Page 21 of All This Time (Blossom Peak #1)

Fletcher

Cake is Better Than Orgasms

Walking into Bites & Bliss Bakery is like getting smacked in the face with a cloud of sugar. I swear you can gain ten pounds just inhaling the air in here.

In fact, this place reminds me a lot of a bakery in Carrington Cove, this small town on the coast. My tattoo artist, Gage Kingston, lives there now and he’s friends with the owner of Smells Like Sugar, their local bakery that makes some of the best damn blueberry muffins I’ve ever had.

When I look outside to see if Laney has arrived yet, I’m met with disappointment, even though I know I’m early. But the last thing I wanted was to be late today and give Laney a reason to harden up around me again.

Last night was a fucking test of my restraint if there ever was one. I used to think that those nights I would lie in her bed, talking to her for hours and holding her while we fell asleep were the worst kind of torture.

But now, as a full-grown man having to be this close to her again? To have to act like we don’t have a history, to look directly into her eyes and hear her laugh for the first time in years?

Yeah, I can safely say I didn’t know what torture was back then.

And I won’t lie. Not seeing her much since I left Blossom Peak has made it easier to bury all those feelings, so I can’t fault her for doing the same.

If there’s one thing that’s become apparent since I’ve been back, though, it’s this: when you’ve been harboring feelings for your best friend’s little sister for over twelve years, it’s easier to pretend she doesn’t exist than have to face the fact that she actually does.

Yet, in less than a week, I’ve recalled every detail about the girl who captivated me as a teenager, and discovering who she is as an adult is only making me more interested.

I glance around the bakery while waiting for Laney to show up, taking in the changes since my last visit as people flood inside to place their orders for the day.

Display cases are filled with muffins, scones, and donuts, and several examples of custom cakes sit on a shelf behind the counter.

The walls are painted purple with swirls of white drawn throughout.

In fact, this whole store is covered in purple now, indicative of a complete remodel, which must have happened between now and the last time I was here.

“Oh my God! You’re Fletcher Adams!” A young boy to my right gains my attention as I join the line. All I’ve had this morning was a protein shake after my workout, so I need something else in my stomach before we taste cake.

Smiling, I lift my hat up a bit so I can see him better. I knew it was only a matter of time before I was recognized by someone again, and the kids are my favorite fans to meet.

“I am. What’s your name?”

“Collin,” he replies, practically vibrating with excitement.

I hold my hand out to shake his. “It’s nice to meet you, Collin.”

“You’re my favorite player. Whenever I play football at school, I always pretend I’m you.”

My smile grows. “Thank you. I’m honored.”

“Can I get your autograph?” he asks with tears in his eyes.

I remember being so emotional over meeting the players I looked up to when I was a kid.

Of course, I met most of them in a stadium or on a practice field as I followed my dad around during his career.

Still, I know what those moments meant to me, so when kids come up to me, I give them every ounce of attention I can.

“Of course.”

The boy’s mom comes up behind him. “Sorry, we weren’t prepared for this. I don’t have anything for you to sign.”

I look around the bakery and find a stack of napkins on the condiment station to my left. Taking a few, I find the marker in my pocket that I keep on me for moments like this, uncap it with my teeth, and begin scribbling my name on a few napkins as a line starts to form behind Collin and his mom.

“Well, well. Look at what the cat dragged in…”

My head lifts to find Carolina, the owner of the bakery and one of my favorite people in Blossom Peak, smirking at me with her hands on her hips.

“Good to see you, Carolina.”

“You’re holding up the line, Fletcher,” she teases me as I hand the napkin to Collin and his mom motions for us to pose for a picture.

“If you want to pour me a cup of coffee and put a breakfast croissant sandwich aside for me, I would really appreciate it.”

Her laughter rings out. “Sure thing, Mr. Famous.”

Multiple families wait their turn for a few minutes with me, and even more show up as customers start texting their friends about my location. I smile and chat with kids and their families for a good thirty minutes before the crowd seems to start dwindling.

And for just a second, I remember that this is one of my favorite parts of the job—being a role model, someone that young kids can look up to and realize that hard work can truly pay off.

These are the moments that help me forget all the shitty ones I had to endure to get here.

Once the line dies down and the last person leaves, Carolina locks the door behind the last customer, leaving the two of us alone. She hands me my coffee and sandwich, which I proceed to inhale in just a few bites.

