by Amanda Tru
Approaching the front porch, Dylan took the reins back from Brooke’s hands. “Hold on tight,” Dylan whispered in her ear. “And remember I’ve got you.”
Before she could ask what he meant, Dylan pumped the reins swiftly, saying, “Come on, Jezebel!”
The horse took off.
Brooke let out a strangled shriek and gripped Jezebel’s mane tightly. Dylan’s arms stayed securely at Brooke’s waist, and after the first burst of speed, Jezebel settled down into a brisk trot. They circled wide around the house and came back to a stop right at the front porch.
Dylan immediately slid off the horse and then offered his hands to help Brooke down. Thoroughly reminded of how much she disliked him, she pushed his hands away. He’d made the horse run on purpose, just to aggravate her. With all the warm, fuzzy feelings complete chased away, Brooke made no attempt to hide her dislike.
“Don’t be too hard on him, Brooke,” Celeste said cheerily. “You can’t ride a horse without running her through some paces a bit!”
Still not mollified in the least bit, Brooke brought her leg over and tried to slip off the horse slowly, her toes reaching for the ground. All of the sudden, she lost her grip, and her slow dismount turned into a fast slide. For the second time in an hour, Dylan caught her before she hit the ground.
Now, even more upset by her own clumsiness, Brooke scrambled to her feet and hurriedly shrugged Dylan off, landing an elbow to Dylan’s torso in her haste.
“Next time I’ll be sure to let you fall!” Dylan said in protest.
“Please do!” Brooke shot back.
Celeste looked from Brooke to Dylan and then laughed. Shaking her head, she led the way up the porch to the front door. “Come on in!”
“Is the coast clear?” Dylan asked warily stepping through the front door.
“Yes, I believe so,” Celeste replied brightly. “Nana was out raking up her garden last I checked.”
“Celeste’s grandmother lives with her,” Dylan explained, turning to hold open the door for Brooke to enter. “Her parents retired to Florida and still come back for the growing season, but Ruby stays all year long.”
“What he isn’t saying is that my Nana wasn’t too happy with Dylan after we broke up. We ran into each other at the store a couple months back, and it was not pretty.”
“She made it clear that I was an idiot for not doing everything I could to keep her granddaughter, which I probably was. And I think she said some worse things too, which I’ve tried to forget.”
Brooke shook her head. “Dylan Masters, making friends, one breakup at a time.”
Dylan flashed her a wilted half-smile as he methodically looked through all the windows and doors on the way to the kitchen area. It really did seem like he was terrified of Celeste’s nana and was checking to make sure she really wasn’t around!
Brooke followed them into the kitchen, pausing at the sight of the beautiful bouquet of daisies and sunflowers gracing the center of the table. She really had done a nice job with that arrangement. Too bad it should have never been created.
Celeste paused in gathering mugs for coffee and looked at Brooke intently. “You should definitely keep this one around, Dylan,” she said finally, as if delivering a vitally important verdict. Every other woman I know falls at your feet, but this one gives as good as she gets!”
Dylan shook his head. “I think she’s definitely way ahead of me in overall points. After all, she did send flowers to all of my exes.”
Celeste’s laughter tinkled like little bells. After setting a mug of coffee on the table for each of them, Brooke sat down, gesturing for them to do the same.
Brooke took her seat, but stared at the coffee in front of her with great trepidation.
“Oh, my!” Celeste cried, jumping up. “Didn’t you say that coffee started your whole mess? You poor thing! You probably want nothing to do with coffee. Can I get you some tea or hot apple cider instead?”
“I’d love some cider,” Brooke said, even saying a quick prayer of thanks in her great relief.
A steaming mug of cider soon replaced the coffee in front of Brooke, and Celeste once again took her seat. Dylan, apparently satisfied with no sightings of Celeste’s nana, also took his seat. But before he brought the mug to his lips, his phone rang.
“It’s work,” he said, looking at the number on his screen. “I’m sorry, I need to take this.”
