Page 4 of All This Time (Blossom Peak #1)

Laney

Control, Wine, and Responsibilities

“Honey, I’m home!” Dilynne calls as she walks into my house right after six, just as I’m popping the cork on the bottle of wine I’ve been dreaming about since Yvonne brought up Blossom Peak’s impending visitor earlier.

“Nothing like the smell of rubber and grease to let me know you’re here.” I hold out a glass of wine to her as she kicks off her boots and heads toward the kitchen.

Dilynne Clark and I have been best friends since middle school when she and her brother Henley, one of Rhonan’s other best friends, got placed in a foster home in Blossom Peak.

She was sassy and spirited, unapologetically confident, and she sat down in front of me in math class one day, asked me what my name was, and the rest was history.

A few years ago, we moved into two brand new houses built right next door to each other. Even though I love my best friend dearly, living with her would be a disaster. But living close? Perfect. We trade off dinner and wine nights a few times a week, keeping each other sane in this small town.

Part of me dreads the day that either one of us finds a man because we won’t have these nights as frequently. Though, after the past few years of our combined dating history, or lack thereof, I’m beginning to think that won’t be a problem.

“You know you love it. Hell, the smell doesn’t even faze me anymore.”

“Perks of owning an automotive shop.”

“Exactly. And I know you feel the same way about hair dye.”

“I do.” We clink glasses and then both take a sip. “How was your day?”

“Oh, same as always. Oil changes, tire rotations, broken air conditioners. Though, there was a bit of excitement when a girl’s car broke down in the intersection right in front of the garage. She was able to coast into the parking lot before the thing finally took a shit.”

“Oh God, poor thing. That’s awful.”

“I know. Her brother had to come get her so she wouldn’t be late picking her kids up from school. I think she might be new in town, but I didn’t really get a chance to ask. It took me a while to diagnose her disaster on wheels.”

“And?”

“Her transmission is toast. It’d cost more to fix it than the car’s even worth.”

I take another drink from my wine. “That’s a bad day.”

“Yeah, pretty much.” Dilynne brushes away the wisps of her jet-black hair that have fallen from the red bandana she always wears while she’s at work but hasn’t bothered to remove yet.

One thing about my best friend that I admire the most is that she’s never afraid to be herself.

Dilynne has always been a bit of a “black cat,” standing out from the crowd instead of trying to fit in.

She likes what she likes, dresses the way she wants, and has a love for everything vintage, especially classic cars and anything from the 1950s.

When she told me she wanted to open her own automotive shop and specialize in custom restorations, it didn’t even surprise me.

Blossom Peak didn’t have a reputable repair shop anyway, so it made sense, especially with the number of tourists we see year to year.

But now, she’s been contacted by people from all over the state thanks to the internet and social media, and she goes to car shows every month to show off her restorations.

She’s the definition of a badass, and sometimes I wish I could channel her don’t-give-a-fuck attitude.

“What about you? How was your day?”

“Well, Tori came into the salon, wanting to make sure she reserved spa time for the day before the wedding, even though she already had. She seems a bit overwhelmed with the whole thing.”

Dilynne rolls her eyes. “Then she shouldn’t have agreed to getting married so quickly.”

“She and Elliot are in love,” I counter.

“No, Elliot is mesmerized by her fake boobs and amazing personality,” she quips.

“She’s not that bad.” I don’t even sound convincing to myself.

“I know you don’t remember her well from high school, but I do, and Tori is the definition of a mean girl.”

“People can change…”

Dilynne scoffs. “Oh, okay. So there’s hope for Fletcher?”

I harden my gaze. We stare at each other before Dilynne finally breaks eye contact.

“Fine, and the only reason I’m agreeing is because you’re my best friend and I know how the whole thing with him has affected you.

But do you honestly think this thing between Tori and Elliot is going to last? They only dated for six months.”

“It doesn’t matter what I think. This is what they want, and our job as their friends is to support them.”

“I am not friends with Tori, and I merely tolerate Elliot.” She takes another sip of her wine.

I practically snort. “Yes, I’m very aware of how you feel about Elliot. Anyway, apparently she’s too stressed with work, so she and Elliot have made a list of things for me and you-know-who to do before the wedding.”

“God, she’s annoying. I mean, she’s not even the one who wanted the traditional wedding, right? That was all Elliot?”

