After striking out in life, Sam returns home to work in his mom's flower shop where he meets a beautiful event planner.

Moving back home was never a part of my plan. I left Tennessee for New York right after graduation. I was going to make it big by doing… something. Whatever it was was taking too long, and I grew to hate my minimum wage job that was paying my half of the bills. I decided that if I was going to work to make someone else rich, it was going to be my mom.

"Welcome to Mary's Flower Basket," I greeted the costume as she entered. I looked up from the floral magazine to see a woman studying a display. That was my first time seeing her, but I wanted to remember her. "Can I help you?" I offered, silently praying that she'd accept.

She posed with her hands on her wide hips, and the sun coming through the large windows was her spotlight. "No, thank you," she answered over her shoulder. She chose a bouquet and cheerfully pranced to the register.

The moment the vase touched the countertop, my mom came from the back. She beamed, seeing the woman. "Well, aren't you prettier than a magnolia?" Her smile grew wicked as she studied the little hands resting on the counter. "I don't see a ring."

She couldn't suppress her giggle. She wasn't surprised by my mom's look, but chose to ignore her by turning to me. Extending her hand, she introduced, "I'm Mercedes Jones." She had the softest hands I've ever felt. "I'm glad Mary finally hired someone to help."

My mom butted in, "I didn't hire him. This is my son, Sam." She had told Mercedes plenty about me. She promised that we'd get to know each other later, but she wanted to wrap up with the customer. She removed the bouquet she had hidden under the counter since that morning. She was saving it just for her special shopper.

Mercedes didn't lose a second before trading the carnations and daisies for the red rose and purple statice arrangement.

Mom looked at me and warned, "She'll always choose purple...The color of pride." She was back on the wedding talk. "Tank took you to an island for a full month. He didn't propose, really?"

Mercedes and Tank were well known in the city; mostly because Tank's parents owned a megachurch. Everyone talked about the wonderful things the young pastor and event planner did for the welfare of others. They had a giant social media presence. Posing together every week, they had thousands of followers. Some called them "#relationshipgoals," but I wasn't really invested.

"If he did, am I obligated to say yes?" Mercedes challenged. She avoided eye contact and poked at the roses in her bouquet. She wanted my mom to think through her question, but my mom had her mind made up.

"Yes!" my mom answered. "All the time we invested in that man, we deserve a ring."

"We?" Mercedes eyebrows quirked up, but the corners of her mouth did too. She had to get back to her office. Although she always offered and tried, she rarely paid for her arrangements. When my mom refused her payment, she arranged, "Let me take you to lunch tomorrow. You can tell me all the gossip I missed while I was gone." She left satisfied.

Mom was crazy about Mercedes. She could rave about her for hours if she wasn't stopped. "Do you remember that big loan I was struggling to pay back?" she asked me. "Mercedes paid it off for me, and she keeps me going year round with all her parties." My mom was so appreciative.

Like Mom promised, Mercedes and I slowly got to know each other. Three days couldn't pass without Mercedes coming by the shop. She was putting in an order for an event or picking up a personal bouquet. She always had a bright glow to her.

I met Tank later.

He entered the shop and stepped straight to the counter. He wanted an arrangement- one more special than one he'd find on the floor. Although he laughed off my jokes, he promised it was just to lift Mercedes's spirit. "Just because it's Tuesday," he shrugged. He designed a big and bold set in his head, but after four months, I thought I knew Mercedes better.

I was scribbling his order down on a notepad. "How about lilies?" I objected; a go to that's not overused like roses. I would have given him options, but I didn't want to throw him into a world he didn't understand. "What should the card say?" After a long moment of silence, I looked up from the pad.

Tank looked at his watch. He had squeezed his visit in between activities for the church. He didn't have time to think of a message to send to his girlfriend. He asked me to write "something nice" for him and deliver the flowers to her office. He left a check plus a big tip for me.

I picked the brightest lilies, yellow, orange, and pink. If one flower sunk too far to the left, I couldn't use it. I refused to accept a petal out of place. I put a lot of time into that arrangement and thought into the card. I was going to give Mercedes the best… even though it was on the behalf of someone else.