Dylan grabbed his mug of coffee and went out the door. But he didn’t go far, and Brooke could still see him through the large front windows, standing on the front porch and talking into his phone. Taking a sip of her cider, Brooke turned her attention back to Celeste.
The woman across from her was, by all appearances a great catch. Even with her long, blonde hair pulled into cute twin braids, it was obvious that she was beautiful. And her light blue, forget-me-not eyes projected kindness, intelligence, and a bright, good-humored outlook on life. It was easy to understand why Dylan had broken up with Janice Thornton. But Celeste was a mystery. It seemed like any man who had Celeste for a girlfriend should bend over backward to keep her.
“I really am sorry about sending you flowers by mistake,” Brooke said softly. “I know you acted like it didn’t bother you, but it was still a pretty awful thing to do.”
Celeste smiled sadly. “Dylan and I didn’t have a terrible breakup, but it was quite clear that it was over. I had no dreams of him coming back to me or finding me suddenly irresistible. I knew the flowers had to be just a friendly gesture, for old time’s sake, or a mistake. He didn’t love me then, and I had no reason to believe he’d change his mind.”
Celeste brightened, the brief cloud of introspection now parting. “You don’t have any reason to apologize to me, Brooke. In fact, I really should be thanking you. The bright spot in all of this is that I get to have a good laugh at the thought of him trying to make explanations to half of the Crossroads’ women who love him and the other half who hate him!”
“And where do you fall in that spectrum?” Brooke ventured. For some reason, the nature of Celeste and Dylan’s relationship was far more interesting than perhaps it should be.
Celeste’s blue eyes blinked as if she was slightly caught off guard by the question. “Well, sometimes I love him, and sometimes I hate him. But most of the time, it’s a little of both.”
But Celeste’s answer wasn’t quite good enough, seeming to raise more questions than offer answers. So Brooke pushed further. “I hope you don’t mind me asking, but I’m a little confused. You seem like a woman any man would be thrilled to have as a girlfriend, and your feelings for Dylan were obviously strong enough that they still exist. So why did you and he break up?”
Celeste shrugged. “I suppose it’s the same reason everyone breaks up with him.”
“You mean you were the one who broke up with him?” Brooke asked, taken off guard. “With the way you talked about Dylan, I just assumed…”
“Yes, I officially called it off, but let’s just say he wasn’t upset.”
Brooke shook her head, trying to clear it. “So what is the reason for all the breakups?”
Celeste sighed. “Dylan Masters is the prize every single woman in about a hundred square miles wants. The relationship falls apart when the girlfriend realizes that he’s not serious, and she wants him to be. He’s Dylan Masters—which means they aren’t content to be another bead on his chain. Maybe he has commitment issues, or maybe he really just isn’t interested in anything serious. But, you don’t date Dylan hoping to have a good time. You date him hoping to be the one.”
“But it’s awful that he’s lead so many women on!” Brooke protested.
Celeste shook her head. “He doesn’t lead them on. Unfortunately, with a few months, I’ve gained a little perspective. At no point is Dylan ever serious. He never says ‘I love you.’ To my knowledge, he doesn’t sleep with his girlfriends. In fact, he is a perfect gentleman, which, in itself, I think ticks some of the women off! Any hurt feelings are the result
of the girlfriend assuming, or wanting too much.”
“So in your case?”
Taking a sip of coffee, Celeste answered slowly, “Dylan and I dated for about a month, which is pretty long-term for a Dylan Masters relationship. We had a lot of fun, and I thought we were good for each other. But after that month, I realized that I wasn’t the one. I could see it in his eyes. And I knew that time wouldn’t change that fact, so I broke up with him. I liked him way too much, but I was smart enough to realize it was mostly one-sided. I got out before I could get in any deeper. I had my audition to be special, and it didn’t work out. But I think that’s how all his girlfriends feel. I guess that makes me just another bead in his chain.”
