by Amanda Ashby
“I like it, too,” she whispered. “But St. Clair is my home. Everyone here knows me. After you leave…there would be talk. I’m tired of being defined by my past. I’m already Laney the widow. I don’t want to become Laney the woman Adam Fitzpatrick once slept with.” She sucked in a breath, willing him to understand how exhausting it was to always be at the receiving end of everyone’s sympathy.
“There’s only one person I want in my bed. You. Not your entire town.” Their eyes locked, and the low growl sent shockwaves along her skin.
The heat of his body burned through her.
They could really do this. It could work.
“I’d like that,” she said as he dragged her toward him. “We could try a fling. I mean…it is spring.”
“Spring.” His voice was a low rumble as his mouth found hers. “My favorite season.”
…
“You do know that smiling through a birthing video is a little creepy, right?” Jessica glanced over from her spot on Laney’s pink velvet sofa. “What’s put you in such a good mood?”
“The miracle of life,” Laney promptly replied just as the baby’s head crowned. Oh. Ouch. She flinched. There was a small chance she hadn’t been paying too much attention up until now. Adam’s fault. Just like it had been his fault she’d sold tulips instead of dahlias and about a million other mistakes.
And still she couldn’t stop smiling.
It had been three glorious days since they’d slept together, and it kept getting better. Familiar heat pooled in her belly.
“Brett’s going to feel like a total wimp now. When he watched this last night, he almost threw up. I got a foot massage to apologize for putting me in such a terrible situation.”
“Your husband’s definitely a keeper.”
“He is, isn’t he?” Jessica gave her stomach a thoughtful rub. “In five weeks, this will be gone, and we’ll have a baby.”
“See, the miracle of life,” she repeated. Her sister-in-law had been through so much, and she’d come through, not just surviving but thriving. “You’re going to make a beautiful mom.”
“I’ll have to, to make sure their beautiful aunt doesn’t outshine me,” she said, her eyes misting up. “Which reminds me. I wanted to ask you something.”
“What is it?” she cautiously asked, since the last conversation that had started this way had ended in a blind date.
“We’d love for you to be at the birth with us.”
“Are you serious?”
“Of course, dummy. I wouldn’t ask otherwise. I can’t imagine you not being there. It’s why I brought the DVD over. To make sure you’re not a fainter.”
Hope and love swelled in her chest as she gave Jessica a grateful smile. “I might need to watch it one more time to be clear, but I’d love to be there.”
“Thanks, and I’m sorry you didn’t get the farm. There will be others. You’ll get what you want, Laney. I just know it.”
“I hope so,” she said. The panic of last week had gone. It was only a fling; why not just enjoy it?
“Now I need to pee, then go home to my husband and make sure he isn’t freaking himself out with birthing clips on YouTube.” She hauled herself up from the sofa. After their farewells, Laney flipped open her laptop and smiled.
She had Jessica and her growing family, a happy itch, and an amazing business. For the first time in five years, things felt different. Like anything was possible.
Chapter Thirteen
“There are three ways to know if the relationship will last. Do you trust them? Do they trust you? And do you constantly picture them naked?” Blue Moon
Spring in St. Clair was something else. A violet filter covered the endless sky, and insects buzzed as the gravel crunched under Adam’s feet. His muscles protested, but he kept going, determined to get in a run after a long day at his computer. In between the writing, he’d been fielding calls from his agent. The new book was going to auction in eight countries. He hadn’t even finished it yet. But after years in literary hell, it was a relief.
He turned the corner, and the Belles came into view, accompanied by the sound of a crashing cymbal. Birds from a nearby tree flew up into the air like an explosion. A second rolling crash followed. A dog howled. Cal’s drumming hadn’t improved. Just gotten louder. The other reason he’d gone for a jog.
“Adam, over here,” Sam called out, and he swiveled around. The three friends were spread out on a picnic mat all holding wineglasses.
“Hey.” He jogged over. He’d often found the three of them catching up either in Laney’s oasis of a courtyard or out by the water. Mainly the latter, since Cal had increased his practice time. Violet appeared from behind the picnic basket and nudged his leg. He stopped to scratch her head and stole a glance at Laney, enjoying seeing her during the daylight hours instead of at night, hidden away where no one could find out about them.
Her cheeks had colored to a soft rose that matched her sundress and the flower tucked behind her ear. A tiny wisp of purple silk peeked out from the strap of her dress, and his body went on high alert as heat built in his veins. He looked forward to seeing that in more detail later on.
“Join us.” Paige waved an extra wineglass at him. “Then we won’t feel guilty you’re exercising while we’re boozing.”
“Plus, we have snacks,” Sam said just as a drumroll echoed out. “And earbuds.”
“Are you sure we should be keeping him from his book?” Laney chimed in, faint worry lines spreading out around her mouth.
A reminder it was just a fling.
That the tiny silken strips of underwear were a limited-time offer.
His good mood faded, and he caught her warning look.
“Thanks, but I’d better keep going,” he quickly said and left. The thud of Cal’s bass drum accompanied him as he jogged around to the back of the bookstore. He took the stairs two at a time as Britney played out.
