Tiger Lily - May Dawson Page 0,14

tried to smile, even though the butterflies in my stomach turned into a swarm, and said, “I’ll take the job.”

Dylan lunged to hug me, and I was laughing even before he swept me off my feet.

I’d never met such an enthusiastic HR manager before in my life.

7

The next day, the tow truck showed up in the morning as I was drinking my coffee and finishing another chapter in the book. I took another sip, ignoring the sudden flutter in my chest at the thought of seeing Dylan again.

Instead, I focused on the page, because I really want to finish Love Blooms. I was invested now.

And before I knew it, it wasn’t the men of Love Blooms that I was imagining…

The words on the page faded. It was Blake and Archer that I imagined…

“He’s the smart one,” the rude-and-bossy-but-sexy one says.

“You don’t need to be condescending about smart,” I scold him. “I like smart.”

“You also like rock-hard abs,” the rude one says, lifting up his shirt.

I roll my eyes. But he does have very impressive abs, all hard, lickable ridges above angular hip bones.

Still, he already thinks highly enough of himself.

The quiet one just stares at me, and I can’t quite read that look. Something about the way he looks at me makes me feel funny, though.

Funny in a good way?

Funny in a scary way?

Both.

“I’ll bet his abs are lickable too,” I tell the bossy one.

He raises his eyebrows—darn, I hadn’t meant to tell him that—but I catches the nerdy one’s hand and tows him away, until we have some privacy.

“I’ve got a problem,” I say, turning to face him, “and I think you have the solution.”

He stares at me, and I touch my lips self-consciously. “What is it? Is there something on my face?”

He leans in and kisses me.

She should probably tell him that kisses won’t solve her problem.

But not quite yet.

Just as the princess and the nerdy one try to work out their problems—and I would bet the two of them together could solve their way out of any pickle—my grandfather called, “Lily!”

I almost threw the book. Being startled while reading was like being forcibly yanked out of a dream world. For a few jarring seconds, this world didn’t feel quite real.

I looked up to find my grandfather smiling bemusedly at me. I raked my hand through my curls, which were still drying from my shower, as my racing heart slowed back to normal.

I followed his gaze through the living room windows. He stood watching the guys hook up the car. Nerves twisted through my stomach like a mouse running through the grass, and I had regrets about taking this job.

“I’m proud of you, Lily,” my grandpa said suddenly.

I scoffed. “Why?”

“You’re keeping an open mind,” he said, “and you’ve been hurt. That takes courage. Intelligence. Resilience.”

I turned a skeptical eye on him, but he smiled at me. “You’ve always had that, though. You’re a special girl, Lily.”

“I’m your granddaughter, you’re biased.”

“Sure,” he agreed as I headed toward the door, “but that doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”

“Love you Grandpa,” I said, all in a rush as I pulled the door closed behind me, so he wouldn’t get the last word.

“You just have to let yourself be open to new experiences!” he shouted back. Since the door was already in motion, it banged shut halfway through his speech, cutting off the tail end to a whisper.

When I walked outside, Blake and Dylan looked at me. Blake’s eyes brightened when he looked at me the same way they had that first day, and Dylan’s lips parted slightly as he gazed at me, even though I was just wearing gray dress pants and a demure black blouse.

The way they looked at me made my stomach do flip-flops, not that I wanted to admit that.

“Where’s Archie?” I asked.

“You know he’s shy,” Dylan chided me.

“He’s known me since I played with Barbies!” And he’d been the only one of the three willing to play with me. I’d taken Barbie and he’d taken Ken, and the dolls had gotten into all kinds of mischief: elaborate heists stealing Oreos from the kitchen, the construction of Rube Goldberg machines, campaigns of revenge on the evil paper dolls (who seemed formidable, but always fell over in a fight).

Maybe I hadn’t played Barbies quite like a normal girl.

“You’re kind of scary, though.” Blake crinkled his nose as he looked at me. It was cute—the kind of cute I felt, like a wobble through my body.

“I wish,” I grumbled. “The only time