Once in a Blue Moon

by Amanda Ashby

  “You hate the beach. And the sun.”

  “Now you’re making me sound like a vampire,” she complained as she stood up. He ignored her.

  “I appreciate the grand gesture, but having my ex-wife vacationing down the road isn’t quite what my editor ordered. And what about Ryan?”

  “Relax,” she said as her fingers flew across the screen of her phone. His brother’s photo appeared. “I only said my meathead couldn’t come up until I’d spoken to you.”

  “Wait? Ryan’s here, too?” Adam stalked over to the window and glanced out. Laney stood in front of her store with a huge bunch of lilies in her arms and Violet sitting primly at her feet.

  He turned back to Eloise, who’d reapplied her lipstick and was inspecting her eye makeup in a compact mirror.

  “Isn’t it great?” She shut the compact with a decisive snap and got to her feet. “He’s waiting for us at the inn. We should go before he starts drinking for two. Then you can show us around this place and take us out to dinner.”

  Adam closed his eyes. This wasn’t quite how he’d envisioned his day going.

  He really was fine with the fact his brother had knocked up his ex-wife and that they appeared to be blissfully happy, but he didn’t need to experience it firsthand.

  To be reminded that their happiness was due to his own failure. While living next door to the only other woman he’d attempted to get serious with.

  “Well?” Eloise said in an impatient voice, sounding more like her usual self. “Are you coming?”

  “Sure.” He followed her to the door, this time making sure he locked it on the way out. There’d been too many surprises for one day.

  Chapter Six

  “A date should be like a movie production. Full of twists and turns but with great catering, big set pieces, and some secret behind-the-scenes action.” Blue Moon

  Laney stared at her closet. What did one wear on a date they didn’t want to go on? She reached for a dress. Not quite as bad as the one she’d worn when she’d met Adam for a drink, but not by much. The white fabric had green curling fern fronds printed on it. Unfortunately, they happened to look like sperm. The perils of online shopping.

  She shrugged it on and crossed the room. It hadn’t been the only thing she’d bought online. Heat hit her cheeks as she tugged open the drawer. At the front were sensible panties and bras, but hidden at the back were four sets of delicate silk lingerie. Her itch had made her buy them. She’d worn them a couple of times, hoping it would solve the problem.

  But they just made everything worse, so she’d hidden them. Her fingers drifted over the flimsy apricot bra. The silk was velvet against her skin, and the frothy lace was the only support it offered. Nope. She shivered and put it back.

  Granny panties and ugly dress it was. She finished getting dressed and stared at her auburn hair. No matter how often she got it highlighted, lowlighted, foiled, or coiled, it still ended up pale copper. She gave it a vigorous brush and let it hang down her back. Blue eyes were where they should be on her face; same with her nose. She added some foundation, mascara, and lipstick, then put her makeup away.

  Violet wandered into the room and glanced at the dress before walking over to the little wooden display rack Pete had built to hold the different-colored collars.

  She nosed one then wagged her tail.

  “Nice choice.” It was a soft pink with a row of rose gold studs all around it. Laney sat down on the floor, and the little dog climbed into her lap. Scruffy hair tickled Laney’s chin. She unbuckled the current collar and replaced it with the pink one.

  “There. How’s that?” She kissed the furry head. Violet snuffled and put out a paw. The purple nail polish was chipped, and obviously rose petal pink would suit the collar more. “Sorry, we can’t do nails tonight. I have to go out. I wish you could come with me. Correction, I wish I could cancel and we could stay in together.”

  Her phone beeped with a text message. It would be Jessica, checking she didn’t back out.

  “That’s my cue. Let’s take you around to Aunty Sam’s place. She doesn’t do nail polish, but she makes a mean doggy snack.”

  They walked down to her courtyard, and Laney winced at the weeds that were poking their way through.

  Since when did she neglect her garden?

  Her itch snickered, and she groaned.

  I meant my literal garden.

  She let herself through the side gate into Sam’s courtyard and handed Violet over to her friend. Then she took a deep breath of fresh spring air and headed to her car.

