Page 36 of All This Time (Blossom Peak #1)

Laney

A Run-In and a Haircut

“You got it, Laney,” Justin says as he finishes scribbling down my order for the party.

“Do you think that will be enough?”

“I mean, you are feeding Henley, Rhonan, Elliot, and Fletcher, plus more. But you’ve ordered enough food for a small army, so I think you’ll be all right,” he teases.

“Okay.” I sigh in relief and hand him my credit card. Blossom Brews only has a few customers right now because they just opened.

It’s Thursday morning and I left the salon to come over here and place the order for the food for the bachelor and bachelorette party on Saturday.

“Do you ever eat at home?”

Dilynne’s voice makes me jump. My hand flies to the center of my chest as she takes a seat at the stool next to where I’m standing at the bar. “Jesus Christ! You scared the shit out of me.”

Laughing, she pulls her phone from her pocket, checks it briefly, and then slides it back into place. “Well, I hope you have an extra pair of pants on you, then.”

Rolling my eyes, I inhale deeply, trying to get my heart rate back under control. “To answer your question, yes, I eat at home. I’m here to order the food for Saturday.”

Dilynne nods in understanding. “Nice. The boys will like that.”

“That’s what Fletcher and I thought.”

“Speaking of Lucifer, how are things going there? Any more magical spells from the talented man?” she asks, using her euphemism for orgasm that she thought was clever, so I humored her.

“Oh, um…” I can feel my cheeks turning pink. “Yes, there have been a few.”

“And are you enjoying yourself?”

Tucking my hair behind my ear, I say, “Immensely.”

Dilynne slaps me on the back a little too forcefully. “I’m proud of you. How does it feel taking what you need and not worrying about the implications?”

I wish I could say that I’ve been able to do that, but the truth of the matter is that last night when Fletcher was at my house, I felt way too many feelings.

His gesture of bringing me my favorite pizza and that cake from the bakery, his comment about me finishing my degree, and then him admitting that he hasn’t touched alcohol since he was drafted brought up way too many emotions.

The orgasms he gave me before he left helped remind me of what we agreed to, but I think I was na?ve to think that I would be able to shut off everything that man makes me feel.

“Well, I definitely don’t feel as tense.”

Dilynne laughs. “Yeah, that’s what a few orgasms will do for you. So, you guys have everything ready for the party? Not gonna lie, I’m dreading it a little bit.”

“Why?” She gives me a flat look because I should already know the answer. Choosing to redirect, I say, “Anyway…I’m in charge of food and games. We’re doing a Vegas theme with blackjack and poker tables, but I feel like that’s more for the guys. The women need something too, you know?”

Dilynne taps her chin in thought before her whole face lights up. “Oh my God. I have a brilliant idea!”

“Really? What?”

Rubbing her palms together, she shakes her head at me. “Nope, I want this one to be a surprise.”

“Dear God. That means it’s probably going to make me question our friendship, doesn’t it?”

She nods slowly. “Yup, but I guarantee the girls will get a kick out of it.”

I press the heel of my hand to my forehead. “I don’t know whether to just let this happen or fight it.”

“Even if you fight me, you know you won’t win.”

“This is true.” The sound of my glucose monitoring app interrupts our conversation. My blood sugar is low, so I need to eat something. But within a matter of seconds, my phone dings with a text.

Fletcher: You’d better be reaching for food as I type this.

Rolling my eyes, I pick up my phone to text him back.

“Who’re you talking to?” Dilynne asks.

“It’s Fletcher. Remember how I said he added himself to my account to get notified about my blood sugar?”

Dilynne chuckles. “Jesus. You sure Fletcher agreed to just orgasms?”

I ignore her insinuation and text him back.

Me: I have a muffin waiting for me in the car.

Fletcher: I wish I was eating your muffin right now.

“Oh my God.”

“What?” Dilynne turns her head to read my text, her lips scrunching up as she does. “Aw, come on, Adams. You can do better than that.”

I turn my back to her to type my response.

Me: Dilynne says you can do better than that.

Fletcher: So Dilynne knows about us?

Me: She does. She was asking about what happened at the bar, so I told her. She is my best friend, you know…

Fletcher: It’s fine. But I have a request for you…

Me: Okay.

Fletcher: Next time I see you, you’d better not be wearing any underwear. That way I can taste you even faster.

Dilynne smacks the counter beside me. “Hot damn! Now that was much better, Adams.” She slow claps. “Much better.”

“You were still reading my texts?” I say, pulling my phone against my chest while my body hums from Fletcher’s words.