Sadly, I had missed Mercedes. I had to leave the flowers with her receptionist. I didn't get to see the sparkle in her eyes like when she saw the arrangements my mom made.

Two days later, Mercedes stopped by the shop. She strolled in off the dark street right before closing. With her eyes locked on her phone, she dodged displays out of habit. She stopped just feet away from the counter, and her fingers began to move faster. Her face was flat with concentration.

"Tulips for a smile."

Mercedes's lips stretched, shoving her cheeks up. "No one will ever doubt that you're Mary's son," she swore. She finished the text to her needy client and powered off her phone: bold move. She threw the phone in her bag and gave me her attention. "Where's your mom?"

"My dad surprised her with a cruise." I had been running the shop alone. It wasn't really overwhelming. I spent most of the time watching out the window, hoping for a customer- one in particular.

With concern, she questioned, "Will you finish the order I placed before tomorrow afternoon?" Was she still wearing her 'planner' cap or was she asking as a friend? "I know it's a big job. The bride insisted on 40 bridesmaids, and I couldn't convince her otherwise."

I was going to do that after I closed. Doing the job alone, I could've been up all night, but when Mercedes offered to help, I didn't want to seem like I couldn't do it. "Go home and get some sleep," I declined.

She joked, "Sleep? I don't remember what that is." The event planner refused to abandon me with a heavy load.

I locked the door and led her to the back of the store. "As pretty as you look, you have to wear an apron." Forgetting that she was a grown woman that was capable of dressing herself, I slid the apron over her head. When she looked up at me, I froze. I scanned her face; her full lips, button nose, and her brown eyes that held me captive until she stepped back.

The supplies were already laid out, but the hardest part was teaching Mercedes the steps; at least she knew how to laugh at herself. We filled the long night with silly conversation. I told her about the weird adventures I had in New York, and she'd top me with crazy bridezilla stories.

She denied any accusation of her becoming an out of control bride. "My mom is a maniac. She'll make my wedding a giant production, but in the end, it won't matter because I'll be marrying the man of my dreams." She finished the bow and sat the bouquet to the side. When I returned from puting the flowers in the cooler, she asked me, "Do you know what kind of woman you'd want to marry?"

I didn't think about that a lot. I made up a short list of nice qualities, but my parents were a test for any decent human being. I joked, "If she can still love me after meeting the nutty tree I fell from, she's the one."

She softly shook her head. "Your parents are great." she argued. She was willing to fight me on that. She reached for the supplies to start a new bouquet. She wanted complete silence as she focused on getting it right. She celebrated when she finally got a set done on the first try. Instead of beginning again, she linked her fingers on top of the table. "Thank you for writing that note."

I wished that I was better at acting. I insisted that the flowers and message was all Tank. I thought that it would make Mercedes happier to think it was her boyfriend.

"For a woman with the resilience and sweet beauty of a lily..." she began to quote from her memory. She could recite every word. She swore that she had read that note hundreds of times in the two days she had it. Using the process of elimination, she realized the writer was me. "Tank wouldn't say that to me… not any more. He probably said 'send some pretty flowers and write a nice card.' " She softly chuckled, attempting to cover the admission with humor.

I was being worn down by those eyes of hers. I testified that more effort was made by Tank, but the card was from me. "I was just doing my job," I insisted. I hated that those words even came out of me. "But you are special, and he should tell you that more."

She took a deep breath and slowly let it out. She slid back in her seat, and her eyes shifted down. "Can we be honest with each other?"

We weren't before?

Mercedes began to explain to me that she and Tank met when they were rising music artists. She followed him from LA back to Nashville, but relocating wasn't the hardest change for her. "I signed a contract that his parents wrote up. I love him, so a sheet of paper should not stop that, right? His parents wanted so much out of us. I had a new wardrobe. I took elegant classes. I had to live by a schedule that gave me no time to enjoy life. They gave Tank a job in the church and helped me start my business. We were both told to give up our music careers." Her trance ended when the sweet melodies did.

I've heard of those agreements before. "Why don't you just break it?" I thought it was just a piece of paper thrown up in a closet. I didn't knew how deep it was.