“Yup,” he answered, not bothering to slow down.
“What? I don’t warrant real words now?” Ryan complained from the other end. “Not even a ‘Good to hear from you. Sorry I’ve been ignoring all your calls’?”
“Were you always this needy?”
“Absolutely,” Ryan answered. “So, what’s up, little brother? Why the radio silence?”
“Busy. Lots of writing.” And sex. He kicked off his sneakers and dragged his T-shirt over his head, juggling the phone in the process.
“You really need to get a life. I’ll get El to set you up with someone when you’re home.”
“Because that’s not weird.”
“Weird is this hermit thing you have going on. Aren’t you sick of living like a bachelor?”
“I am a bachelor,” Adam reminded him. “Can we drop it?”
“I’m worried about you. You should be back here. Getting out and meeting people. Not stuck in a small town writing a book and—” His brother started to laugh. “Hell. That’s why you’ve been off the grid. You have met a woman.”
“I have indeed. Her name’s Tilly, and she drives a pink hearse,” he said in a light voice, not quite sure why he didn’t want to tell his brother about Laney. Lie. He knew damn well why. Because he didn’t want Ryan to ask him questions that he couldn’t answer. Like what would happen when it was time to leave.
“Is that the one who roped you into clearing out someone’s house?” Ryan sounded like he was frowning. “Or the one who made you say a password before you could buy a pie? I can’t keep up with that weird town.”
“It’s not weird.” Adam prickled. “It’s refreshing. People care about their neighbors here.”
“I rest my case,” Ryan retorted. “The sooner you’re back home, the better. And speaking of home, I had a few drinks with the boys the other day. You’re messing up our Monday night game, not to mention that we had tickets for a concert las
t week.”
Adam swallowed. So far, he’d been doing a very good job of ignoring his other life. He’d arranged for a cleaner to go into the apartment once a week, and his business manager had kept his finances running smoothly, but there were a slew of social engagements he’d been forced to cancel, and there were more coming up, including the charity auction.
“You’ll cope.” He winced, not wanting to admit he was living on borrowed time. “And speaking of which, there’s someone at the door. Probably one of my many new friends.”
“There’s no one at the door. Stop changing the subject. Tell me who—”
“Bye.” He tossed his phone onto the sofa and marched over to the shower. The cool water pounded against his body, and he shut his eyes, trying to shake off the unwanted annoyance flooding his veins. It shouldn’t bother him that she wanted privacy.
They’d discussed it. He’d caused her ten years of worry, thanks to the damn book; he wouldn’t risk potentially humiliating her again.
Except why would she be humiliated?
Because she thought people would judge her for sleeping with him? Or was it something else?
That she doesn’t trust me—
A scuttling sound rang out, and Violet’s scruffy face appeared in his bathroom. Then Laney stepped in, wearing the kind of underwear that definitely didn’t belong under the good-girl dress she had on ten minutes earlier. He’d been right about the purple silk, tiny wisps of fabric barely hiding anything.
He fumbled for the faucet to stop the water. It was still light outside. Paige or Sam or anyone who’d been walking past could have seen her going through the back door of the bookstore.
“Don’t turn it off,” she said in a low voice, and his entire body responded. “I thought I’d join you.”
“What happened to hiding this?” he said, the sting of rejection still digging at him.
“I told them I had a commission I needed to finish,” she said before toying with a strand of her hair. “I’m sorry about what happened out there. I panicked.”
“About what? Did you think I’d sit down and start giving everyone a play-by-play of what we did last night?” The words came out as a growl, and she flinched.
“I’m sorry. My logical brain knows you wouldn’t, but it seemed to be missing in action when I spoke. Are you mad?”
His animosity faded as his eyes slid along her body, taking in her curves. His pulse quickened. “It’s hard to be mad when you’re wearing no clothes. Is that how you always apologize?”
“No.” She shook her head as the hint of a smile played on her mouth. “You looked hot out there. I thought you might need a hand washing.”
“Is that so?” He crossed the floor, leaving only inches between them. She let out a soft moan.
“Seems I have a thing for sweaty joggers.”
“Good to know.” He took her hands, still not moving.
“You sure you don’t mind?”
“Mind having a shower with you?” His mouth crashed into hers, tasting her lips, her body pressed against him. His pulse quickened. “Sorry, what was the question?”
“No idea,” she murmured, returning the kiss. “But that was the right answer.”
His fingers grazed the lace of the silken bra, and need pounded through him. He pressed his mouth onto her burning skin, lifted her up, and carried her back into the shower.
…
Whoever invented alarms needed to be arrested. Laney groaned and fumbled for her phone to hit snooze. She hardly ever slept in; then again, she hardly ever stayed up half the night exploring the divine hotness that was Adam Fitzpatrick. A possible downside to having a fling. Next to her, he moved, his leg grazing hers, sending a warm sensation flooding through her.
Totally worth it.
