Page 20 of All This Time (Blossom Peak #1)

Fletcher’s brows draw together. “If she has work friends, why didn’t she ask one of them to be her maid of honor?”

“She said they’re not that type of friend, whatever the hell that means.”

“Well, it doesn’t surprise me that you agreed to do this for her. That’s who you are.”

I glance over at him. “And who is that exactly?”

“Someone who steps up for people when they need them.”

My cheeks grow hot as I look away from him, but my heart twists in my chest. “Everyone needs a friend sometimes.”

“Exactly,” he says, reaching for my hand again. “And you can talk to me if this gets to be too much for you, okay?”

Confusion floods my mind. “Why would this be too much for me?”

“Because of what happened with your ex.”

I feel the blood drain from my face before my dread turns to anger. “What about my ex?”

Fletcher leans back in his chair, releasing my hand and blowing out a breath, hesitant to answer me. “Your brother and Henley told me what happened…with the engagement.”

Grinding my teeth together, I stand from my chair and walk into the kitchen. “Of course they did.”

“Look, don’t be upset…”

“Don’t tell me what I’m allowed to feel,” I fire back as he stands from his chair, the sincerity in his gaze being replaced with determination as he walks toward me.

“I’m not telling you what you’re allowed to feel, Laney. But if this wedding shit gets to be too much for you, given how your engagement ended—”

“I’m fine,” I say, cutting him off.

Fletcher huffs out a laugh. “Yeah, that’s what they said you’d say.”

“Because it’s the truth!”

And I’m not lying. The sad part is that what happened with Fletcher devastated me ten times more than what happened between me and Spencer.

“Then why are you yelling?”

“I’m not yelling!”

“You’re definitely raising your voice.”

“Because this isn’t any of your business and they had no right to tell you!”

He tilts his head at me. “Well, they did. And you know what? I’m glad they did.”

“Why?”

“So I can tell you this…”

His feet carry him across the kitchen until he’s so close that I have no choice but to back up until my ass hits the counter behind me. His body closes me in as he lifts one hand to rest on the cabinets above me, and his other hand comes up to cup my jaw.

I’m frozen as my heart beats a mile a minute, his scent infiltrating my nose and transporting me back to the last time I was in this position with him, our mouths so close that all it would take is one of us throwing caution to the wind and moving forward just an inch so that our lips touch.

Fletcher lowers his voice, but his words still hit every nerve ending in my body.

“Any man that puts a ring on your finger but doesn’t honor that commitment is a fucking coward, and he sure as hell doesn’t deserve you.

” My breath grows shallow as his eyes dance across my face.

“Any man foolish enough to cheat on you deserves to have every one of his limbs ripped from his body.” He pulls my bottom lip down with his thumb as I hold my breath.

“And any man that can’t appreciate the incredible, selfless, intelligent, tenacious, and fucking gorgeous woman that you are will be kicking himself when the next guy comes along and treats you like you’re the best fucking thing that ever happened to him—because that’s what you deserve, Laney Maddison Hart. ”

Oh. My. God.

My voice is shaky when I finally speak. “You—you shouldn’t have said any of that, Fletcher…”

“Well I did, so what are you going to do about it?” Our eyes bounce back and forth between each other, but I don’t have a response.

All I can think about right now is how close he is, how amazing he smells, and how badly I want to taste his lips.

“Your ex was a fucking idiot, and if I ever run into him, he’s gonna know how badly he fucked up by not choosing you. ”

“Are you—” But I don’t get a chance to finish because he keeps talking.

“But the part that kills me is, I think I understand why you’re so guarded now.”

“I’m not—”

“Yes, you fucking are. But I want you to remember…” His words trail off as one of his fingers slowly glides down my neck. “You don’t have to be that way with me.”

Little does he know that my walls are even more important when I’m around him. But after that little speech, they’re already starting to crumble.

“Thank you,” I say because anything else doesn’t feel right. I could snap at him again, tell him to back away, and stop talking to me as if he still knows me, but that wouldn’t reflect how I really feel—seen.

Fletcher truly sees me for who I am and all I have to offer someone.

The corner of his mouth lifts as he toys with my bottom lip again before dropping his arms and taking a step back from me. “That’s four thank-yous, by the way.”

