Page 24 of All This Time (Blossom Peak #1)

Laney

Rods, Feelings, and a Charming Bull

“Hey, Steven. Where’s Dilynne?”

Steven, one of the mechanics at Clark Customs & Auto Repair, rubs his hand on a rag as he jerks his chin toward the back of the shop. “She’s head-down in an engine, just the way she likes it.” He sticks his tongue in his cheek, fighting back his grin.

“God, Steven. Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?”

He points a finger at me. “My mom thinks I’m a saint, and that’s exactly the way we’re going to keep it, you got it?”

Placing my hands on my hips, I tilt my head at him. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s time I let her know how filthy her son really is.”

“Snitches get stitches, Laney.” He shrugs. “Don’t forget that.”

Laughing, I round the counter and pull him in for a hug. “It’s good to see you.”

“You too. What brings you in?”

I step back and push my hair from my face. “Girl stuff. I kinda need to talk to my best friend, and it can’t wait.”

Steven picks up a pen from the counter and starts scribbling something on the paper in front of him. “You know how she gets when she’s close to finishing a project. I’m pretty sure she slept here last night.”

“That’s what I figured when there weren’t any lights on at her house.

” After trying to call her three times with no answer, I peeked through the blinds in the window of my house that faces hers, and found hers pitch black.

Hence why I’m here on my lunch hour to get the advice I’m in desperate need of.

“Excuse me?” A voice behind me makes me jump. When I turn and find a customer who just walked in, I slide out of the way so Steven can assist her.

He morphs from a dirty-minded jokester into the professional that he is right before my eyes. “Welcome to Clark Customs & Auto Repair. How can I help you?”

A short, blonde woman in a pink sundress walks up closer to the counter, clutching her purse at her side. “I was interested in getting my brakes checked. They’re squeaking something awful and I don’t want to drive home after my trip if something is wrong.”

“We can definitely take a look. Most of the time, the noise is just dirt that’s gotten in between the brake pads, but if not, we’ll assess for any other issues.”

She covers her chest with her palm, sighing in relief. “Thank you. I swear, one of my worst fears is getting in a car accident because of something that was totally preventable, you know?”

“I agree.” Steven pulls out an invoice from under the counter. “Let me just get your information.”

But before the woman replies, she turns to face me and her eyes widen. “Oh my goodness. You work at the salon, don’t you?”

“I do.”

“Can I just say that the facial I had there the other day was the best I’ve ever had?”

Smiling, I reply, “Happy to hear that. Are you just visiting Blossom Peak?”

“I am.” She begins to fiddle with her necklace, catching my eye, especially as recognition dawns on me.

“Oh my gosh. Your necklace,” I say, reaching out to touch it but stopping myself. “My—my mom used to have one just like it.”

The lady pulls it out in front of her to peek down at it. “I love pink diamonds.”

“She did too.” Goosebumps spread down my arms as my eyes stay fixated on the woman’s jewelry. “She—she died twelve years ago.”

The woman frowns and reaches out to stroke my arm. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you.” I keep staring at the woman as I fight back tears, finding myself apologizing quickly. “Sorry. I’m—I’m just having a moment.”

“Take all the time you need. Grief can hit you when you least expect it.”

I nod, but don’t say anything else as I regain my composure.

Steven clears his throat, gaining the woman’s attention. “If you have your driver’s license, that would help me create a customer profile for you.”

“Oh, absolutely.” The woman digs through her purse for her wallet but glances over at me again. “Are you going to be okay?”

“Yeah. I’m good. Thanks for being so…” The word I’m looking for dies on my tongue.

Luckily, the woman squeezes my hand, giving me the emotional support that I need in that moment. “Anytime.”

Shaking off the sensitive moment, I walk past Steven, down the hall of the office space, and into the garage, looking between the bays to find my best friend.

“Steven, I need that tie rod over here, please!” Dilynne calls out as I make my way toward her, and Steven appears out of nowhere, hot on my heels.

“I thought you were helping that lady. That was quick,” I say as I glance back at the front office and find it empty.

“I got her info, but I knew Dilynne was waiting on me, so I told her I’d be right back.” He glances over at me, grinning. “Isn’t this car sick?”

“What car is it?”

“A 1968 Cadillac Coupe de Ville, 62 series. Dilynne’s gonna show it off next month and make all the men in the room walk around with hard-ons for the rest of the day.”

Dilynne slides out from under the classic car she’s working on, spinning on her rolling board to face us.

