Once in a Blue Moon

by Amanda Ashby

  Damn. Her panicked look hadn’t been about him at all. She’d just been worried about her sister-in-law. Her fists were clenched tightly, and he reached for them, wrapping his fingers around her hands until he could feel some of the tension in her easing. She gave him a watery smile.

  “It’s going to be okay. Just try not to panic,” he said, letting go of her hands to push a stray strand of hair out of her eyes. “You know she’s got a hormone factory going on there, right? Apparently, the progesterone spikes from the first trimester are like having valium. Now she is in her third trimester she’s probably exhausted on top of everything else.”

  Laney blinked, the tears still glistening in her eyes. “Really? How do you know?”

  His hand fell down to his side, and he stiffened. Was it International Act Without Thinking Day? She was looking at him now, but he studied the wall.

  “Is it about Eloise and Ryan?” she finally asked, voice soft.

  He rubbed his brow. He never talked about what happened. Not with anyone but Eloise. And even that wasn’t by choice.

  So, why did I say it?

  Because she’d been crying. And he hadn’t liked it.

  The sensible thing to do would be to change the subject.

  “Not exactly,” he finally said. So much for sensible.

  She sucked in a sharp breath, her whole body going stiff. “I didn’t mean to pry. If this is personal… You don’t have to explain anything.”

  He studied his fingers. “El had a miscarriage when we were together. It was early. We’d only known for a few weeks. But before it happened, I read a book or two on pregnancy.”

  Her mouth fell open, the shock clear in her eyes, but she didn’t speak.

  Silence sat between them. Not uncomfortable. Just there.

  Finally, she moved closer and ran a finger along his cheek. He shuddered as heat slammed into him.

  “That’s why they came down here, wasn’t it? To see how you were taking the baby news?”

  No point hiding it. Besides, Laney had a habit of seeing him at his worst. He slowly nodded.

  “When I didn’t go back to L.A., they put two and two together and got ‘freaked out ex-husband-slash-brother.’ It was understandable, if misguided. I’m happy for them.”

  “Still, it must have been hard. That could have been you.” Her voice skittered across his skin as the empty space in his chest throbbed.

  “It’s not so bad. I guess some things aren’t meant to be,” he said in a cool voice before catching the glint of tears in the corner of her eyes. He winced. He’d been trying to make her feel better, and instead he’d made it worse. “Laney, I’m sorry. I didn’t even think about you and Simon. Did you…want a family?”

  Silence filled the space between them, and Laney took a long, shuddering breath before finally looking up at him.

  “We thought we’d have more time.” Her eyes were shrouded with grief, and he rolled his shoulders as it hit him what a mess this was becoming.

  They both had so much baggage. Baggage filled with pain and memories. Laney with her dead husband. The one she still loved. The one who was born and bred in this town.

  And me? Still a hack trying to fit in somewhere.

  Yes, everyone was nice to him, but they were nice to every single tourist who passed through the place. It’s probably what kept it afloat during the winter months. Once he was gone, he’d just become an amusing footnote in the town history.

  In Laney’s history.

  He got to his feet. “Bet you regret coming around now.”

  “Not at all.” She stood up beside him. Her eyes were clouded, but she pressed her mouth to his. The kiss was long and deep. “I meant what I said. I missed you. You haven’t even told me how the auction went.”

  “Later,” he said as need thundered through him and he cradled her face, her skin soft and warm under his touch. He wanted to belong somewhere, with someone. In the back of his mind, he knew they should talk, figure things out. But as her arms wrapped around him, it didn’t matter. Tomorrow wasn’t going anywhere. He kissed her back.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “There was this one time Elle dreamed of dancing under an Italian sky. Three days later, we were in Rome as violins played. Sure, so it rained, but that’s not the point. If you love her, let her know.” Blue Moon

  “So, here it is.” Laney’s client spread out her arms to show off the room. Michelle owned an art gallery in Portland but had bought the sleek house just outside of St. Clair almost three years ago. She only spent a few weeks at a time there but always came into the store and bought carloads of flowers to fill up the space.

