Page 29 of Lovewell Lane (Honeyfield Dreamers #1)

Margo

The diner was in full swing, like usual. I was at a point where I felt like I was constantly running on fumes. Before the grand opening, I’d been worried about having enough people show up to make ends meet. Boy, was I worrying about the wrong thing.

I expected to have time to figure out things like payroll and finances after we got things rolling. There was no time. For anything. I was in constant survival mode. Despite running around like a chicken with my head cut off, I was having the time of my life.

It felt like a major win every time I recognized one of my customers or remembered their regular order. Not to brag or anything, but I kind of kicked ass at this. I loved being in charge, and more than anything, I loved being great at what I do.

“Hey, Slick,” I greeted. “I didn’t know you were back in town. How was the trip?”

“Exquisite. I have a photo album to show you at home. Nothing like being out in nature.”

I wanted to ask him why nature across the country was better than the nature in his own backyard with his family surrounding him. But I held my tongue. I’d spent most of my adult life running away, so I was the last person who should be judging.

“Can’t wait,” I said. “What can I get for you? It’s on the house since you’re a first-timer.”

“I’m paying full price. I have a proposal for you, too.”

“Oh? Do tell.”

“When do you get out of this joint tonight?”

I looked around the full dining room. “Probably after dark. We’ve been pretty busy, as I’m sure you can see.”

“Any way you can get out earlier?”

“Um,” I mumbled.

Sarah stopped by the table to interject, “Take her early. She hasn’t had a day off in months.”

I laughed at the seriousness in her voice. “I’m doing just fine.”

“Everyone needs a day off. Trust me, you don’t want to get burnt out. Breaks are important, kid.”

“How early are we talking?” I asked.

“Six o’clock,” Slick offered.

“How is seven?” I countered.

“I’ll take it.”

We shared a laugh together before I asked. “What is this for? Another family dinner?”

“Something like that. Just be at the house at seven, and I’ll get you sorted.”

“Yes, sir,” I answered.

When Slick asked me to take off work early, I was expecting it to be about the Honey Festival. Or maybe just another classic Weston family dinner. I walked up to the front door of my house to find candles and flowers in Derek’s backyard.

“What the…”

No one was in sight, so I walked into my house and quickly shut the door.

I closed my newly installed blinds and decided to take a shower.

That had quickly become my favorite part of my day these last few months.

The hot water soothed my aching muscles, and I always came out of it feeling fresh and clean.

I wasn’t sure what all those candles were about, so I put on a sundress, hoping it would be acceptable for a casual or nicer dinner. Whatever the occasion was, I believed a pretty floral dress was appropriate.

Entering the backyard, I found Slick standing next to the circular wrought iron table and chairs that always sat in Derek’s backyard.

Since spring had officially sprung, flowers and bushes bloomed all around the yard.

Their small fenced-in section was overplanted, so it felt like a magical fairy garden from having so many plants in an enclosed space.

It made my morning brighter every time I went to leave for the diner.

“Over here, Margo,” Slick said. He’d pulled out a chair with a pillow cushion on the seat for me. I walked over and sat down. Usually, there were four chairs at this table, but I quickly realized there was only one across from me.

Was Derek’s father taking me on a date? He was called Slick, after all.

I turned around to question him. “Um, Slick, this is great–”

“Just stay here,” he said offhandedly. He left me to sit in the yard by myself and walked up the steps back into the house.

I looked at the fully set table and took a sip of what looked like wine that was sitting in front of me. Yep, definitely wine. It was heavenly after working a full twelve-hour day.

A few minutes later, I heard a commotion coming from inside the house. The door opened and Derek looked like he was a deer in headlights as he walked out onto the porch with his hands filled with two plates.

He quickly gathered himself and walked down the stairs. He hid it well, but there was a hint of a shocked look on his face. “How did he convince you to do this?” he gruffed.

“Uh, I’m not sure exactly what ‘this’ is. What’s going on?”

Derek covered his face with a hand after setting the plates on the table and his shoulders shook. He seemed to gather his composure again when he said, “A date.”

“Oh.” My mouth hung open for a beat stupidly. “He’s parent-trapping us.”

“That isn’t a verb. And again– we aren’t both parents.”