“Girl, I could have stripped down until I was butt-ass naked and you probably wouldn’t have noticed with how engrossed you were in your phone just now.”

I roll my eyes just as Justin comes back over with my receipt, sliding it across the bar for me to sign. I do so, then slide it back to him, grateful for the distraction from Fletcher’s words and my best friend’s over exaggeration.

“Here’s your order, Dilynne.” He places a paper bag on the counter in front of her.

“Thanks.”

“And you were giving me shit about not eating at home,” I mutter to her out of the corner of my mouth. She sticks her tongue out at me.

Justin moves my copy of the order receipt to me. “Okay, everything is set for Saturday. Delivery will be at seven, as requested.”

“You’re the best, Justin. Thanks again for doing this on such short notice.”

“My pleasure. Anything for you,” he says, smiling. “Our dads were great friends, and I know he’d want me to make sure that we keep that tradition.” Justin’s dad passed away a few years ago, so he knows what it feels like to lose a parent, something we’ve bonded over since then.

I reach across the bar and place my hand on top of his. “I think our dads would too.” He walks off just as Dilynne hums beside me. “What?”

She stands from her seat, grabbing the handles on her bag of food. “Perhaps when this thing with Fletcher is over, you could give Justin a call.”

“Come again?”

Bopping me on the nose, she avoids answering me. “I’ve got to get back to the garage. Call me later if you need me.”

I watch her leave and before I can do the same, a familiar voice calls to me from my back. “Laney?”

Spinning my head in that direction, my body instantly goes on high alert when I see who it is.

“Mr. Adams,” I say, my stomach turning. I haven’t seen Fletcher’s dad in ages, mostly by design. Just being near him reminds me of what he did to Fletcher, and that memory alone makes me sick.

“Long time no see.”

“Yes, it has been a while,” I say as the smell of alcohol on his breath hits me.

“I take it you’ve seen my son since he arrived in town?”

“I have,” I reply, silently wondering why he would bring Fletcher up. Did he see us together? Does he know that I know about their past?

“Funny how he couldn’t even be bothered to tell his old man he was coming home, huh?”

“Well, it’s only for the wedding,” I say, hoping to remain as neutral as possible.

He nods. “Oh yes, Elliot’s wedding. Glad to be invited,” he says, the disdain in his voice dissipating. “Can’t deny I’m surprised by how quickly the whole thing transpired, but…” Shrugging, he doesn’t finish his thought.

“They’re in love. When people feel that way, sometimes they don’t want to wait to get married.”

Luke scoffs. “Well, if my son knows what’s good for him, he’ll avoid the mess of marriage.”

My pulse spikes. “Why do you say that?”

“Well, after what happened with me and his mom, and how dedicated he is to football, he’d be smart never to let a woman get in the way.”

Fear builds in my chest, even though it shouldn’t. Fletcher’s future isn’t my concern, but I can’t deny that Luke strikes a chord because I’ve heard his son say himself that he’s not interested in that kind of life.

But listening to Fletcher’s dad right now—the snark in his voice, the resentment and animosity—it makes me wonder if he’ll ever be able to let go of the past. Can any of us, really?

Are you wondering about Luke, Fletcher, or yourself?

Choking down my emotions, I take a step back from him and prepare to leave. “It was good to see you, Mr. Adams.”

He reaches for the beer Justin just poured him, lifting it to his lips before saying, “You too, Laney. See you next week at the wedding.”

As I leave the restaurant and return to the salon, a heaviness comes over me. I shouldn’t be so affected by the words Luke spat, but I can’t deny that they did make me stew on the situation I’m in with his son for the thousandth time.

Just focus on you, Laney. That’s what you’re trying to do now, right? You don’t have to help everyone.

But what if there are some people you can’t help but want to be there for, even if you know you’re only going to get hurt in the end?

***

It’s just after seven when my last client leaves and I lock the salon door behind her.

All my employees left hours ago, but now that my workday is over, I can get a few business things done without any distractions or people in the way.

So, color me surprised when I get a text from Fletcher while sitting at my desk in my office.

Fletcher: Laney, open up.

Me: I’m not at home.

Fletcher: I know. I’m at the salon.

Confused, I head to the front door and see Fletcher standing there, craning his neck back and forth as if it’s bothering him.

“What are you doing here, Fletcher?” I ask curiously, cracking the door just enough to talk through it.

“Can I come in?”

“Um, we’re closed.”

“Come on. It’s me, Laney.”

I momentarily contemplate standing firm in my need to put a bit of distance between us, but when I take in his appearance, I decide against it.