Steven and I both stare down at her. “You know, you’re lucky I’m a cool boss because that kind of talk wouldn’t fly everywhere.

” She holds out her hand, waiting for Steven to hand her the rod he was speaking of, I assume.

Dilynne may be my best friend, and I may have listened to her drone on and on about cars over the years, but I still have no clue what the hell any of this is. “And you’re lucky I know your wife.”

“My hot as fuck wife,” he corrects her. “Don’t forget that part.”

“Of course. How could I forget?”

“How is Chelsea doing by the way?” I ask him as I run my hand along the body of the car Dilynne is working on.

“Getting hotter by the day.”

Dilynne kicks his shoe as she takes the rod and sets it on top of her stomach.

Luckily, she wears Carhartt coveralls anytime she’s working in the garage, so the grease tends to only end up on those, and not everywhere else.

“Now, if you’ll excuse us, Laney and I have some important business to discuss. ”

“Business about wieners and smut?”

“Always,” I tease him.

“Hell yeah!” Steven fist pumps the air as he heads back to the office.

I point my thumb in the direction he just went. “Does he ever not say something that’s laced with innuendo?”

“Nope,” Dilynne answers frankly before brushing her forearm against her forehead.

Her red bandana slides back a bit, but she pulls it back into place to keep her hair out of her face while she works.

“So, what’s up?” She rolls the board back under the fender well of the car, but I know she’s listening.

You’d be amazed at how many conversations we’ve had like this.

Sighing, I say, “It’s Fletcher.”

“Yeah, I assumed as much. Fill me in. What’s happened since Saturday?”

I’ve only given Dilynne bits and pieces of what the past few days have been like.

“So, you know how he scheduled appointments at the salon?”

“Yeah…”

“Well, he found out that I call him Lucifer and keep a swear jar for anyone who says his name.”

Dilynne snorts. “Let me guess, Glenn let it slip?”

“Yes, and speaking of my employees, why didn’t you tell me that you invited them out with us on Friday?”

She slides toward me just far enough that I can see her face, pointing a wrench up at me. “Because I knew you’d back out if I did. And this way, I have peer pressure to keep you from canceling.”

I glare at her. “I really hate you sometimes.”

“No you don’t. Now, continue. How was he while he was at the salon?”

“He was…fine.” Fine is putting it lightly.

Everyone fell in love with him, he tipped the entire staff very generously, even those that didn’t assist him, and the image of him ripping off his shirt in front of me has been burned into my brain for all eternity.

Not to mention, Glenn pinned his signed April calendar page up next to his station so he can brag about it to all his clients.

“Nope.” She waves a finger at me from under the car. “That’s what you said when I texted you. Now spill.”

Sighing, I cross my arms around my waist and give my best friend the Cliff Notes version, but only the things that irritated me.

“Well, he took his shirt off in front of everyone, admitted that he only made the appointments because he was trying to support my business, and then programmed his contact information into my glucose monitoring app so he gets alerts now when my sugar is out of whack.”

Dilynne slowly rolls out from under the car and sits up on the board, blinking a few times. “Holy shit.”

“Right? And then when he came to my house the next night to fill favors, I was trying to be cool, pretend like things between us were normal because it actually really did mean a lot that he came into the salon. But then I found out that my brother and Henley told him about Spencer—the whole story.”

Dilynne rolls her eyes. “I swear, those boys gossip worse than teenage girls.”

“Seriously… And Fletcher insisted that if I felt like being Tori’s maid of honor was too much, to let him know. So I assured him that I’m fine, and he doesn’t need to worry about me.”

She arches a brow. “And what was his response to that?”

“Umm…” I can feel my cheeks grow hot from the memory of Fletcher pressing me up against the kitchen counter and the words he said in that deep timbre of his voice. “He basically told me that Spencer was an idiot, and he’d like to rip his limbs from his body.”

Dilynne’s eyes bug out as she stands, looking me in the eyes. “Holy shit. Laney…”

I throw my hands in the air. “I know!”

“He really said that?”

“Yes, but what the hell am I supposed to do with that information? I mean, shit, Dilynne…” I begin to pace. “What he said, how close he was to me, the way he toyed with my bottom lip…”

Dilynne visibly shudders. “Damn, that’s hot.”

I freeze and lower my voice. “It was one of the hottest moments of my life.”

She studies me for a moment, tapping her wrench on her palm. “What happened after that?”

“We finished filling the favors, and then he went home.”