by Amanda Ashby
“You really don’t know, do you?” Eloise said as a low-pitched cry rang out in the background. Laney had been around her little niece enough to know someone had just woken up from a nap. “Feeding time. I have to go, but do me a favor, read the book again. This time properly. And then go talk to my ex-husband and sort this mess out.”
The line went dead, and Laney slumped against the bench.
What was she saying?
Of course Eloise was Elle. The whole world knew it. He’d been madly in love with her. Whereas Nina was just a crazy ex. And since, as far as she knew, there had only been her and Eloise, there was no one else Elle could have been—
That’s not how I saw you.
She froze. No. She was Nina. She couldn’t be Elle. It didn’t make sense.
Read the book again. This time properly.
She let out a soft gasp as her hands trembled. Violet appeared in the back room, closely followed by India, who was clutching at two coffee cups.
“Laney, are you in here? Why’s the closed sign up?”
She slowly blinked and looked around. Somehow the room seemed different. The competing scents and the vibrant colors of the zinnias she’d been working with caused her senses to reel. She needed to go. Right now.
“Long story. I-I…I have to see Paige.”
“Let me guess: they’ve finally set a wedding date, and we’re doing the flowers?” India grinned, but Laney shook her head.
“No. I need to buy a book.”
…
“Walk me through this.” Sam rubbed her brow the following afternoon as she held up the wine bottle. Laney put her hand over her own glass. She needed a clear head if she wanted to straighten everything out. “You’re Nina and Elle? How does that even work?”
“He told me he took artistic license. I guess this is part of it,” Laney said, still not sure what to make of the book she’d spent the previous night reading. Blue Moon. The first time she’d read it, the horror of seeing her life on the page had blinded her to anything but Nina. She’d never stopped to pay attention to the too-perfect-to-be-true Elle.
Elle who went dancing in the rain, who ran off to get married in New York, who loved openly and with passion.
“And you never noticed before?” Sam swallowed a sip of wine.
“I only read it once,” she admitted.
“Here’s another passage.” Paige, who still had the book in her hand, looked up. “Listen to this. ‘Elle’s laugh was gentle. Lyrical like a lullaby that sinks into your mind before you even know it’s there. And then she gave me that shy smile and gently shut the door of our tiny apartment. The walls rattled as the ten thirty-six train sped past, but all I could hear, see, feel was her.’”
Sam put her glass down. “Laney, didn’t you tell me your old apartment was right by a freight line?”
She nodded as Paige carefully marked the page.
Eloise hadn’t been lying.
The clues had been in there, sprinkled throughout the book. Parts of her she’d forgotten all about. Things they’d done together. Things they’d said.
Horror filled her. She’d accused him of bringing out the worst in her. But instead, he’d been the only one to see all of her. She wasn’t an orphan or a widow to him. Not Elle or Nina. She was Laney.
He saw all of me…and I pushed him away.
“So, now that you know, what are you going to do? Does it change anything?”
She reached in for the jumbled mass of emotions that had clung to her heart like an open, pulsing wound. For so long she’d been terrified to even venture into the memories, scared that they’d destroy her once again. But, as she took a deep breath and tentatively nudged one of the strands, it crumpled into ash, like something that had lived too long.
Like something that was no longer needed.
It changed everything.
Her throat ached.
All this time, he’d seen her more clearly than she’d seen herself.
Because she’d only seen the parts of her she liked, but he’d seen all the parts. Both sides.
It was like her world had been unraveled and was now being put back together stitch by stitch, making something new.
For so long, she’d acted like the version of Laney George she thought the world wanted to see. Sometimes she even acted like Nina. But, if she wanted to fix it, she needed to do things differently.
What would Elle do?
A smile formed on her lips. “Can I get the sweatshirt back?”
“Of course.” Paige clapped her hands and darted into her storeroom. She returned with the faded blue sweatshirt that had been part of Laney’s past for so long. She touched the worn fabric and stood up. She had to figure out a way to bring it into the present.
“Aren’t you the most precious thing in the world.” A couple of hours later Laney pressed another kiss on her tiny niece’s perfect cheek. Lily answered by shutting her eyes, her head falling farther into the curve of Laney’s shoulder. Gently, she carried her over to the crib and carefully laid her down.
“That’s it. You’re now the official sleep whisperer.” Jessica fussed over the blankets and gave her daughter a kiss. She set the baby monitor and nodded for Laney to follow her through to the next room. She patted the sofa. “Let’s have the talk about Adam. It’s time.”
“H-how did you know there’s anything to talk about?” She wove her fingers together, trying to swallow down the nervous energy. It was the same problem she’d always had: trying to make her two worlds fit together. But for it to work, she had to be honest.
“We’re family. I know these things.” Jessica gave her a soft smile. “I’m sorry it’s taken me so long.”
Tears prickled the corners of her eyes. “You have nothing to be sorry for. Simon’s your brother. You thought I was betraying him. It’s nothing I haven’t felt myself.”
“It doesn’t make it right.” Jessica’s voice turned fierce. Angry. But not at Laney. “I got to love Simon without having to give anything up. Or anyone. I can’t imagine not being with Brett. I shouldn’t have judged you for wanting that, too.”