Rolling my eyes, I move around him and head back to the table, fixing my hair and straightening my clothes on the way. “And you just ruined the moment.”

“As long as I made my point, that’s all I care about.”

Oh your point was very clear.

But did he say those things just to be nice, to not make me feel bad? Or were they genuine?

I’m not sure which option is worse.

“Let’s just get this done.” Sighing, I pull the opening apart on one of the organza bags, desperate to move past what just happened in the kitchen. But while tipping the bag of M&M’s into the bag with my other hand, I end up spilling them all over the table. “Shit.”

“Why don’t I hold the bags open and then you pour? That way it goes faster.”

“Sure.”

“See? This is why there’s two of us.” He grins at me and then moves his seat even closer to me than he already was.

I can feel my nipples tighten beneath my bra and curse my body’s reaction to him. Clearing my throat, I opt to change the subject. “Anyway, how does it feel being back in Blossom Peak? Have you seen your dad?” As soon as the words leave my lips, I regret them.

I can see Fletcher’s entire body tighten from the corner of my eye. “I have. I ran into him at Blossom Brews actually.”

“Really? How—how was it?”

“Same shit, different day,” he answers bluntly, continuing to fill the bags as I open up each new one. “But he didn’t exactly know I was coming to town, so I caught him off guard, which pissed him off.”

“Are you going to be all right with him coming to the wedding?”

He grunts. “Yeah, I’ll be fine, Laney. I’ll tell you this though, it sure was nice to see your dad the other night.”

My lips instantly curl into a smile at the mention of my father. Fletcher empties one of the bags of M&M’s and then reaches for a new one, tearing off the corner with his teeth again.

God, why is that so hot?

“Yeah, he’s doing well, and he sure does love those movie nights we do at the winery.”

“I can tell, although he spent most of the time at the popcorn cart, making sure it was working.”

Sighing, I open up another bag and watch him fill it up before pulling the strings together and tying them. “I keep telling him we need to buy a new one, but he doesn’t want to replace it yet.”

“Why not?”

“Because that’s the one my mom bought,” I answer.

Fletcher nods in understanding. “I see.”

“Anyway, other than that, the events have been doing well, and I help out with them as much as I can.”

“You’re always fucking helping people, Laney,” he says, pulling my attention back to him. “Your dad, Rhonan, Elliot…”

“Yeah, so…”

“Let me ask you something.”

“Okay…”

“When’s the last time you let someone help you?” Just as the words leave Fletcher’s mouth, his hand covers mine, gently removing the organza bag from my fingers.

“Fletcher…” My throat grows tight because I’m startled by his observation.

Luckily, my glucose monitor app goes off before either of us can say anything else.

But it’s not just my phone that goes off. Fletcher’s also chimes from inside his pocket. He takes it out and looks at his screen. “Your blood sugar is too high. You need insulin.”

“Uh, how do you know that?” He flashes the screen to me where I see an account he’s made on the same app that I use. “What the…how did you…” I launch myself up from the table. “What in the actual hell, Fletcher?”

He stands up just as fast. “Can you please just give yourself insulin, Laney, so you don’t start getting loopy on me?”

“When the heck did you add yourself to my app?”

“While I was at your salon yesterday. You left your phone on your station when you went to grab a banana.”

I cross my arms over my chest. “Wow. So you just took it upon yourself to…” I can’t even finish the sentence because my thoughts are spinning. “You—you have no right to—”

He presses a finger to my lips, silencing me. “I know I don’t. You’re right about that. But while I’m here, while we’re spending time together, I need to know that you’re taking care of yourself. Call it an old habit, but…”

I’m speechless, truly and utterly speechless. How the hell does he think that what he did was okay?

But more importantly, why is it making me want to cry?

Why does it make me feel seen and cared for?

And why do I like that so much?

“You know I can just delete you from my account, right?”

“I do. But I’ll just sign up again.”

Shaking my head at him, I reply, “I’ve never wanted to punch you more than I do right now.”

“Maybe you should do it just to see if it makes you feel better. Or, how about telling me why you started calling me Lucifer so I can fix it?”

“It’s not something that can be fixed,” I answer honestly.

“Let me be the judge of that.”