“More Elliot’s family, but yeah. I think the timeline is what’s making it overwhelming. She seems excited about it, though, and I assured her everything would be okay, but that’s when she brought up…”

Dilynne shakes her hands in the air. “Lucifer himself?”

I groan. “I’m seriously considering just staying drunk the entire time he’s here.”

Her eyes widen like I’ve just suggested setting myself on fire. “Uh, that’s a terrible idea. Alcohol is a truth serum, Laney. One glass too many and you might tell him every thought that’s crossed your mind over the past twelve years. You’ll end up sobbing in his lap or punching him in the nuts.”

Dilynne has always been my sounding board when it comes to Fletcher, but he hasn’t been a topic of conversation between us in a very long time.

I bury my head in my hands, propping them up on the kitchen counter.

“God, how am I going to survive this, Dilynne? Being near him makes my body and mind do weird shit. It’s like he has a forcefield surrounding him, and when I get too close, I get sucked back into his orbit.

It’s happened every time I’ve seen him since that night. ”

“This isn’t an alien romance book, Laney. He doesn’t have magical powers.”

“I’m not so sure about that. And you know what I found out today?”

“What?”

“He booked a manicure and a massage at the salon this week.”

Dilynne’s head rears back as she takes a seat on one of the stools at the kitchen counter.

“What the hell?”

“Exactly. I wonder if he even knows I own the place.”

Dilynne tilts her head and arches a brow. “Laney. Babe. You really think in the past six years the guys haven’t told him you opened a business? One of those guys is your brother.”

I grimace. “Okay, so if he does know, what the hell is he up to? Trying to get close enough to me that I might be tempted to pluck his toenails off, one by one?”

Dilynne shudders. “The fact that you came up with that so fast tells me you’ve put a lot of thought into that.”

“I have.” I stand up from the counter again and take my glass back in my hands. “I never should have agreed to be Tori’s maid of honor.”

“I tried telling you that, but you insisted that it was the right thing to do,” she sing-songs, mockingly.

“Yeah, well, if things were going well in my personal life, I don’t think I’d feel this off-kilter.

I just hate that he still has this effect on me after all these years, and yet again, I’m single with no prospects of moving on with someone better.

There has to be someone else who can make me feel the way he did. ”

“As your best friend, I’m going to tell you something you may not like, but I think you need to hear it.”

I swallow roughly, preparing for the truth she’s about to deliver—because if there’s one thing Dilynne’s good at, it’s telling it like it is. “Okay…”

She leans forward in her seat, locking her eyes on mine. “You’re the one giving him this power over you. You’ve spent so much time and energy hating him for what he did… And you’re the only one who can decide when to let it go.”

Emotion clogs my throat—because just hearing that reminder from Dilynne reminds me of all of the ways I’ve had to pick myself up and keep going, even when life felt hopeless and unfair.

I stare at her, knowing she’s right. But it doesn’t change how I feel.

Fletcher Adams broke my heart and it’s never been the same since.

“How do I do that?” I whisper.

“You just channel your inner Elsa.“ She shrugs like it’s so simple. “Besides, I think you romanticized a lot of your relationship with him because of your age.” I can’t deny that the thought has crossed my mind as well.

I was a teenager when I became obsessed with him.

I bet if I was dating someone else right now, I wouldn’t even care that he’s in town.

Sure…keep telling yourself that, Laney.

“And if that doesn’t work, you tell him the truth. You finally tell him how he made you feel that night, and then maybe you can start to move on.”

“Ugh, that sounds exhausting.”

She takes a sip of her wine. “No matter what you decide, you know I’m here for you.”

“I don’t know what I would do without you.” I reach for her hand, covering it with mine.

“You’ve been here through all the shit life has handed me.”

“Right back at you, Laney. And that will never change.” She smirks over the rim of her glass. “Although, I have to admit, I can’t wait to see what happens between you two leading up to this wedding. My Costco order of popcorn is already on its way.”

***

“Hey, you made it!” Rhonan pulls me into a hug as soon as I enter the tasting room of Hart Winery, kissing the top of my head.

“Did you think I wouldn’t? That would make me a shitty maid of honor.”

He grins as he hands me a glass of sparkling wine, one of the signature wines that made my parents’ winery famous. Leaning in close, he whispers, “I wouldn’t blame you if you did, though.”

“Be nice,” I fire back. “We’re trying to be supportive friends, remember?”