  It was a date. In a few hours it would all be over. How hard could it be?

  “This one breaks down my household expenses so I can see exactly where I’ve been overspending for the month.” Carl held up his phone to show her the Venn diagram in question.

  “Wow.” She nodded, not quite sure what she was looking at. It must have been the correct response. He happily flicked the screen and brought up another one. It was in browns and mustards. She wrinkled her nose. She might not understand statistics, but his color palette was troubling.

  He was good-looking in a neat kind of way, with light brown hair, hazel eyes, and clean nails. On the downside (well, apart from the Venn diagrams), he was twenty-seven-years old. Something Jessica had conveniently forgotten to mention.

  “And this one’s about Giselle,” Carl continued, not noticing she’d accidentally checked out. Whoops. Pay attention.

  “Giselle? That’s a lovely name. I have a pooch, too. Violet. She’s—”

  “No. Not my dog. Giselle,” he repeated, as if it would somehow make sense. “She’s my girlfriend. My ex-girlfriend, I mean.”

  Oh.

  “Y-you did a Venn diagram about your ex-girlfriend?”

  “Absolutely. How else can I figure out what went wrong?” He held up another graph. This one was in gray and green. “Though I’m still baffled. Look at our union in the middle.”

  “That is odd,” she agreed as she tried to focus on Carl’s hands with the clean nails. Were his fingers weirdly small? Maybe it was just the size of his phone? No. Pay attention.

  She’d promised to make an effort.

  She smiled again and glanced toward the kitchen door. No sign of their food yet. The restaurant was busy, and they were already onto a second drink as they waited. It also meant she couldn’t leave.

  “The math doesn’t lie, Laney.” Carl took a slug of wine. Okay, his hands were definitely small. Not that it mattered. She toyed with her own glass. She’d wanted a beer, but Carl had ordered before she’d had a chance to say anything. Then he let out a groan. “Oh, gosh. I’m doing it again.”

  “Doing what?” She blinked.

  “Talking about Giselle. I promised I wouldn’t. I mean, we’re on a date, right? We’re having such a great time, and I spoiled it.” His hazel eyes were solemn, and Laney swallowed down a stab of guilt. At least he’d been making an effort, as odd as it was.

  But what had she done? Judged him on his small hands. “I don’t mind if you want to talk about her. It might make you feel better,” she said truthfully. She understood a thing or two about struggling to move on.

  “Really?” He gave her a cautious look. Had some well-meaning friend schooled him on what to say and not say?

  “Really,” she agreed. He reached for his phone, but she stopped him. “Why don’t you just tell me about her?”

  “You’re really nice,” he said as a hush came over the room, and people all around them turned toward the door. Curious, she glanced over her shoulder.

  Adam Fitzpatrick. He was with a bombshell of a woman and a Greek god of a man, both of whom she recognized from the news. His ex-wife, Eloise, and his older brother, Ryan.

  She hadn’t met either of them before.

  Ryan had been playing for a team in Florida and busy being a superstar whe
n Laney and Adam were together. And Eloise had been the angelic Elle compared to Laney’s unhinged Nina, so their timelines had never crossed.

  Heat hit her cheeks. She really had to get that under control.

  Had he seen her?

  Did he know she was on a bad date? Stop. She couldn’t blame Carl for it being bad. He was sweet and heartbroken. It wasn’t a crime.

  “Oh, hey. It’s the writer. Now that guy knows about women. Doctor Josh. I bet if he’d been dating Giselle, she never would have left him.” He sighed as Adam walked to the bar.

  Don’t look at him. Don’t look at him.

  She looked.

  A blue shirt hugged his shoulders and matched the dark frown of his mouth. Maybe his night was as awkward as hers? After all, he was on a date with his ex-wife, who was now his sister-in-law. Stop it.

  She forced herself to only look at Carl just as their food arrived.

  “Is that what happened? She left you?” She gratefully busied herself with salt and pepper until Adam headed over to a table at the back of the restaurant. Safe again.