"Under an NDA and thousands of dollars worth of fines, it's very legal." She was never supposed to tell anyone about the agreement, but she trusted me to keep the secret. "Yes, I have the money to buy my way out, but-" She paused, struggling to find a real reason why she didn't.

"It's easier," I finished. I slouched over the table watching her nod. "And there's some pride." I was spot on. I knew nothing more than pride; it was something that pumped in the Evans' blood. I took so much crap in New York because I wanted to walk away at my own time.

"It feels easier to bite my tongue and play by their rules for five more years." She was expected to give more than her boyfriend. "He tried to keep me happy with flowers and other gifts, but emotionally, I- We- He has a girlfriend," she spat out. A weight was lifted off of her, but she was shocked at how her life had turned out.

I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth; it looked better than letting my chin hit the table. Seeing how hard Mercedes worked as a planner, I thought she had full control of her personal life. I didn't like knowing how she was being taken advantage of. "But all the vacations were… what?" I had listened to plenty of people brag about that couple, so I wanted all of the truth while Mercedes was open.

"For the three of us, always private beaches, isolated villages, or some secluded place. They can be a happy couple, and I can have a break from work. I only saw Tank when we were taking pictures, and if we planned it right, we could cram a month's worth of pictures into three days."

My brain was frying. Maybe I was never meant to understand celebrities. "He's happy with someone else. Why won't he break the contract?" I moved the flowers to the side because I had stopped working a long time ago.

"It's all about an image. They want a pretty, professional, black girl that's dedicated to God just as much as she is to their son. She's not that, and I'm starting to question if I am either," she explained. She looked at me, and the sparkle returned to her eyes. "Every time I look at you, the thoughts that come into my mind would make those church ladies blush."

Or me.

For the first time, I was having trouble looking at Mercedes. I ran my hand through my hair. Silently, I tried to figure out a few of those 'thoughts' she was talking about.

She let out another humorless chuckle. "I must be really tired." She hurried to free herself from her apron and threw it on the back of her chair as she stood. "I'm sure you can do the rest without me. I should go," she said before stuttering out a goodbye. She snatched her bag as she rushed to the front.

I called out her name as I chased after her. I caught her by the strap of her handbag as it swung behind her. "Please don't go." I released her as she slowly began to turn. I could see her pout, even in the few dim lights of the showroom floor. "I didn't know what to say. I'm sorry for making it awkward for you."

"No, I did that." She brushed her hair back as she thought of a way to smooth over our relationship. "I really don't want to leave you with so many bouquets left. Can we, um, forget that I said any of that crazy stuff, have a friendly handshake, and get back to work?" She reached her hand out, but I couldn't take it.

I didn't want that. I wanted to be clear that I wanted to be more than her friend. I wanted to know what those 'thoughts' were and what she thought of me outside of them. I wanted to see her outside of my mom's little flower shop.

I leaned in to kiss her soft lips. Holding her close, I refused to let an inch come between us. My hands flowed over the lush trails of her body. My tongue tasted her; Oh, she tasted sweeter than peaches, and I could not get enough. I grumbled as Mercedes began to fight against my apron. As fast as possible, I snatched the dusty rag from over my neck, dropped it next to her bag on the floor, and pulled Mercedes back to me.

She let out a slow breath as I began to kiss her neck. "This is already better than I ever imagined," she admitted, and I heatedly agreed. After a minute, she managed to pry her body away from me. She slowly lowered herself to her knees and whispered, "Is this okay?"

Of course it was okay, but I just stared down at her. My brain was far ahead of me as I imagined how her pretty little face would look in a moment of sexual pleasure. I didn't realize the seconds that had passed until her eyes softened with shyness. "Yeah," I blurted, being jerked out of my daydreams. I opened my pants and kicked them off. There I stood, naked from the hips down, fully erect and throbbing to feel her heat.

Mercedes's tongue wet her lips before my manhood was welcomed between them. Her mouth stopped below my head. Her tongue swirled around and around, sending shivers up my spine. In time, she advanced. She bowed her head and sucked in more of my dick. With each successful bob, her head dropped further and further down. Her eyes shut tight as she worked me towards climax.