  Now Laney could see why.

  “I think I could fall in love with this wall.” She ran her hand over the exposed concrete. The motley gray surface was streaked with flecks of white and black. So many imperfections all coming together to make it beautiful.

  “I’m so pleased. What do you think? Would it be better to just use foliage and no flowers?” Michelle asked. Laney already had several sketches in her pad, all involving weaving foliage in and out of one of Pete’s frames.

  She was about to flip to the right page when she noticed at tiny crack just near the top of the wall. It reminded her of the rocky summits that she often foraged in, and, unbidden, a tiny dazzleberry bush came into her mind. She’d always loved the small raspberry flowers that clung to stony outcrops in the surrounding hills.

  A whole wall of the compact plants blazed in her mind, and she swallowed. It was so different from what Michelle was expecting. And it would be so much more work than she had time to do. But her fingers twitched as if longing to get started. To do my art. Adam’s words filled her with confidence as adrenaline raced through her.

  “Actually,” she said. Her hands shook as she reached for her pencil so she could start sketching. “I had something else in mind. I’m not sure if you’ve ever been hiking behind Beckett’s Hill, but there’s a rocky outcrop, and—”

  “Oh, Laney.” Michelle’s eyes glittered with excitement as her mind seemed to grasp what Laney was saying. “I know those flowers. You’re a genius. And it’s not like anything I’d envisioned.”

  “You really like it?” Laney said once the sketch was done and she’d gone through it more thoroughly with her client.

  “I wanted something fresh and exciting, and that’s exactly what this is. I love it. The party’s next Tuesday, and lots of my out-of-state customers are coming. It’s kind of a big deal. Can you fit me into your schedule?”

  “Absolutely.” Her mind spun with the logistics. Pete’s wife had made a full recovery, and India had been dying to work on bigger installations. If they asked India’s mother to cover the shop for the day, they could do it.

  “You’re a star,” Michelle said as her phone rang. She studied the screen. “I have to take this, but I’ll call tomorrow, and we can get everything hammered out.”

  “Sounds great.” She packed up her sketchbook and the small stepladder she always took with her and walked out to her car. She called Pete, then spoke to India, who let out an excited squeal and promised her mom would look after the store.

  Laney laughed. “That’s great. All the same, let’s ask her first.”

  “You’re so old-school. If you want something, you have to go for it. Even if she can’t do it, I’ll find someone else who can,” India assured her.

  Why didn’t I have that attitude at twenty-one?

  Then again, Rufus had it, and he was eighty years old. Clearly it wasn’t an age thing. It was a Laney George thing. Still, she was getting there now. Her business. Her life. Adam. She imagined his face when she told him what had happened. The pride that would gleam in his eyes. Intoxicating.

  “Oh, and I’ve got another date,” India continued in a chirpy voice. “Would you hate me if I locked up in twenty minutes? Violet’s asleep
in her basket. I can take her upstairs and feed her before I go.”

  “Go on your date. I’ll be home in an hour. Violet will be fine.” A slither of guilt went through her. She’d been leaving India in the store for longer and longer stretches of time.

  “You’re the best,” India said and finished the call.

  As Laney drove, the sky, which had been a palette of soft blues and whites, darkened, and a fevered flash of lightning split through it, illuminating the water to her left. A rumble of thunder followed, along with hammering jets of rain.

  She usually loved spring showers, but today it meant she’d have to postpone her plans to forage for foxgloves.

  She flicked on her wipers and slowed her speed as more thunder rumbled. The rain pounded against her skin as she climbed out of the car and hurried to her back door. The rich, earthy scents of her garden followed her inside.

  Rivulets of water ran down her neck, leaving her clammy. She shrugged off her denim jacket and hung it on the rack with her work aprons. The fabric of her dress clung to her legs, and water pooled on the floor.