  “On Valentine’s Day,” he said with a shudder as he cut into his steak and gave her a play-by-play of the entire night.

  He was still going as dessert arrived.

  It had started by him trying to propose and ended with Giselle producing a ten-point list of why she couldn’t marry a man who expected her to give up her career for him. Carl had turned the list into a bar graph. After producing it, his voice began to falter. Of course he supported her career, but he just thought maybe she didn’t want to keep being an exotic dancer.

  Laney spluttered on the last crumb of key lime pie. She wasn’t sure what she thought his Giselle would be like, but it hadn’t been an exotic dancer. However, as he continued telling her about their courtship, it made sense.

  “I’m really sorry that happened to you,” she said once the check had been brought to the table. “It sounds like you really love her.”

  “I do.” He sighed as he picked up the check and studied it. Laney reached for her purse.

  “Should we split it?”

  “I-I’m not sure.” His brows pushed together in concentration. She somehow guessed his dating coach had also told him to pay the bill. Then again, she was listening to an imaginary itch. Pots and kettles.

  Besides, it wasn’t a date. Not really.

  “I am.” She picked up the check and pulled out some cash. Carl gratefully followed suit, and they headed for the door.

  A trail of night-blooming clematis clung to the spring air, and she breathed it in. At least she’d met Carl there, which meant he didn’t need to drop her home. She flipped open her purse for her keys, then turned to say good night.

  Where was he?

  “Carl?” She scanned the parking lot until she heard a soft moaning noise. She followed it until she found him sitting on the hood of a late-model Ford, face buried in his hands. The noise increased, and she stiffened. Not moaning…sobbing.

  Oh, dear.

  “Carl? Are you okay?”

  “Fine.” He hiccupped and let out another shuddering sob. Laney licked her lips and tried to figure out what to do.

  “You don’t sound fine. Is this about Giselle?” she said in a cautious voice as she patted his arm.

  “It’s my fault,” was the muffled reply. “I messed up, and I don’t know how to fix it. I love her so much. I don’t care if she wants to keep dancing.”

  “Is there someone I can call? A friend?”

  The crying got louder, and she wrapped her arms around her stomach as the spring breeze picked up. She couldn’t take him back into Carriage, and she didn’t want him at her place. But she couldn’t leave him.

  “And now I’ve messed up another date. I mean, look at you. So pretty. And your dress had maidenhair ferns on it. I like maidenhair ferns. We both—”

  He broke off into another dry sob. She could only imagine Giselle liked them, too.

  “You didn’t mess anything up,” she said and patted his arm again as footsteps echoed across the parking lot. Her nose twitched. Cedarwood with a hint of mint.

  Adam.

  So far, he’d found her up a tree, hiding outside Sam’s café, and now on an awkward blind date. Why did he keep turning up at the worst possible moment?

  When Carl stops crying, he can make me a Venn diagram to explain it.

  “Problem?” His voice swept across her skin. A delicious thrill pooled in her belly, and her itch put in its first appearance of the night. Her brow pounded as she tried her hardest not to compare the two men in front of her. On paper, Carl had made sense. But it seemed her body didn’t care about paper or logic.

  “He’s just…a bit overwhelmed,” she said as the sobbing subsided.

  “Am I in the middle of a breakup?” Adam shifted his attention back to her.

  “Not exactly.” Her stomach churned with embarrassment, but poor Carl needed help. “It’s our first date, but…I don’t think he’s over his ex.”

  “Ah.” His brow lifted. “Want some help?”

  No. Laney shut her eyes. The last thing she wanted was to be rescued by Adam Fitzpatrick. But, as Carl let out another shuddering sob, she reluctantly gave him a little nod.

  Adam smiled. It was…breathtaking. It radiated out through his eyes and touched parts of her that hadn’t been touched in quite some time.

  Do not unpack that thought.

  “Hey, buddy, how about we walk it off?”