“Setting us up sounds boring,” I said while taking a big gulp of wine. I relaxed into my chair and crossed my legs while leaning back to stare up at him. He stood awkwardly next to the table. “Are you going to join me or not?”

“Do you want me to?”

I laughed. “Free food, I guess.”

He sat down across from me, and I couldn’t help but giggle at his stiff body posture. I could tell he had no clue what to do around me since we kissed. Making a man that was so sure of himself, unsure, gave me a lot of joy.

“We should probably clear the air,” I said, not wanting to spend my entire dinner under the piercing gaze of Derek’s observant eyes. Maybe he would lighten up if we talked about it.

He looked at me with one of his fists white knuckling the table. “Okay.”

“I know we kissed,” I mused. “But we don’t have to make things weird. I’m really liking this town, and like you said, love is painful. We don’t need to risk this nice setup we have going.”

He looked shocked. “This nice setup?”

“Yeah, our friendship. It’s nice.”

He nodded hesitantly. “Friends, then?”

“Friends,” I finalized. I lifted up my hand for us to shake on it. This would be good. No one would get hurt. I’d never been hurt by a friend before.

He looked appalled at the idea of doing a business handshake over it, but he did it anyway. I clapped my hands and dusted them off. “Let’s eat!”

Derek passed me a roll, one that looked suspiciously like the ones I made earlier that day at the diner, and our hands brushed.

My heart fluttered a little at the touch.

I put it to the back of my mind, blaming it on my lack of physical touch since moving to this town. Maybe I just needed to get laid.

Something about clearing the air did wonders for me.

It was like all the holding back I had done over the last few months when we were together with Tessa or we crossed paths at the diner flooded out of me.

I told Derek about Lucky’s, and I asked him about regulars from Honeyfield.

He told me all of the lore about the characters I remembered along with their dirty secrets, like who hooked up in high school and who fathered secret babies in other towns.

It was magical. We had a great time. My cheeks hurt by the end of the dinner from smiling so much.

Derek was smiley too. Well, he did his classic Derek smile which involved his cheekbones showing a little and the corners of his mouth tilting up.

By any other person’s standards, it would’ve been a non-bothered blank face. On him, it meant he was elated.

Our plates were both cleared, but neither of us stood up from the table. After a lull in the conversation, Derek looked at me and asked, “Have you ever caught lightning bugs?”

I shook my head. “Fireflies?”

“Yeah, come on.” He stood and reached for my hand. “You live in a small town now, you’ve gotta do small town activities.”

I followed his lead, and he brought me to his four-wheeler. “Why don’t you wear a helmet?” I asked as he handed me one to put on.

“I grew up driving this thing when I was Tessa’s age with no helmet. I only put it on you two out of an abundance of caution.”

Oh. He cared about my safety. That was sweet.

Any good friend would do that. Then I climbed on the four-wheeler, and instead of sitting on the back corner like I had in the past, I sat behind Derek with my legs on both sides of his.

To make it friendly, I grabbed onto the railing behind me rather than wrapping my arms around Derek’s waist. Our thighs pressed against each other were already enough to have me second-guessing this whole friend thing an hour after we agreed on it.

Then he reached for my arms and pulled them around his waist anyway. “Safer this way,” he grumbled. “Hold on.”

He took us out to one of his strawberry fields. There were no lights or buildings in sight, apart from his barn in the far-off distance. The sun had just set, so the sky was still filled with swirls of beautiful pink and orange hues, lighting the sky and fields with a dark mural of colors.

We hopped off, and I slid off my helmet. Derek pulled out two small mason jars that he’d stashed in his pockets while we were in the garage. “Wanna race?”

“Race?”

“To see who can get to twenty the fastest?”

“Oh, you are so on, Weston. I’m going to crush you.”

He pushed a jar into my hands and sprinted off into the field, chasing the spontaneous yellow lights twinkling throughout the field.

I’d seen a few fireflies by the house in the evenings since it started getting warm, but nothing like this.

They danced around the strawberry fields in a synchronized pattern, swaying to the music the crickets and frogs made.

I stood in awe for a moment, before watching Derek catch a few in the span of a minute. He waited for them to come to him and would gently cup his palms around the bug before guiding it into his jar. Realizing I was up against the clock, I sprung into action.