  She did a quick check of the orders, tweaked a display in the window, and headed upstairs. Violet usually appeared at the top, but there was no sign of her.

  Her hand dragged at the zipper of her dress. A shower first, then a glass of wine to celebrate her latest commission. She kicked off her shoes, then stopped with a jolt as she reached the living room.

  Adam was stretched out on her pale pink sofa, looking far too rugged in his jeans, stubbled jaw, and crumpled shirt. His eyes were shut, and Violet lay on his chest, curled into a ball, sound asleep.

  They’re waiting for me.

  Longing lodged in her throat, and her shoulders sagged as if finally admitting just how lonely she’d been. Of how much she’d begun to dread walking into an empty room day after day. Yet she’d kept doing it because there hadn’t been a choice.

  Until now.

  Adam’s chest rose and fell, and Violet made a tiny snuffling sound in her sleep.

  A pile of headshots lay on the floor. Adam. His eyes were bright, and a smile hovered on his mouth. His scrawling signature ran across the bottom of each photograph, and next to them was a newspaper cutting.

  She picked it up.

  Twice in a Blue Moon.

  After a series of flops, bestselling author Adam Fitzpatrick seems to be back to his shining best. His new book, The Thirteenth Life of Myles Hammer, due to be released next year, has already sold in a dozen countries and has now been snapped up by Hollywood…

  There was a different photograph of Adam. His hair was longer, and his arm was around a beautiful actress whom Laney vaguely recognized.

  The languid desire that had been rising in her belly dissipated, leaving her skin cold from the rain that had drenched her.

  Why did she keep forgetting this whole other side to him? He acted like he belonged in St. Clair, but he didn’t. Not really. He had a completely different life. He did charity auctions, had his books turned into movies.

  And then there was the revelation about Eloise’s miscarriage.

  There had been real grief in his voice, and with a jolt it hit her how little she really knew him. Did he still want children? Laney stopped moving. After Simon died, that wasn’t a thought she’d ever allowed herself to have. Especially with someone else. It was yet another tangled emotion that she didn’t dare tug at in case she unraveled completely.

  She couldn’t go back down that dark hole again.

  Suddenly, the room felt too small. Her brow pounded with the start of a headache. Everything was such a mess. He was leaving. He would always be leaving. After all, he’d told her how important his career was. It was why he’d moved to Boston and why he was in St. Clair. Trying to prove he could do it.

  And now he’d succeeded.

  I wasn’t enough for him to stay.

  And she would be left as Laney. Orphan, widow, Nina. And now Adam Fitzpatrick’s fling.

  She clutched at the unzipped sundress to stop it from falling to the ground.

  “Hey,” he said in a groggy voice, his ever-changing eyes slowly opening. His mouth pressed into a soft smile. “I’m guessing you didn’t expect to find Goldilocks asleep on the sofa.”

  “I didn’t mean to wake you,” she said, trying not to be drawn in to the magnetic pull of his presence. At the sound of her voice, Violet looked up, huge chocolate eyes wide. The little dog nuzzled Adam’s chest and daintily climbed down and hurried over. Laney scratched her velvety ears.

  He sat up and rubbed his face. “Sorry about the breaking and entering. Violet was barking and scratching the wall. I could hear it next door. I think the storm scared her, so I came by to check up on her. I brought some work, but we both fell asleep.”

  Double hell.

  Now his niceness extended to taking care of her scared dog?

  “Thanks. And congratulations. I just read the article. It’s going to be a movie?” She shivered and wrapped her arms around her chest. One of the straps of her dress fell down over her shoulder.

  “It’s just the rights. Doesn’t mean it will get made,” he said, sleep-filled eyes sweeping over her. “Don’t let me stop the strip show.”

  Familiar heat ran through her. “I’m wet. I wanted to get straight in the shower.”

  “Need a hand?” he said, not moving from the sofa. “I have a good shower next door. Really great towels.”

