen, she'd taken a hike.
Forever.
He heard a knock on the front door, dissipating the cloud of memories.
Figuring it was the general contractor he'd hired--or maybe his brothers, who were also supposed to meet him here today, he went to the door and pulled it open.
It wasn't the contractor or his brothers. It was Samantha Reasor, the owner of the flower shop around the corner. Sam was the one who'd pushed hard for them to take on this project. Or rather, for him to take it on. She was as passionate about the mercantile as anyone in Hope.
Today she wore skinny dark jeans that showcased her slender frame. Her blond hair was pulled high on top of her head, and she had on a short-sleeved polo shirt that bore the name "Reasor's Flower Shop." And she had the prettiest damn smile he'd ever seen, with full lips painted a kissable shade of pink.
Not that he was thinking about kissing her or anything. He was back in Hope to work.
"Hi, Reid. I heard you were in town and getting ready to start the project. I couldn't wait to get inside here again. I hope I'm not bothering you or anything. If I am, I can take off."
"Hey, Sam. You're not a bother. Come on in. Though the place is still as dusty as it was when we did the walk-through in the spring. Are you sure you want to get dirty?"
She waved her hand as she stepped in. "I don't mind. I've been arranging flower baskets all day for an event. There are probably leaves in my hair."
As she walked by, he inhaled the fresh scent of--what was that? Freesia? Roses? Hell if he knew since he didn't know jack about flowers, only that Sam smelled damn good. And there were no leaves in her hair.
She turned in a circle, surveying both up and down the main room. "It's amazing, isn't it?"
He laughed. "Right now it's a dump."
Her gaze settled on him. "Oh, come on. Surely you can see beyond the trash and the layers of dust to what it can be. Do you have ideas yet? I mean, of course you do, because you're here to renovate." She spied the rolled-up documents in his hand. "Do you have blueprints?"
"Yeah."
"Care to share? I'd love to see the plans you've worked up."
"Actually, the general contractor is due to show up here shortly, along with Luke and Logan. You're welcome to hang out while we go over them."
She pulled her phone out of her back pocket. "Unfortunately, I can't. I have a delivery to make in about thirty minutes. But I'd really like to see the blueprints. Are you busy for dinner tonight?"
"Uh, dinner?"
"Sure. Why don't you come over to my place? I make a mean plate of spaghetti. If you're not busy with your family. I know you'd like to get reacquainted with them, so I don't want to step all over that."
"No, it's not that. I've been here a couple days already, so we've done the reacquainted stuff." He didn't know what the hell was going on. Was she asking him out, or was she just interested in seeing the blueprints?
"Perfect. Give me your phone and I'll put my address and cell number in it."
He handed his phone over and Sam typed in her info.
"Is seven okay?" she asked. "That'll give me time to close up the shop and get things going."
"Sure."
"Great." She grasped his arm. "I'm so glad you're here, Reid. I'll see you later. You and your blueprints."
She breezed out the door and he found himself staring at the closed door, wondering what the hell had just happened.
Sam probably just wanted to get a good look at the blueprints when they'd have more time. She was interested in the old building. Not in him.
And he wasn't interested in her. Or any woman. He was in town to refurbish the mercantile, and nothing more.
But at least he'd get to enjoy her company and a home-cooked meal tonight.
SAM WENT BACK TO THE SHOP, WISHING SHE'D HAD more time to check out Reid--check out the blueprints. Not that Reid wasn't some awesome eye candy. Today he'd worn loose jeans, boots and a short-sleeved T-shirt that showed off his tanned, well-muscled arms.
It had taken everything in her to walk out of the mercantile. Fortunately, she had a job and a timeline, and that always came first. She loaded up the flowers that Georgia Burnett had ordered for the chamber of commerce luncheon today, put them in her van and drove them over to the offices. Georgia, who'd had a terrible fall last year and had spent several months laid up, was back to her old cheery, mobile self again. And since she was the mother of two of Sam's friends, Emma and Molly, Georgia was like a mother to Sam as well. Which was so nice since the only family Sam had left was her Grammy Claire.
And family was a big deal to Sam.
"Hello, Georgia, how are you?"
"Doing wonderfully, Samantha. And you?"
"Great." She pressed a kiss to Georgia's cheek while simultaneously juggling two baskets of flowers.
"The baskets are gorgeous, honey," Georgia said. "The tables are already set up inside, so you can place them in the center of each one."
"Will do."
Sam went about her business, and once she finished, she said good-bye to Georgia and headed back to the shop. She had several individual flower orders to prepare and deliver, which took up the remainder of her day.
Which suited her just fine. Busy was good for business, and business had been great
lately. She had two weddings coming up, including Georgia's daughter Molly's.
When her phone buzzed, she smiled. Speaking of the bride-to-be . . .
"Hey, Molly," she said, putting her phone on speaker so she could continue to work.
"Are you sure the peach roses are going to come in on time?" Molly asked.
"Yup."
"And how about the lilies? Oh, and the corsages for my mom and for Carter's mom?"
"All under control, honey."
Molly paused. "I'm being a neurotic mess, aren't I?"
"Nope. You're being a bride. This is normal."
"I have a checklist of items; and then I came across flowers, and I know we've gone over this a hundred times, but you know, I just had to check."
Sam was used to this. Brides called her all the time, even if everything was perfect. "Of course you had to check. Call anytime. But Molly? I've got this. Trust me."
"Okay. Thanks, Sam."
"You're welcome. I'll talk to you soon." She hung up, figuring Molly would call her again tomorrow.
Which didn't bother her at all, because as a florist, her job was to keep her customers happy. And when one of her customers was also one of her closest friends, that counted double.
She delivered the afternoon flowers, then came back to clean up the shop and prep things for tomorrow morning. By then it was closing time, and she made a quick grocery list so she could dash in and get what she needed for dinner tonight.
She had no idea why she'd invited Reid over for dinner. First she had to go in and start blabbering at him like she had some kind of motormouth disease.
Ugh. What was wrong with her, anyway? She was normally calm and in control of herself.
Except around Reid for some reason. Ever since that night at Logan and Des's wedding when she'd sat next to him and felt an instant ping of attraction.
And once it was there, she'd been ridiculously shy around him.
Normally when a woman was shy, she'd be quiet, right?
But not Samantha. No, she had run-of-the-mouth issues when she was around a man she was attracted to.
So what did she do with Reid? She invited him to dinner. An impulse suggestion, for sure, and only because she really wanted to see the blueprints. But was that the only reason? When he'd been in town in the spring for the wedding, she'd definitely felt that tug of . . . something.