Fool For You (Made for Love Book 4) (15 page)

“Teddy, could I see you out front?”

“Yeah, sure,” I reply with a nod. He leaves before I have a chance to walk with him, and I furrow my brow, curious as to what this could be about. The sound of my heels fills the gallery with the echo of my approach. When I round the corner into the main room, my step falters before my pace slows as I close the distance between the cousins and me.

Geoffrey has the biggest grin on his face, his hands holding a mason jar filled with flowers. This will be the third bouquet I’ve received since Tuesday. What I didn’t know about flowers before, I’m certainly learning now. Right away, I recognize the sunflowers, the roses, and the calla lilies, but there’s something else in the mix that I’ll have to look up later.
After
my chat with Andrew, which no doubt has to do with what is becoming my daily deliveries.

“Buzzkill over here thinks that this is getting ridiculous. I, for one, think it’s
fantastic
,” says Geoff, handing me the arrangement once I am in reaching distance. I fight a smile as I accept the gift and direct my attention to Andrew.

“He’s twisting my words,” Andy mutters, giving Geoff a sideways glance. “What I said was, maybe we should talk to him. If this
Jude
guy is making you uncomfortable in any way, I’m more than happy to take a trip to his office.”

“Oh, Andy, no. It’s okay. Really,” I reach out to give his arm a reassuring squeeze. “He’s not making me uncomfortable. I just—” I look away from him, down at the flowers pressed against my chest, then at Tuesday’s delivery, which sits behind the reception desk. Wednesday’s arrangement went home with me last night. It’s now taking residence with the flowers Harper found over the weekend. They’re still doing their best to hang on, though I’d imagine I’ll have to get rid of them in a couple more days. It’s also possible, at this rate, that I’ll need to toss them just to make room for more.

“I’m sorry if this is bothersome,” I apologize with a sigh. “I know I need to talk to him—and I will. I promise.”

“Freckles, that man wants a hell of a lot more than a conversation.”

I throw a glare Geoff’s way, but he only smirks at me in response. I then roll my eyes before addressing Andy once more. “Like I said—I’ll talk to him. Soon.”

He studies me for a moment before he asks, “You’ll let me know if you need me to go kick his ass?”

“I’m sure that won’t be necessary, but yes. Thank you.”

He offers me a curt nod before he gives my shoulder a squeeze and heads back for his office. I make my way behind the reception desk, setting down the flowers before sinking into my chair. Geoff stands beside me, half sitting, half leaning against the desk as he stares at me. Neither of us speaks. We don’t have to. I know what he wants.
He
knows I know what he wants. So, I endeavor to give him just that. I reach for the little envelope and pull out the note and his business card.

I draw in a deep breath, my heart racing.

Sunday, after dreaming of Judah all night, I made Harper go to church with me. I’m really horrible about going consistently. I’m not particularly close with anyone in the congregation, so there’s not really anyone to keep me accountable. Nevertheless, I do like going. When I’m there, it helps me find my center again—it helps me to remember
why
I believe in God—it helps me remember that I am worth so much more than I ever believed. Sunday morning, after what happened with Jude the evening before, I
needed
that reminder.

What Judah wants from me—my body—I can’t give it to him. After what happened with Justin, after he
stole
what I might have just offered him had he given me more time, it took a lot for me to understand and accept that my body is still mine to give away; that my body is a vessel that was specifically and wonderfully made by the Creator of the universe. It’s a gift, and it’s mine.

It’s been four years since I was robbed of my sense of worth and self-ownership, and I’ve come so far. I’m not ready to just hand myself over—no matter how handsome the invitation. And yet, in the same breath, I cannot deny that Judah makes me feel things that I’ve never felt before in my whole life.

Tuesday morning, after two days of silence, I figured he had heard me when I told him not to call me. I wasn’t disappointed. Not exactly. Something tells me that to
encourage
him would be to enter into a dangerous game I’m not sure I’m equipped to win. But then Tuesday afternoon came—and with it came the most beautiful bunch of red tulips.

Geoffrey pulls me from my thoughts as he grumbles and snatches the note from between my fingers. “Can’t stop thinking of you,” he reads aloud softly. He them hums, flashing me his handsome smile. “Thinking of you. Still thinking of you. Can’t stop thinking of you…come on Teddy, admit it—there’s a part of you that isn’t calling him because you
like
his attention. You don’t want it to stop.”

I press my lips together before burying my nose in the bouquet, hoping to hide my rosy cheeks. The truth is, he’s not entirely wrong. Whether or not I’m ready to admit that is an entirely different story.

“Teddy!” He stands, grabbing my chair and spinning it so that I’m facing him dead on. I look up at him sheepishly, knowing already that I’m not ready to have this conversation with him. “It’s
me
, baby girl. Tell me the truth.”

The look in his blue eyes speaks only of his loyalty. His love for me makes him bias, but he’s also my objective half—always trying to make me see and understand what my blinders or my emotions won’t allow. I know that part of the reason I haven’t opened up to him about Judah, other then to tell him about Saturday night, is because he’ll make me confront what I feel safer running away from. Yet, I’m aware that I can’t hide from him forever. He’s my best friend.

When I nod, he sits down in his chair and leans his elbows on his knees, staring at me as he waits for me to speak.