  Up until now, they’d never done more than kiss in her own apartment.

  Because she didn’t know how to deal with Adam and Simon in the same room together. Lie. It was because she had to protect herself. Had to set boundaries. Last time Adam had left her, Simon had come into her life and picked up the pieces. He’d saved her from the darkness. But Simon wasn’t here anymore. He couldn’t help if she fell again.

  Her eyes raked over his firm chest and inviting mouth. Her panic faded. It was still okay. It was a fling. In one week, Adam would be gone.

  She could still buy her flower farm. Nothing had to change. They’d make the most of their time together, and when it was over, they’d say goodbye. No one would know, and no one would be hurt.

  I will still be safe.

  She let the dress fall to the ground, then turned and walked to her bathroom. She stopped only to glance over her shoulder to make sure he was following.

  …

  “You’re late,” Jessica said as Laney raced into the waiting room.

  “I’m sorry.” She hugged her sister-in-law. With a month to go, the glow of pregnancy had faded just a little, replaced by delicate indigo smudges under her eyes. “I was with a client. There was a breakdown on the road coming back.”

  She didn’t add that she’d been late for her first appointment because Adam had dragged her back into bed, and she’d been playing catch-up all day.

  Including leaving my panicked sister-in-law alone in the waiting room.

  “I was worried something had happened to you.” Jessica’s lip trembled, and she gripped Laney’s hand.

  “Oh, honey. I didn’t mean to scare you. What’s going on?”

  “There’s a chance I’m losing my mind. Brett broke the green-and-orange coffee cup this morning, and I couldn’t stop crying.”

  “Wait.” Laney blinked. “You hate those cups and only kept them because they were a wedding present.”

  “I know.” Tears streamed down her face. “They’re the worst. But now one’s broken—”

  “We’ll get a new one. Exactly the same.” Laney gave her another hug and gently rubbed her back. “There are only four more weeks to go.”

  “Four weeks until I have to squeeze out a human being that is clearly not designed to be squeezed out,” Jessica wailed, chest heaving. “I’m so scared.”

  “I know you are.” Laney smoothed back her hair and searched for wor
ds to make it okay. None came to mind.

  “No. You don’t understand. I’m scared of everything. When you weren’t here, I thought you’d had an accident. Last night, when Brett walked to the kitchen, I thought he limped and was convinced he had cancer. I miss him, Laney.” Jessica broke off, and more tears clung to her dark lashes. Lashes so like her brother’s. Laney’s lip trembled.

  “I miss him, too.”

  “Sorry to interrupt. Doctor Greely’s ready to see you now,” the receptionist said in a gentle voice as she tapped at the box of tissues on the counter.

  “Thanks.” Jessica took a shuddering sob and fumbled to wipe her tears away. Then she paused and squeezed Laney’s hand. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  “I’m not going anywhere,” she said, swallowing down her guilt. She should’ve been here sooner.

  …

  The book was finished. In the past, Adam had always celebrated with a beer or three. But in what he considered a very grown-up move, he’d come to the gym. Mainly because it was ten in the morning and it was a slippery slope. Not to mention that when he’d gone to the opening, Jacob had somehow talked him into buying a one-year membership. Something about what great publicity it would be to have a celebrity member.

  What he hadn’t counted on was that going to the gym for the first time in forever would involve pain. Lots of pain.

  So much for thinking Jacob was a nice guy.

  More like a medieval torturer.

  He flicked on the shower faucet and stepped into the private stall. Steaming water pounded his body, and life slowly returned. A Miley Cyrus song rang out of his phone, which was sitting on top of his clothes. Eloise.

  All her calls lately involved her complaining about Ryan’s outrageous baby gifts he kept buying. He’d call her back later. He flicked off the shower and grabbed a towel.

  “Hey, Doctor Josh, you got a minute?” someone said from the next stall. Adam’s eyes widened. He’d had fans try and talk to him in the restroom, but this was a first.