Emotion swept over her. “Simon will always be the beautiful soul who brought me back to life. C-can I tell you the story of Adam Fitzpatrick?”
Jessica’s face faltered, but she collected herself and reached for Laney’s hand. “Yes. I’m ready.”
With her sister-in-law’s fingers wrapped in hers, Laney slowly told her about the first time they’d met, up to the breakup. How it had led her to Simon…and finally to when Adam crashed back into her world and she’d hidden up the cherry blossom tree. As she spoke, she once again tentatively felt for the pain, but the threads of her past dissolved and faded away. What had once seemed like a flaming-hot inferno was now nothing more than an empty space.
Jessica let out a soft cry once she finished. “The sweatshirt. It’s on the wall. Oh, Laney. I had no idea. I can take it down.”
“No.” She shook her head. “I finally get it. That shirt is me. Okay, not the stalking stuff, but the essence was me.”
“In the woods?” Jessica widened her eyes.
“Yup.” She nodded. “Including that.”
“And he’s waited for you all this time?”
Her head whirled as passages from the book kept pushing their way through into her mind. He had waited. Loving. Constant. With his gorgeous blue eyes, the ones she could never quite pick a color for. They were almost like—
The room went perfectly still as blinding clarity swept through her. It was so obvious. Right in front of her face the entire time, and yet until now she’d missed it.
His flower.
She bolted out to the garden. To the bush of myosotis that came up every year. The tiny flowers were the softest blue with a delicate dot of pale yellow in the middle. Forget-me-nots. Constant. Loving.
“Quite possibly.” She carefully picked a single flower and held it out in her palm. Petals like velvet against her skin. Something primal tugged in her gut, and she burst out laughing. Finally, she knew what to do!
“You’re starting to scare me.”
“Sorry.” She managed to stifle her laughter long enough to hug her beloved sister-in-law. “I’m not going to be able to make dinner tomorrow night.”
“Where are you going?”
“I’m going to tell Adam what his flower is. And hope it’s not too late.”
Chapter Twenty-One
“Proposing is a serious business. Don’t mess it up. Hot air balloon. Romantic location. Ring to make her go weak at the knees. Go big or go home.” Blue Moon
Adam dropped his keys onto the counter and grabbed a beer from the fridge. Then put it back again. Things were bad when he didn’t even want to drown his sorrows. Great. First the jog hadn’t worked, and now the alcohol wasn’t.
He made a growling noise and stalked out to the balcony. The butterscotch moon hung low in the sky, mirrored against the heavy dark waves that roiled in swirls, leaving a choppy trail of white caps.
He’d always loved this view. The ever-changing sea. Full of possibility. Always promising adventure and excitement. Now, just like everything else in life, it left him feeling caged and pissed off.
A cool wind whipped up, and he walked inside through the giant glass sliding doors Eloise had insisted on installing. His T-shirt caught on the handle, and the fabric tore. He swore. He hated those doors. Actually, apart from the view, he hated most of the apartment.
Or was it just since he’d returned from St. Clair?
Don’t answer that.
Still, next week the packers were arriving, and he’d be out of there. He hadn’t decided where he was going, but until then he’d check into a hotel. Stare at the walls.
An Ariana Grande song rang out, but he ignored it. Probably Ryan sending his fiftieth photo of the day. Adam loved his new nephew, but he wasn’t in the mood to speak to anyone.
He walked into his room, ripping off his ruined shirt as he went. He yanked open a drawer and frowned. It was empty. Okay, so laundry hadn’t been high on his to-do list lately, but there must be a clean shirt somewhere. He opened up the next drawer. Empty.
He marched to the ridiculously large walk-in closet. Nothing. No shoes. No clothing or belts. Just unused hangers.
What the hell?
That’s why his idiot brother had been calling. No doubt he thought it was some hilarious locker-room prank. To what? Steal his freaking clothes? Even by Ryan’s juvenile standard, this one was weird.
He yanked out another drawer, and his jaw dropped. There, sitting in the middle, was a single blue sweatshirt, old and faded but carefully folded.
What the—
He shook it out. The damn thing that had somehow changed the trajectory of his whole life. That still taunted him every time he looked at the book cover or went to an event.
“How am I doing?” a voice said from somewhere behind him. His heart slammed against his chest as incredulity rushed through him.
He spun around. Her auburn hair hung in silken waves around her face, and the sundress had been replaced by a pair of jeans. Her white blouse clung to her curves. She was holding an ugly sweater Eloise had given him last Christmas.
“What are you doing here?”
“In L.A. or in your house?” She hugged the sweater to her chest.
“Both,” he said before shaking his head. “Did you break in?”
She wrinkled her nose. “That had been the plan, but it turns out you have an excellent security system. Which is great in general, but not so great when you want to steal things. Eloise gave me her key.”
He rubbed his hand across his brow as too many questions crashed into his brain. Then a scruffy head appeared from somewhere beneath the sweater.
“You’re in my apartment with my clothes and a dog?”