“You didn’t have to do that,” I tell her as I finally make my way to the cash register to pay, even though the silence is welcoming.

She waves me off when I try to hand her my credit card. “Your money is no good here.”

I scowl at her. “Come on, Carolina. Let me pay.”

“Nope. You just doubled my profit from yesterday with the crowd you brought in, so we’ll call it even.

” I stick my tongue out at her as I place a hundred dollar bill in the tip jar just to spite her.

She laughs. “So, what brings you to town, Fletcher? If memory serves me correctly, it’s been years… ”

“Almost three, but who’s counting?” She arches a brow at me, waiting for me to explain. “I’m here for Elliot’s wedding, actually.”

“Ah, that’s right. The boys must be happy to see you.”

Carolina has owned this bakery since Henley, Elliot, Rhonan, and I were in high school.

We used to ride our bikes down here every Sunday morning to get donuts before going to the park to toss the football around.

She’s followed my career from the beginning, and I always appreciate seeing her when I visit.

“They are.”

“How long are you in town for?”

“About three weeks. Training camp starts shortly after the wedding, so I’ll be heading back to Charlotte.” The sound of someone trying to open the door pulls my attention behind me, only to find Laney angrily yanking on the handle. I try not to laugh as I say, “Uh, Laney’s here.”

“Perfect.” Carolina moves toward the door, unlocking it so Laney can step inside. The sunlight hits her face when she turns to face me, highlighting her green eyes and glossy lips.

Fuck, she’s so damn gorgeous.

“Good morning, Laney,” Carolina says as she moves back to the counter.

“You lock the door now?” Laney pushes her hair from her face before meeting my eyes.

“It was my fault. A little kid asked me for an autograph and picture, and then a crowd started forming.”

Laney shakes her head at me, but there’s a hint of a smile on her lips. “Always causing trouble wherever you go, huh?”

I lean close to her. “You have no idea how much trouble I can cause, angel.”

Her throat bobs as she swallows roughly, her eyes darting down to my lips for only a second, but I catch it before she moves away from me and heads closer to Carolina. “Okay then. Are we ready to taste some cake and get this over with?”

“You act like eating cake this early in the morning is a hardship.”

Carolina laughs. “For some people, it is, but to answer your question, Laney… Yes, I’m ready for you. I planned on leaving the door locked while you’re here though, just to give you some privacy.”

“You don’t have to do that, Carolina. I’m used to the attention,” I interject, shoving my hands into my pockets. “And I don’t want to cost you customers.”

“Nonsense. It gives me a break too.” She motions for us to take a seat at one of the tables. “I’ll be right there with everything.”

Laney heads for the table, but I pull her chair out for her before she can sit down. “Thank you,” she says as she sits.

“And that’s number six.”

“God, you’re infuriating,” she mumbles, checking her phone before placing it in her purse and hanging it on the back of her chair.

“Infuriating but hot, right?”

Her eyes meet mine, but dart away after only one second. “I’m not even going to comment on that.”

Before I can give her shit about her lack of response, Carolina comes out from the back of the bakery with a notebook in hand.

“Okay, let’s get started.” She flips the paper over on her notebook, scribbling something at the top of the blank page.

“So, y’all are here to pick out your wedding cake, right? ”

“Oh, no. The cake’s not for us,” Laney corrects her immediately.

Carolina winks at me, and that’s when I realize what she’s doing. “What? You’re kidding. When you called to schedule a cake tasting for you and Fletcher, I thought you two had finally figured out that you belong together?”

Laney’s eyes bug out so much that I have to twist my face away from her to cover up my smile. “You thought Fletcher and I…”

“Oh, heck yes. You two might have thought you concealed your crush on each other well, but I’ve been around a heck of a lot longer than you kids. Trust me, I know love when I see it.”

Laney clears her throat, but her cheeks are pink now and she’s practically squirming in her seat. “Well, uh…sorry to burst your bubble, but the cake is for Elliot and his fiancée. We’re the maid of honor and best man, and they asked us to do this for them since they’re both extremely busy.”

Crossing my arms over my chest, I lean back in my chair. “Had to make sure to clear that up, didn’t you?”

The glare I get from her could slice right through my nipples. “Well, it’s the truth.”

Carolina looks at me. “Oh dear. I just assumed, but clearly I’ve misread the situation.”

“What?” Laney asks.