We stand there, in a silent standoff, waiting to see who will make a move first. But then the app chimes at me again.

Before he can say something else, I spin away from him and walk to the bathroom to administer the insulin through my pump in private. When I look at myself in the mirror, I almost don’t recognize the girl staring back at me.

My eyes are wild, my face flushed from anger, but my lips? I reach up and touch them—because feeling Fletcher’s finger on them earlier and again just now has them tingling in desperation for more of his touch.

Sighing, I take a few deep breaths, trying to get my blood pressure under control before I walk back out to face him. When I exit the bathroom, I find Fletcher pacing the living room, running his hand through his hair.

But I don’t say a word. I take my seat again at the table and hold out an organza bag toward him. “Let’s just finish this.”

Clearing his throat, he nods and then takes his seat back at the table, holding the bag open as I begin to fill it up with the candy. We sit in silence as we go through the motions, filling one bag after another. I can feel his eyes on me the entire time, but I don’t look at him once.

I’m too angry, too anxious, and there’s something else that I’m feeling—hope.

It’s that hope that him acting completely out of line is a sign that he still cares about me, even though I shouldn’t hope for that.

But why else would he do such a thing? Is it just friendly? Or does he have another reason?

When we fill the last bag, I begin to place them in the cardboard box.

“Sure you don’t want to tackle something else while I’m here?” Fletcher asks from beside me.

“I think this was enough for tonight.”

“Then what’s on the agenda for tomorrow?”

“Why do we need to do anything tomorrow?”

“Uh, because tomorrow’s Wednesday, and in case you forgot, we have a party next Saturday we need to plan. Not to mention, if we’re going to order a cake, we need to do that as soon as possible.”

I glance over at him and sigh. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“Damn, hearing that from you just made my day.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “Don’t get used to it.” Lifting the box of favors, I take them back to my spare room and place them inside so they’re safe and out of the way. But when I turn to leave, Fletcher is standing right in the doorway. “Excuse me,” I say, motioning for him to move.

But he just stands there, staring at me, a crooked smile on his lips. “I’m going to get you to admit we’re still friends before this wedding is over, Laney.”

“Ha. Friends is a strong term, Fletcher. Let’s just agree to be civil while we handle this wedding crap, and then we can both go back to our separate lives.” I move to walk by him, but he shifts to block me inside. “Come on, Fletcher.”

He lifts his hand and moves to tuck my hair behind my ear, his soft touch sending shockwaves across my skin. “You come on, Laney. There was a time where we talked about everything, where you were the person I looked forward to seeing the most—a time when you were my friend.”

“Well, a lot has changed since then.”

His thumb caresses my jaw as his fingers trail down my neck. I can hear my heart racing in my ears. “Oh, I’m aware. But how we used to be? That’s something that I’ll never regret.”

Any words I had ready to say back to him die on my tongue.

Instead, I wait for him to move aside and then walk past him and head straight for the front door, eager for him to leave.

The push and pull between us tonight was far more intense than I anticipated, and what I need right now is space to process it all.

“I guess I’ll be going then.” Fletcher appears from the hallway to find me at the door, my hand on the knob.

“Yeah. It’s time.”

When there’s only a fraction of space between us, he shoves his hands in his pockets. “So, what time should we meet at the bakery tomorrow?”

“My first client is at eleven, so I can meet before that. How’s ten?”

“Sounds good.”

When I open the door, he stares at me for a few moments before walking through. And even though I want to hang on to my icy demeanor, I can’t let him leave without saying one last thing.

“Fletcher?”

He turns to face me as he’s halfway down the driveway. “Yeah?”

“Thank you,” I state softly.

The corner of his mouth lifts. “For helping? I thought that was the point.”

I shake my head. “Not just that.” With a deep inhale, I say, “Thank you for supporting my salon yesterday.”

His face softens as his lips spread wider. “My pleasure, Laney. You should be proud of what you’ve created.”

“I am.”

“And now my thank-yous are up to five.”

I roll my eyes at him. “You’re ridiculous.”

He laughs. “Have a good night, Laney.”

“You too, Fletcher.”

And then he hops in his truck and drives away, leaving me standing there, feeling the ice around my heart I’ve grown so used to beginning to melt away.