“He’s charming. Over the phone and in his notes, he’s the gentleman he professes to be. I’d be lying if I told you that I wasn’t flattered that a man like him is interested in a girl like me.” He scowls at me, but before he can jump in, I shake my head at him. “Don’t even start. He’s thirty-one, babe. Plus, he’s successful and
gorgeous
and mature in a way that guys my age just aren’t. He drinks
scotch
for crying out loud.”

Geoff coughs out a half laugh, shrugging his shoulders as a sign of agreement. I take that as my cue to continue.

“While I’m flattered, while I admittedly adore the level of commitment that he’s invested in pursuing me—I’m also not too stupid to see what his end game is. He’s as dangerous as he is charming. And I don’t mean that in a bad way. I don’t feel threatened by him at all. What I said to Andy is true. He doesn’t make me feel uncomfortable. He actually…”

“He actually
what?
” Geoff asks, arching a single eyebrow.

“Nothing. Never mind. I just mean—”

“Oh, no, no, no,” he says with a laugh. “How does he make you feel, Teddy?” I seal my lips closed, refusing to entertain the question. It just makes his smile grow wider. “
Fuck
,” he says with a grin. “You’re not afraid of him
trying
to get into your pants. You’re afraid of yourself
letting
him into your pants.”

“Okay!” I exclaim, snatching the cards out of his hand and tossing them into my purse. “We are no longer having this conversation.”

He laughs some more, folding his arms across his chest as if to shield me from the force of his amusement. “No need, baby girl. I know everything I need to know.” He stands and presses a kiss on top of my head. I jerk away from him, annoyed that he read right through me, but he doesn’t seem to mind. “Let the man take you out. Live a little, Teddy—you might enjoy it.”

He walks away, leaving me alone with my thoughts and my flowers. As I admire the bright, yellow petals of the sunflowers, I don’t even waste my time entertaining his comment. Going to dinner with Judah would be like willingly walking into the lion’s den. I’m not that brave. I’m not that stupid.

And yet, while I stare at the bouquet in front of me, I can’t keep the smile off my face as I wonder what kind of flower he’ll choose for me tomorrow.

“All right, here’s your key to the building,” says Andrew, handing over the shiny, new piece of metal. “This is long overdue.”

“Thank you,” I reply with a smile, reaching for my personal set of keys to add it to the ring.

“Now, you’re sure you can handle this?”

I resist the urge to roll my eyes at him. He’s never let me close the gallery all by myself before. However, I’ve seen him and Geoff do it a thousand times. “Yes. I’m sure. Stop worrying,” I insist.

“Andy, we’re going to be late if we don’t go now. Friday night rush hour will start any time now. Teddy will be fine. Let’s go.” Geoffrey flips his wrist, looking for the time, and then lifts his eyebrows expectantly.

Tonight, my artsy men have been invited to an art exhibition at a gallery down in Denver. It’s actually a pretty big deal that they were invited. Andy says that it means MTA is being recognized as a gallery of note in the Colorado region. I know he’s both excited and nervous to be attending and representing the business he built from the ground up.

“I’ll only be alone for three hours. I know the alarm code, I have a key, and I have both of your cell numbers programed into my phone. Everything will be fine. Would you just
get out
of here, already?”

He studies me for a moment, his hazel eyes searching for reassurance. He must find what he’s looking for because his expression softens before he gives me a nod and turns to meet Geoffrey at the door.

“You’ll call—”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake.” I watch as Geoff grabs him by the arm and starts ushering him out the door. “We have to go pick up Carrie now,” he tells me from over his shoulder. “I’ll have to deal with
both
of them acting this way when they leave Steven with her parents.
Her parents!
As if they don’t know what the hell they’re doing.”

I giggle and he rolls his eyes. “Have fun, tonight!”

“Text me a picture when those flowers arrive,” he calls out with a parting wave.

My smile slips at the same time that my stomach begins to tingle. For a moment, I had forgotten about the fact that I’ve yet to receive a delivery today. It’s getting late, and usually it would have come by now. I’m not really sure what that means—if it means anything at all—and I try and convince myself not to worry about it. Realistically, I shouldn’t be surprised if he’s given up. Judah has been sending me flowers going on two weeks now, and the last three bouquets have resulted in nothing but silence from my end. For all he knows, I could be throwing away his gifts.

I’m not, though. I could never. No one has ever made me feel as special as he does.

Then again, I remember what it feels like to be nothing more than a piece of ass. I won’t deny that I’m afraid he’s capable of making me feel like
that
, too. It would be different, of course, but still. Whether I offer myself willingly or not, I know that I’m worth more than just
sex.

I’m pulled from my thoughts when a couple walks through the front door. I greet them, and it isn’t long before we’re lost in conversation and I’m showing them around, hoping to help them find what they might be looking for. There’s a steady flow of traffic through the gallery until around six, and then it gets quiet again. I wish it had stayed busy. The lack of activity gives my mind the freedom to wander; and as I admire my red tulips, and my arrangement of sunflowers, calla lilies, roses, and
hydrangeas
—I had to look those ones up yesterday—I think about Judah.

Every time I walk away from him, there’s a part of me that fears I’ve seen the last of him. I’m not entirely sure why that possibility is so disappointing, considering I know what the man is after, but it’s a feeling I can’t shake. My body isn’t so quick to forget what it feels like to touch him, or to be touched
by
him, or to even just stand beneath the intent gaze of those dark, grey eyes. He makes me short of breath just by being in my presence, and there’s something romantically magical about that. Though, regardless of how my body responds to the man, I think this time he really has given up. No flowers surely means that he’s moved on to another.