The shrill buzz sounded out again. This time, she opened her eyes. It wasn’t her alarm at all. A text message blinked on the screen. She groaned and reached for the handset to check the time. Five thirty.
Adam shifted, and his arm automatically snaked around her torso, sending heat out in all directions. The text was from Pete.
Had to spend the night in the ER with Sheila. Her blood pressure spiked. Sorry, I can’t do the wedding today.
She wriggled into a sitting position.
Poor Sheila. Give her my love. Forget about today. I’ll be fine.
“Problem?” Adam mumbled, his voice still foggy with sleep, his trailing hand resting on her stomach.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you. Pete’s wife is sick,” she said, trying to get her brain into gear. Adam opened an eye and leaned on one elbow, his focus on her.
“Hell. I hope she’s okay.”
“Me too. She’s got type 1 diabetes. She manages it really well, but sometimes there are complications. They’re at the hospital now.”
“Sounds like the best place to be,” Adam agreed, then widened his eyes. “Your wedding?”
“Yeah.” Laney rubbed her brow. “I can see if Brett could help, or India, though the frame’s pretty heavy. Actually, India’s dad might be able to—”
Adam pulled her down, his mouth silencing her. The warmth of his breath and the light graze of his stubble did wicked things to her stomach as his tongue probed her mouth. He finally broke away, his eyes holding hers.
“I’m submitting an application.”
“Application?” she panted, her brain still not functioning properly.
“To help.”
She stiffened in his arms. “I couldn’t.”
“Why not?” Hurt flickered in his eyes.
“Because—” She broke off, trying to come up with reasons. And there were many. So many. Unfortunately, none of them appeared. “What if people saw us?”
“You mean what if they saw your neighbor helping you out with a job because your regular guy was taking care of his sick wife?” he said in a light voice, but it still made her flinch after she all but dismissed him when Paige and Sam had wanted him to join their picnic.
“That’s not what I meant,” she said quickly.
“Good, because I think I’d earn plenty of BS points if I did help. And before you ask, Sam assured me I’m already in the system. You could even stamp my BS timecard.”
She laughed despite herself. “You know there’s no timecard, right?”
“Stop. Next you’ll say there’s no secret handshake.” He kissed her again, this time harder. Longing fizzed and snapped through her entire body, and she melted into him. “Let me help. It will be entirely fling-free. You can call me Pete, if it makes it easier.”
“I’ve seen you naked. I don’t think any good could come of calling you that.” She gasped as his fingers explored her thighs. Her breath caught as delicious thrills raced around her entire body. “What about your writing?”
“It’s going like a bullet train. I can take a day off to spend time doing whatever florists do at weddings,” he said in a husky voice, planting a trail of kisses down her arm. “You don’t need to do everything alone, Laney.”
The world shimmered. No. She should say no. This fling kept changing goalposts. She’d slept over at his place every night, cooked with him, laughed with him. And now he wants to help with my business.
His kisses had made their way down to her stomach, and there was a wicked gleam in his eye. It would be far too easy to get used to this.
“If you’re sure.”
“I am,” he said as a smile formed on his beautiful mouth. His trailing fingers burned her skin. Molten heat pooled in her belly. “I won’t let you down.”
“What happened to it being fling-free while we’re working?” she managed to say as he moved back up her body until his mouth once again claimed hers. His lips were hot and urgent.
“What time do we start?” he finally growled.
“In an hour,” she whispered, bare
ly able to focus on anything but the sensation of his skin against hers.
“In that case, I’d better get it all out of my system now.”
This time, when he kissed her, she forgot her own name.
“It’s perfection.” Robin, the wedding planner, looked up at the two huge frames hanging over the main tables. Adam had put them together and hoisted them up. He’d kept them low enough so she could work, threading through pine needles, silvery eucalyptus leaves, trailing evergreens, creamy roses, and her beloved branches.
After the frames had been raised to their full height, the catering staff had moved the tables into place for Laney to dress them with thick, waxy green leaves and blush-colored peonies.
And now it was done. Her arms ached, and the familiar charge of adrenaline that always accompanied her when she completed a big job buzzed through her.
She took one more photograph and rolled her shoulders. The bride and groom would arrive in two hours, but she always liked to leave with plenty of time. It was their day, not hers.
“I’m glad you like it. Please tell Louisa and Tim I wish them happiness—and the wreaths will last three weeks as long as they spritz them.”
“Will do. Also, I’ll call Monday. I have a couple from Portland who loved the feature wall you did last month. They’re excited to discuss a fall wedding.”
“Sounds wonderful.” Laney nodded as Adam walked into the barn. He’d been carrying her toolboxes and cuttings back to the work van.
Robin’s phone beeped. The wedding planner gave her an apologetic smile. “Sorry. I’d better head back,” she said and disappeared out of the barn.
“Let me guess. She loved it?” Adam joined her; close, but not too close. Just like he’d promised. In fact, throughout the day, he’d been amazing. He’d listened carefully to everything she’d said and brought her box after box of branches and leaves as she worked her way across the frame, never complaining about how long it was taking or even when she had to redo an entire section because it didn’t feel right.