“I figured she’d make a good accomplice. See. Black nail polish.” Laney held up a paw as if it would somehow explain everything. It didn’t. She didn’t move, her eyes fixated on his chest.
“I’m not entirely convinced this isn’t a dream. Can you help me out here?”
She gently lowered Violet to the ground. The little dog raced over and stretched out her paw.
“Hey, girl.” He shook it, familiar fur making him shiver. Violet let out a contented sniffle and then curled up on the torn shirt he’d thrown onto the floor. He stood back up, eyes locked on Laney’s.
“You said I didn’t fight for you.” The serene expression changed, and her chest rose and fell. “S-so I’m here. Fighting.”
“By stealing my clothes?”
“This is your fantasy, not mine, isn’t it?” she said in a soft voice. “You wrote a playbook on what you wished I’d done.”
Words failed him as his eyes locked in on hers. Her mouth trembled as she returned his gaze, unflinching. “I believe I said one sweater. Not an entire closet. And Laney, you’re not Nina.”
“The sweatshirt in your hand proves otherwise. You were right. I did steal it. Not on purpose. You left it behind when you moved to Boston, and I couldn’t bring myself to give it back.”
All this time? She’d kept it?
“It doesn’t mean you’re Nina. I swear that’s not what I thought.”
“I know.” Her voice shook. “I read the book again. I couldn’t see it before. I was too busy being angry. Hurt. Mad at you. Why didn’t you tell me I was also Elle?”
So she knew.
He ran a hand through his hair.
“I figured the less we talked about Blue Moon, the better. And I wasn’t sure you’d believe me. No one knows. Not even El—”
“Eloise was the one who told me to read it again. She knows.”
Of course she did. It shouldn’t even surprise him anymore.
“I don’t understand how that made you change your mind.”
“Because you weren’t the only one keeping secrets,” she said and sucked in a breath. Her legs were shaking.
“What secrets?” His voice was sharp.
“Simon wasn’t my first love. Nor will he be my last. He was there when I needed him most. I’ll never stop loving him, but I thought there was only room for one. That nothing like it could ever come around again. That—”
“That it only happened once in a blue moon?”
“Yes,” she admitted, eyes not leaving his. “But deep down, I knew it was a lie. That’s why I’m here. I love you, Adam. I hope you haven’t stopped waiting for me. Because I’m really not as nice and sweet as the world thinks. If you say no, then I’m going to keep all your clothes.”
His heart pounded. “That would be a pity, because I have this one T-shirt that makes my eyes pop. It would be a shame to deprive all the good folks of St. Clair of such a sight.”
She let out a soft gasp, and he stepped toward her, closing the distance. Her face was tilted up, eyes glittering with uncertain tears, her mouth trembling. She’d taken a risk.
On me.
Heat and longing bounced between them, tugging at his stomach like a cord. There were no words. Just need. He dragged her close, and his lips swept across hers. The kiss was hard, desperate, and deep. Everything that had built up over the last six torturous weeks.
The tension eased in his shoulders, and he finally stepped back. He cupped her chin. Her mouth twisted into a faint smile, and there she was. Both sides of her.
He kissed her again, softer this time. Sweeter. Like he was back in high school. Too scared and shy to know what the hell he was doing. It was almost as hot as the first kiss. Then again, every kiss felt like a first kiss. Because it was with her. The woman
he’d never gotten over, despite everything they’d both been through.
“Wow,” she whispered.
“Yeah to that,” he agreed, not letting go of her. “I have a vivid imagination, and if this is a dream, I’m going to be really pissed. Not to mention sexually frustrated.”
It earned him a soft laugh. “I’m right here.”
“I’m here, too.” He tightened his grip on her hand as he glanced over to his barren closet. “You really did all this?”
Her smile turned roguish. “You mean did I break and enter and steal from you? Sure did. I guess you bring out my wild side.”
“Hell, Laney. I’ve been going out of my mind.” He let out a long groan, then kissed her again, her arms snaking around him. She shuddered and pressed herself closer. Her silken hair brushed his chin, and her floral scent filled his nose.
“I was the one who messed this up. I was so scared you’d leave me that I couldn’t admit I loved you. It was like—” She broke off and took a shuddering breath. “It was like watching him die all over again.” Her eyes glittered with tears, but the familiar jealousy that had been digging at his gut had gone.
Replaced with understanding.
“I swear on that damn sweatshirt there’s room for Simon in our relationship. It’s been brought to my attention, by my brother of all people, that I’m rather spectacular when it comes to sharing.”
“Eloise?”
He nodded. “Ryan admitted they wouldn’t be together now if I hadn’t been able to adapt. Bit embarrassing, really. Especially when he started crying.”
“If he was crying, then you were, too. Don’t think I’ve forgotten what happened when you saw The Lion King.”
“Another reason to marry you. I can’t have word of that getting out to anyone. I’m an important author. My reputation would be in tatters.”
“M-marry me?” Her face flushed with confusion. Heat pounded through him as he dropped to one knee.
“You’re not the only one who can go over the top. I’m never leaving you. I made that mistake once. Not happening again. Wait…the ring… Damn. It was in the pocket of my jeans, which were stolen by this woman I know. Should I call the cops?”
