The Serial Killers Guide to Love (Deadly Darling #1)

Chapter 6

6

Lilly

For the rest of the day, I was paralyzed. My mind was unable to process anything.

Unable to think, as I functioned like a robot. Take the flower pot, wrap it, take the money or the card, and so on.

Sam couldn’t be one of Mike’s men. He was just a bookstore owner. Nothing out of the ordinary, but then, why was he returning home at 3 am in the morning?

I bit my lower lip.

Because he has a life. Maybe he even has a girlfriend, or maybe he is dating and doesn’t want to bring the women over. That I can understand. I wouldn’t like to have a stranger in my house either. Just thinking about a man touching me made me shiver, but not when that man was Sam.

There was something about him that made me want to lean into him, inhale his scent and rub my hands over his chest. And what a chest.

It was impossible not to notice the outline of his chest and muscular arms. Those muscles were not only from lifting books, that I knew for sure.

He had a way of making me nervous and at peace at the same time. If I would only be able to form one clear sentence in his presence, that would be golden and maybe he wouldn’t think that I was a moron.

But then, he looked me up at the market. He came to talk to me about flowers.

I looked Williams books up on the internet and checked for opening hours. It was a fast decision, they were still open for one hour, so why not go over and see the store.

Closing down my booth, I was on my way, and chewed my lower lip as I drove. The van was slow and the world was moving as if we were all stuck in caramel.

Move, damn you.

Move.

I was in a hurry to get to the store. To see with what light conditions I was working at all.

With only 15 minutes to spare, I made it to the store. My wild hair stuck to the back of my neck, making me want to scratch my skin.

The door opened with a clinking noise and a dark haired, handsome man stood behind the register.

“Hi, welcome to Williams books, let me know if I can help you.”

His voice was pleasant, but my inside deflated because I hoped that I would see Sam.

“Oh, hi, is Sam here?”

“Nope, but you can leave him a message.”

The man said it very matter of fact, as if it was normal for women to leave messages for his boss. It probably was. Sam is drop dead gorgeous and awesome.

“I was hoping to be able to look around and take a few pictures. Sam asked me about some flowers for the store. I am a florist.”

I added pointing towards myself.

A few people were still in the store and browsed the books.

“Oh, I don’t know anything about that, but you can look around and take pictures. We are very Instagramable, and if you want to leave any message for the Boss, I will make sure that he will receive it.”

I stood there, like a dumb ass.

“Thank you, but he lives across the street from me, so I can just, you know, go over.”

“Okay, cool.”

“I’ll take a look.”

I was rooted to the ground, but had to get moving, because my behavior made me look like some sort of stalker.

The bookstore had more light than I expected. I don’t know why I always associated book stores with gloomy dusty places. I am more of a Amazon order girl, but this place was nice.

Open, sunny.

Taking my phone out, I took a few pictures of spots where flowers would look good and where they would thrive.

Maybe orchids.

Orchids don’t need so much light and they would be pretty. Maybe they could hang from the ceiling.

I made a few mental notes and was ready to work on a project for the store.

The need to leave pushed me to move fast, because otherwise I was almost sure that the ground would split open and I would die of embarrassment. It was 8 th grade again and I was about to ask Dylan to sit with me at the movie, before he laughed at me in front of the entire class. And I wanted to die . And as soon as my ass hit the chair of my van, I leaned back with my eyes closed.

You are a grown ass woman, you can deal with this.

Okay it’s a job, you had decoration jobs before, he is a client. I can talk numbers, offer a sketch, what’s the issue.

The issue was that he was my favorite fantasy in my nightly spank bank.

No matter what I read, what type of smut I tried to use to push Sam away from my mind it was always him.

He was the orc, the dragon, the minotaur. He was fucking it, and I was acting like a school girl with a crush.

The drive back home was long and exhausting because my AC decided to call it quits in the Van.

Great, just awesome.

Every Floridians dream, a car without AC.

Sam’s car was parked in front of his house, but I entered my driveway without looking at his house.

All I needed after today was a hot shower, a pint of ice cream and my new dragon smut story.

Maybe it will push Sam out of my fucking head.

Tomorrow, when I talk to him, I will act like a professional. He was interested in flowers, that is not a invitation for me to drool so much that the poor man would drown in my saliva.

Stop it.