“I said no.”
Jayne shook her head and pointed to the picture. “Are you crazy?”
“No, I’m busy. And not looking for any distractions. Especially with a-”
“Firefighter. I know. But who says you have to marry the guy? Just use him for sex.”
“What would Tim think if he heard you talking like this?” she asked, referring to Jayne’s studly husband, who owned Santa Rey’s largest surf shop.
“As long as I’m not using Brad for sex, he wouldn’t care.” She looked over Toni’s shoulder at the photo and heaved a gushy sigh. “That is one fine-looking man. Too bad about the nickname this picture spawned.”
Bad? There was nothing bad about it. Mystified, she asked, “What’s his nickname?”
“Would you believe…Elf?”
“Elf?” Toni shook her head. “How’d they get Elf from this picture? He’s gotta be six-four, and nothing on him looks small.” Nope, not a thing.
“The hat.”
Toni’s gaze shifted to his head. And for the first time she noticed that a green hat, the sort Christmas elves in malls wore, was perched on his head at a rakish angle. “Oh.”
“Definitely not what one notices first about this picture,” Jayne said.
Toni hadn’t noticed it at all. “Uh…no.” She could think of a few nicknames the photo would inspire, and none of them were Elf. Steamy, for instance. Or Red-Hot. She doubted he cared for Elf, and she couldn’t blame him.
“He certainly has a nice body,” Jayne said, picking up her shears once again.
An understatement if Toni ever heard one. “Uh-huh.”
“And really nice eyes.”
“I guess.”
“And a great smile.”
“I suppose.” If you liked slightly crooked, devilish and devastatingly sexy smiles. She forced herself to snap the calendar closed then slipped it back in the shopping bag. After setting the bag beneath the counter, she once again returned her attention to the centerpieces.
“And lovely lips,” Jayne said.
Toni heaved an inward sigh. Really lovely lips. The kind that looked soft yet firm at the same time. The kind that undoubtedly knew how to kiss extremely well.
“After we finish these centerpieces, we need to start on the floral arrangement for the Chamber of Commerce,” Toni said.
“You’re changing the subject.”
“Yes, I am. Because there’s nothing left to discuss.”
“Has anyone ever told you you’re extremely stubborn?”
“Yes. My mother. And my nana. And my three brothers. And my sister.”
“Not your father?”
“I’m sure he would have if he’d been able to squeeze in a word around Mom, Nana and the siblings. Now, about the Chamber of Commerce arrangement…”
For the next hour, Toni kept the conversation strictly business. A steady stream of customers trickled in and she took several phone orders. She and Jayne had just finished the wedding arrangements when the door opened. Toni looked up from the box where she was packing the fragrant centerpieces. And stared. At Brad. At least she thought it was Brad. It looked like Brad, but his golden brown hair was flattened down and parted on the side. And what the hell was he wearing?
Her gaze skimmed over black-rimmed glasses whose hinges appeared held together by tape. A white dress shirt with half a dozen pens sticking out of the pocket. Black dress pants that were hiked up way too high on his waist which showed off the dreaded white socks/black shoes combo.
He walked toward her and she realized it was indeed Brad. He stopped in front of the counter and smiled. “Hi, Toni. Hi, Jayne.”
“Is that you, Brad?” Jayne asked, squinting at him.
“Sure is. How do you like my new look?”
“It’s, um, interesting,” Jayne said, clearly trying to be diplomatic.
“What do you think?” he asked Toni.
“You look kinda…nerdy.”
Instead of appearing insulted, he smiled. “Perfect. That’s how accountants are supposed to look, right?”
“So this is for a costume party?” Jayne asked with a laugh.
Brad shook his head. “No. It’s for a date.” He reached in his back pocket and pulled out a gift card. Toni instantly recognized it as the one he’d bought just an hour ago-dinner for two at Sea Shells. He set the card on the counter and pushed it slowly toward her. “You wanted an accountant-you got one. Have dinner with me.”
Warmth rushed through Toni at the gesture. It was funny and annoying and romantic and ridiculous, and to her horror she felt the word yes rush into her throat. She forced it back and fixed him with a stern stare. “I’ve heard of makeovers, but this is definitely a makeunder.”
Looking confused, he pushed up his taped glasses. “Isn’t this what accountants look like?”
“Yeah-in comic strips and cartoons. You look like you got attacked by a copy of The Nerd’s Complete Guide to Bad Fashion.”
“Is that so? Well, at the last accountant convention I attended, this is what I wore and I was the height of fashion. Really. I mean that.”
“Uh-huh.”
He held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Hey, you’re the one who wanted an accountant. I’m just trying to be accommodating.”
“I was actually thinking more along the lines of an accountant who might wear an Armani suit.”
“According to The Nerd’s Complete Guide to Bad Fashion, accountants don’t wear Armani. They wear high-water pants and pocket protectors.” He pointed to the array of writing implements in his shirt pocket. “And always carry bandages in case their pens stab them in the boob.”
A giggle escaped her and she coughed to cover it. “You’re not an accountant.”
“Oh, yeah?” He leaned closer and flashed her a naughty grin. “Wanna see my assets?”
More than I’ll ever let you know. “Keep talking like that and I’ll report you to the IRS.” She pushed the gift card back toward him.
“So even though you said you wanted an accountant and I’ve turned into an accountant, the answer is still no?”
“Correct.” Although she had to give him props for ingenuity. Not that she had any intention of telling him that, of course.
He leaned back and stared at her through those ridiculous glasses and she had to press her lips together to keep from laughing. “What would you say if I told you you’re a hard woman to please?”
“I’d say you were right.”
He muttered something under his breath about women being fickle-hearted creatures then retrieved his gift card and slipped it back in his pants pocket. “No argument here. Well, I guess I’d better go. I have um, accounting-type things to do.”
“You mean like tax returns?” Toni asked.
“Yeah. Stuff like that. See ya.”
How unfair was it that even dressed in high-water pants, the man looked utterly delicious? As soon as the door closed behind him, Jayne planted her hands on her hips and shot Toni The Look.
“I guess you’re wondering what that was all about,” Toni said, ignoring The Look and reaching for another centerpiece.
“Actually, I was able to connect the dots pretty well. What I want to know is how you could possibly turn him down! Did you not see how sweet that was? How romantic? Obviously the guy is totally into you. When’s the last time a man made such an effort?”
Since she couldn’t remember if any man had ever made such an effort, she merely shrugged.
“If I weren’t so in love and so knocked up, I’d have dinner with him. What are you, made of steel?”
“Titanium,” Toni corrected, although, given how tempted she’d been to accept his invitation, she had to wonder if it was true.
“Well, just remember that even titanium can melt if exposed to hot enough temperatures.”
“Noted. Why don’t you start on the Chamber of Commerce piece while I finish boxing these centerpieces?”
“Fine,” Jayne grumbled, her lower lip sticking out in a pout. “I’ll do that while you box centerpieces and regret letting that beautiful man get away.”