My back slacked against the wall. "Yes, Mercedes," I rasped. I tangled my fingers in her smooth hair, gently holding strands back. I tried not to thrust my dick down her throat, but she felt so good. "Just like that."

Her alluring bust danced across my thighs with every long sucking stroke. She moaned around my dick. Her lips were plump and slick with saliva. Only she could do something so pornographic and sloppy and still look beautiful.

After minutes, I could feel my lower half tighten. "I'm going to cum," I huffed. I called her name, warning her to stop, but she was too focused to listen. I couldn't release in her mouth; Mercedes was pure and loving, and my dick and what was coming out of it wasn't. Partly, I couldn't handle the surprise if she did swallow- not that day. I shoved her back, and beam after beam of my white seed landed on her chin and chest. My member pulsed until it was drained.

I joined Mercedes on the floor and passed her my apron to clean the sticky mess. "Sorry about your dress," I whispered after noticing the dark spots around her neckline. I reached for the bow at her side to open her dress- the dress that helped justify why green was my favorite color. I had good intentions, helping her clean up, but I was easily distracted by her even brown skin and her black lingerie. My fingers traced along her thigh, but I was quickly stopped.

With her hand resting over mine, she declared, "I can't." She glanced into my confused eyes before returning to cleaning herself. "I can't have sex with you. I mean, I hardly ever gave oral. I don't even know if I did it right." She looked up at me through her long eyelashes when I laughed.

"You did great," I promised. I respected her vows, but I couldn't let her go without letting her feel the same, or more, satisfaction that she gave me. I asked her to stand. I removed her panties and led her to the end of the counter. After sitting her on the countertop, I pulled her forward for a kiss.

My hand returned to her soft skin, traveling along the path of her inner thighs to her flower. My fingers slid between her petals. I circled, crossed and massaged her clit, feeling her grow wetter. My touch paused above her entrance. I wanted permission, fearing scaring her away.

"Yes," she breathed.

"Lie back," I directed. My mouth watered as I lifted and parted her legs. I lowered and began to taste the soft tender flesh. My tongue, flat and wide, passed against her dripping slit. I took my lover's juices into my mouth, tasting them and savoring the pure... Mercedes of it. After my lips wrapped around her clit, my finger slowly passed into her entrance. My tongue swirled, and my finger went deeper with each pump.

She wiggled her hips closer to me. "Oh, Sam, You feel- Oh." She could hardly finish a sentence without panting. "Please, please don't stop." Her moans grew louder as she squeezed her breast through the thin fabric of her bra.

For a second, only one, I thought what someone would think if they walked by the shop. They'd see Mercedes with her legs in the air and me between them. Everyone would hear about it. Gossips wouldn't be able to stop talking, but they could never say that she didn't enjoy it.

Every quiver of Mercedes's body and every broken gasp told the tale of her approaching orgasm. Her hips thrusted lightly with each chill that ran through her. She began to use the Lord's name in vain. If I wasn't holding one of her legs up and away from the other, I'm sure that I'd be trapped between her thighs with her heel buried into my back; that could have been great.

I continue to suck and finger Mercedes as she lay lost in her storm of ecstasy. I look up to watch her chest heave and her tits bounce as she gulps air into her lungs. When she ordered, I gave her slit one last kiss before reluctantly moving away. I licked my finger, still hungry for her honey taste.

She couldn't hide her small smirk as she rose and pulled me close. Her forehead rested on mine. She silently sat in the feeling of us.

What Now?

Mercedes Returned for a slow kiss. Maybe she didn't want to think past the moment, but I wanted an answer. At least she knew how to buy herself some time to think. When she pulled back, she searched my eyes for any inconsistencies or doubt. "If you're serious, I'll get out of the contract- I'll try." She knew getting free was going to be an uphill battle. "But if I break up with Tank, I will never be able to work in this town again."

"Then we can go." I would travel anywhere to be with her. Wherever we went, I knew I had to put more effort into succeeding.

"What are you going to do when you realize that I'm not perfect?" She warned, "I work a lot and don't always think to put others before that. Sometimes, I complain so much that it seems like nagging. I can't-" She was silenced as I reclaimed her lips.

There's more to a rose than it's pretty petals, and I wasn't scared of a few pricks.