  “I’m not drunk. I’m heartbroken.” Carl wailed, finally taking his hands away from his eyes. He blinked in recognition. “Doctor Josh. I saw you in there before. What am I doing wrong, doc? Why did she say no?”

  “I’m not a—” Adam’s face tightened at the mention of the name the media had given him. She’d never considered that anyone else had suffered from the wretched book, let alone Adam himself. A second later, it was gone, and he patted Carl on the back. “Yup. That’s me, Doctor Josh. You know I could help. But we don’t want to give all the good stuff away to the opposition.”

  Carl narrowed his watery eyes as if considering the statement. “Okay.” He slid down from the hood of the car and looked at Laney. “Would you mind?”

  “Not at all,” she said truthfully. “I hope it works out with Giselle. She sounds lovely.”

  Carl’s mouth quivered again, but Adam gave him a hearty pat on the back. “Why don’t you tell me all about her? Then we’ll put together a plan.”

  Carl nodded in agreement and they headed away.

  As they reached the door, Adam turned his head back toward her. A tiny smile hovered on his mouth, and her skin tingled in response. She took a shuddering breath and managed to nod her head in thanks.

  She waited until they’d disappeared and shakily leaned against the car. At least now she could make her escape. If only she knew which of them she was trying to escape from.

  …

  “What flower do you think Drew is?” India asked in a dreamy voice the following day. Laney didn’t bother to answer, mainly because her assistant was trying to decide for herself. She’d come up with honeysuckle, blossoms, and cornflowers before dismissing them. Laney smiled. The good-looking courier with curling hair and abs of steel was a sweet pea, but India would figure it out soon enough.

  She returned to the branches on the workbench as her phone rang.

  “So?” her sister-in-law demanded without preamble. “How was it?”

  “Let’s just say I might get the flower order if his ex-girlfriend accepts his next proposal.”

  “I’m sorry. I guess there wasn’t any chemistry.”

  Not with Carl.

  Her breathing quickened as Adam’s wickedly low voice slid along her skin. Reminding her of a different time. Back when they’d been close. Back when his piercing gaze could make her tug away at her
clothing and throw herself at him.

  She pushed the dangerous memory away. It had been five years since Simon died, and she’d rebuilt her life in St. Clair and found a new way of living. A way that let her get up each morning without having to touch at the dark tangle of pain that still clung to her heart.

  And five years of not letting anyone get close to me.

  “At least we tried.”

  “Just because you got one bad fish doesn’t mean you shouldn’t go out again. I’m proud of you.”

  “Yup, I’m doing great.” She plastered a smile on, even though she was speaking on the phone. Jessica spent the rest of the call filling her in on the arrival of Eloise and Ryan Fitzpatrick and the fact she was pregnant. Laney unwittingly winced. Poor Adam. He’d coped with his brother and ex-wife getting married, but how did he feel about them having a child together?

  None of my business.

  The rest of the day sped by in a blur of bouquets and orders, and she’d just kicked off her shoes when Violet barked from her spot in the window.

  “Hello, stranger.” Sam waved a bottle of wine and three glasses in the air. Violet rushed over and held up her paw. Sam kneeled to shake it. “Yes, hello darling. You’re very beautiful in that red collar.”

  Violet then moved onto Paige and sniffed the picnic basket in her hands.

  “We’re not taking no for an answer. It’s been far too long. I haven’t even heard how it went in Seattle. Let alone your date last night,” Paige said.

  Laney hugged her two friends, swallowing back a slither of guilt. The side effect of avoiding Adam was she hadn’t popped into the bookstore and had even cut back on her coffees, since he’d fallen victim to Sam’s double chocolate chip cookies.

  My life is a minefield.

  “I know. While I was away, India managed to dazzle the new event center at Clamshell Bay, the owner of that huge mansion out on Bethany Road, and convince the Watsons to celebrate their fiftieth wedding anniversary with an eight-foot floral wall. It’s been a little crazy. But I’m more than ready to ignore it until Monday,” Laney said as a drumroll shattered the air. It was followed up with a pounding bass that rocked the foundations.