“I’m sorry,” Brooke said sympathetically. “You seem to be saying that it’s not his fault, but the man leaves lots of broken hearts in his wake. How is that okay?”
“It’s not intentional on his part,” Celeste was quick to defend. “And for my part, I knew his reputation going in, as does probably every other woman he dates. He doesn’t talk about his feelings or make any kind of promises that he doesn’t keep. I think, if you really want to define it, ours was a really good friendship. That’s probably the case of most of his relationships. But with a man as nice to look at, smart, and kind as Dylan, most women aren’t satisfied with just friendship. I wanted a romance, which I most definitely did not get.”
“Do you think that he’ll ever settle down and stick with one woman?” Brooke asked, her eyes drifting back to where Dylan still stood on the porch.
“Everyone else seems to think he will,” Celeste said with a shrug. “At least, that’s the hope that keeps sending women to fawn over him and present their application to date him.”
Her eyes drifted out to Dylan as well, and she continued thoughtfully, “But I don’t know. With the number of women he’s dated, I think he should have found at least one he wanted a romance with by now, so I’m more skeptical. I don’t know a single woman he’s ever dated longer than a month or had any serious romance with. Maybe he’s just not the marrying and relationship type. I never quite figured him out enough to know what makes him tick.”
Her coffee empty, Celeste stood and took her mug to the sink to wash it out. Over her shoulder, she added. “However, I’m fairly certain if he ever does find ‘the one,’ that all of woman-kind, including all his exes, will applaud and consider that a win. The woman who gets Dylan Masters to fall in love with her will not be resented at all. She will be admired and thanked for lassoing the uncatchable.”
Brooke’s laughter was interrupted by the squeak of the front door.
Dylan came walking in with his suit jacket slung over his shoulder, having apparently retrieved it from where he’d left it in the barn. “Are you ready to go, Brooke?” he asked. “Sorry to leave, Celeste, but there are quite a few other names to visit and cross off the list.”
Dylan walked over to the sink and ran water to wash his empty mug out. Brooke stood as well, intending to follow Dylan to the sink with hers. But before she got there, a small figure rushed up and smacked Dylan in the back of the head with a rolled-up newspaper.
“Hey!” Dylan protested flinching and reaching up to rub his head. Turning around, he raised his hands to protect his face against the newspaper’s continued onslaught while squawking, “Stop that, Nana!”
“I’m not your Nana!” the small woman shot back, waving the newspaper even more fiercely. “I could have been, but instead, you decided to break my Celeste’s heart!”
“Nana, stop!” Celeste said, making a grab for the newspaper. “I already told you that I was the one who broke up with Dylan, not the other way around!”
“Yes, but you wouldn’t have needed to break up with him if he hadn’t broken your heart!”
Finally snatching hold of the newspaper, Celeste wrenched it from her nana’s hand. “Obviously, Nana didn’t take the breakup nearly as well as I did,” Celeste said to Brooke while sending a look of reprimand the older woman’s direction.
“And I see that she still sees me as the villain,” Dylan said with a wince.
Celeste threw her hands up in frustration. “I’ve tried to explain to her, but she—”
“Is fully capable of forming her own opinions,” the tiny woman interrupted. “And I sincerely think that only a cad of a man would throw a woman away only to send her a beautiful bouquet of flowers a few months later!”
“But, Nana, there was a mistake with the order. It wasn’t Dylan’s fault.”
Celeste’s efforts didn’t seem to calm her nana in the least. The little silver-haired woman reminded Brooke of a small dog, like a Shih Tzu, who was eager to take on a German Shepherd.
“You are always making excuses for him, Celeste. But no excuse can change who a man is.”
“That’s very true,” Brooke said, stepping toward the older woman. “But I’m really the one to blame for the flowers.”
Nana turned and looked at Brooke, as if realizing, for the first time, that Dylan wasn’t their only visitor.
