“Coming here was a mistake,” she murmured as she took a step forward and reached for the letter on his desk.
Lucas snaked his hand out to cover hers, waiting until her gaze met his. The instant she looked at him, Lucas knew he had her. She was in a bind and he could help...with a price. He didn’t want to be a dick about this, but he also had his own wants and needs. No reason they couldn’t help each other, right?
Besides, he’d given up on fairy-tale thinking long ago. He knew love was just a four-letter word people tossed around to benefit their own needs.
“The only mistake would be you walking out again, Tart.”
Her lips thinned. “If we’re done with the past, then stop calling me that.”
She was still so damn sexy when her cheeks tinged pink when she got angry. Every part of him wanted to give her hand a yank until she stumbled down onto his desk where he could give her a proper reunion.
But business came first. She’d taught him that valuable lesson.
“I’ll help you,” he told her, keeping his hand on hers. He slowly rose to his feet and leaned across the desk. “I’ll discreetly dig into this story about Sterling being your father and I’ll save your bridal shop because I know you’re on the brink of financial ruin.”
Paisley’s lids lowered, out of shame or frustration he didn’t know. “And you want something in return. What is it?” she asked, focusing back on him.
Lucas released her now and tucked that wayward strand of honey-blond hair behind her ear. “Marry me.”
Oh, he was the most infuriating, arrogant man she’d ever met. Of all the things he could’ve asked for...
Was he mocking her and the life they’d had all planned out?
Or did he honestly believe marrying him would solve all of her problems? As if Lucas Ford had some magic wand that came with a marriage certificate and he’d wave it around like her sexy fairy godfather and she’d see stars and hearts.
Okay, that all sounded fabulous, but even he wasn’t that powerful. And if he could manage all that, there was no way in hell she’d marry him. Her life was a mess and she wasn’t in the mood to play games.
That was why yesterday she had simply snatched the letter from his desk and marched out of his fancy office without a word. She’d told herself she’d figure this all out on her own...somehow.
First, her bridal boutique, Lilac Loft. Paisley slid two ball gown wedding dresses down the rack to make room for the new beaded A-line that had been a special order. Each wedding was special and each bride was treated like she was the only customer. Paisley prided herself on giving each wedding the time and attention it needed. She’d had one part-time employee, but Paisley had to let her go when the whole financial debacle happened, thanks to Sterling.
Talk about feeling terrible. Paisley had hated letting Margaret go. The young girl had been so sweet, but the extra expense was just pushing Paisley to a position she wasn’t comfortable with.
Paisley slid her hand down the clear bag that protected the beaded gown and couldn’t help but let her daydreams get the best of her—an occupational hazard.
One day she’d have her own fabulous gown from her own store. She’d walk down the aisle lined with her favorite flowers—lilac—to the man of her dreams waiting at the end. A man that was not blackmailing her into marriage simply because they shared a past.
What was his angle, anyway? Did he just want to prove that he could get her? Did he just want her in his bed?
Paisley turned and pulled another plastic-wrapped, embellished gown from the shipment box. Each dress that passed through her store had the ability to make any woman feel like royalty, or a freakin’ warrior if that’s what she chose. Wedding gowns were the pinnacle of each ceremony. And while the focus should be on the happy couple, everyone knew all eyes were on the bride and what she wore. That second she stepped to the beginning of the aisle was like her own little red carpet moment.
Paisley had dealt with brides who wanted all the bling and poof, while other brides preferred short and simple. Some wanted a veil while others preferred a simple flower or even a sparkling headband. Paisley loved her job and that each customer brought unique opinions and ideas for their special day.
Unable to resist, Paisley hung the second gown up and pulled the zipper down. She parted the plastic and slid her fingertip over the intricate beadwork. Each time she mentally planned her wedding, she volleyed back and forth between wanting an intimate wedding with a little simple, body-hugging strapless dress or a lavish cathedral wedding in an elaborate gown with a train that trailed the aisle behind her, à la Princess Diana.
Regardless of the dress and the venue, the man and the marriage itself were all that mattered. One day she would marry, she’d have kids and live happily ever after. She didn’t think that was a fantasy at all. She made her living off believing such realities and truly felt with her whole heart that there was someone out there for everyone.
Her someone wasn’t Lucas Ford. She’d once thought he was, but if that were the case, they would’ve ended up together before now. She didn’t think fate threw her the curve of taking her mother away only to give her back the one man she truly loved.
“That’s a beautiful dress.”
Paisley startled and spun around, her hand to her heart. The devil himself stood before her, only there were no horns and a pitchfork. Only a black Stetson and a shiny belt buckle for this one.
“I’m not open yet,” she informed Lucas.
With that black suit and black shirt, he looked absolutely perfect amid these crisp white gowns. Like the mysterious cowboy coming to sweep away his bride. If only her life were that simple and utterly romantic. Her heart fluttered at the idea.
“Door was unlocked,” he replied as he leaned a shoulder against the back door leading to the storage room.
Paisley tucked the dress, and her fantasy, away and turned her full attention to her unwanted guest.
“My sign says Closed,” she retorted. “But I assume you don’t follow rules. So, what do you want?”
“You left my office without an answer to my proposal.”
Paisley snorted and resisted the urge to roll her eyes—barely. “Any other man would have taken my silence and dramatic exit as answer enough.”
“Other men don’t know you like I do, Tart.”
“Would you stop with that?” she demanded.
“Why?” he asked, pushing off the door and stalking toward her. “You don’t like remembering us?”
“There is no us.” No matter how much she’d wanted them to last. Back then her dreams had included Lucas. Now she had new goals and none of them involved an old boyfriend.
“Listen. If you’d get your pride out of the equation, you’d see that marrying me is the smartest move for you.”
He took another step toward her until he stood way, way too close. That expensive, masculine cologne wafted around her, pulling her tighter into his web of charm and seduction.
Hell, at this point she didn’t need all of those past memories tugging her into submission. The man Lucas had grown into was doing a fine job of that on his own.
“You’ll owe me nothing for finding the truth about your father,” he started, those