Seizing the opportunity of her attention, Brooke hurried to explain. “I am a florist. In fact, I’m the one who arranged that bouquet on the table. And I’m the one who mistakenly sent it to Celeste.”
Brooke’s words seemed to give Nana pause. “I’ve never heard of such a thing.”
Encouraged, Brooke pressed forward, a small kernel of an idea forming even as she spoke. “I’m trying to find all of the orders I messed up and explain what happened. In the case of this particular bouquet, I think the mistake was really that it ended up with the wrong person. I don’t think the bouquet was meant for Celeste at all. It was meant for you.”
“For me?” Nana asked, putting her hand to her heart.
“Yes,” Brooke nodded with confidence. “I think that if Dylan had a chance to rewrite the card, he would talk about how, even though it didn’t work out with him and Celeste, he still respects and likes both you and your granddaughter very much.”
Nana turned to Dylan, her lips trembling. “Is that how you really feel, Dylan?”
Dylan nodded. “Very much so. I felt the loss very deeply when Celeste and I broke up. I hate that you have hard feelings toward me, especially because I only have the best feelings toward you and truly wish you were still a part of my life.”
Brooke watched the older woman’s eyes soften. Then she glided over and gently caressed the centerpiece of flowers. “I do so like daisies,” she said with a smile. Then she looked back up to Dylan and reached out her wrinkled hand to his, her smile now turning rather shy. “Thank you for the flowers, Dylan.”
“You’re very welcome, Nana,” Dylan answered. But his eyes weren’t on Nana; they were set on Brooke.
Nana cleared her throat delicately. Turning to Brooke, she said sweetly, “You, my dear, may call me Nana.” Turning back to Dylan, she patted his hand again and said firmly. “And you, my dear, may not.”
The humor of the situation was completely lost on Brooke, for Dylan’s eyes were still locked with Brooke’s, and she couldn’t read his expression. Maybe he was just thankful. There may have even been a trace of admiration in his gaze. But there was something else she couldn’t identify. The only thing she knew was that the look made her mouth go dry, and she wasn’t sure she could still feel her feet.
With great effort, Brooke tore her gaze away. “I guess we need to be going. I have many more apologies to make for all of the accidental orders. Celeste, thank you so much for your hospitality. I’m so glad I got to meet you, and I hope we get to see each other again.”
“I’m sure we will,” Celeste said, a strange sparkle in her eye. “I’m excited to see what the future holds, especially for you!”
“What do you mean?” Brooke asked, confused. “I can tell you that my immediate future isn’t looking so rosy since I have to clean up all of yesterday’s mistakes.”
Celeste impulsively threw her arms around Brooke in a hug and whispered, “No, I’m talking about a future tha
t includes me needing to revise some of my earlier theories on Dylan Masters!”
Brooke smiled, even though she didn’t really follow what Celeste was meaning. Following Dylan out the door, they eagerly made their exit before Celeste could rope them into doing more work or Nana could locate the newspaper again and decided she really did want to attack Dylan.
The important thing now was that she had just marked another one of Dylan’s exes off the apology list. For just a minute, she tried to savor that accomplishment and tried not to think of how many she still had left.
“Let’s get some lunch,” Dylan said, pulling into a parking space. “I’m hungry.”
“Ok,” Brooke agreed, mostly because she was hungry as well.
They got out of the car, and Dylan pointed to a building not far away. “There’s a sandwich shop over there, and it’s right across from our next stop.”
“And where is our next stop?” Brooke said, hurrying to keep up with Dylan’s fast pace. “With one ex-girlfriend a judge and another one a cowgirl, I’m curious as to who the next one will be!”
Dylan didn’t answer, but pulled open the door of the restaurant for her to pass through. A few minutes later, they were sitting at a table with their sandwiches, which they had paid for individually, of course.
Glancing at her phone, Brooke realized it was already well past lunchtime. “Don’t you need to get to work?” Brooke said, thinking of his phone call back at Celeste’s farm. “Are they ok with you being gone this long?”
