In Bloom: A Small Town Romance (Seasons of Highland Lakes Book 1)

by Nikki Blythe

  “All right. I love you, Neville.”

  I hesitated. “I love you, too, Faith.”

  Chapter Four

  Cedar

  I slid the key out of the lock and stepped away from the door. I fumbled as I tried to put my keys in my purse and almost didn’t manage it. I was so exhausted from the day of classes, but it didn’t help matters that I spent the day in a sort of fuzzy haze, giddy from meeting Neville. Some of my regular clients noticed, and one older lady even asked if I had found a new love because apparently, I was positively glowing.

  A good deal of my clients, and the town, knew about Gareth leaving me at the altar. It was a small town, so news traveled fast, and Gareth had been a prominent figure in the community, the son of a judge, and destined to be a judge himself one day.

  Because everyone knew about my romantic tragedy, many had been rooting for me to move on to greener pastures and find myself a man who would treat me right.

  Neville’s face came into mind, and I smiled at the thought of his deep laugh lines, and his green eyes. He had been so kind. Maybe meeting him was the break I was looking for in the romance department.

  Or not.

  I didn’t really have any desire to re-enter the dating world. It was a lot of work, and even more disappointment. I couldn’t face the thought of thinking I found my happily ever-after, only to be literally dumped on the altar. Not again. It was too much stress and anxiety and sadness to contend with. Besides, I had the yoga studio to think about. It wouldn’t do to fall in love with the first man that was kind to me—after making a mess of meeting me in the first place—and push the studio to the back burner.

  No, I wouldn’t pursue this feeling with Neville, for my own sake. And besides, who’s to say he was interested in me, anyway.

  Oh, I don’t know, said that tiny irritating voice that only pops up when you’re lying to yourself. Maybe the fact that he walked with you to work, despite looking dead on his feet. Maybe because he couldn’t stop staring at you.

  I groaned.

  No, I told myself. Not a chance.

  I started the long walk to my apartment, looking forward to the solitude of the cool night air. The nights would be warming up soon, and I wanted to enjoy the peace of a cool spring night before it would be too hot to enjoy properly.

  I made it to the next block before my phone chimed, and I froze in my tracks.

  Could it be Neville, already? He hadn’t texted me all day, but then neither had I texted him. Maybe it was just one of the girls. I didn’t know how I would react if it was him.

  I slid my phone from my purse, half-hoping and half-dreading what name I would see on the screen.

  I sighed with a mingled sense of relief and sadness when I saw it was a message from Kyra.

  “Stay right there,” it said.

  Confused, I just stood there.

  Suddenly, there was a honking of a car to my left, and Kyra, Elizabeth, and Ivy pulled up in Kyra’s car.

  “Get in, bitch,” Kyra winked. “We’re going drinking!”

  I rolled my eyes at her Mean Girls reference but did as I was told.

  “Can we stop at my house so I can take a quick shower and change into something more suitable for a bar?” I asked as I climbed into the back next to Ivy.

  Elizabeth sat up front with Kyra in the driver’s seat. They were all dressed to go out, and I remembered suddenly that it was our standing weekly appointment to go out and get drunk and eat good food.

  “Why would you want to shower?” Elizabeth asked. “You smell like mangoes and yumminess!”

  Kyra nodded assent as she pulled away from the curb. I noticed she was driving toward my apartment, anyway.

  “Yes, but with that delicious smell comes a whole lot of stickiness and a really good story!” I responded with a smile.

  “Oh, we need details!” Cried Ivy.

  “Did you finally get laid?” Kyra interjected.

  “No,” I laughed, and told them the story of meeting Neville, including the mess, the misunderstanding, and the swapping of numbers.

  All three of my friends about died laughing.

  “Yes, it was absolutely hilarious, girls,” I grumbled, though I was still smiling.

  “You have to admit,” Ivy said. “It is pretty funny. So, are you going to see him again?”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” I replied as the car went quiet.

  “Why not?” Kyra asked. “You wrote your personal number on the back of the card,” she pointed out.

  “Yeah, you must have done that for a reason,” Elizabeth chimed in.

  “Look, he’s nice, and I think we could get along really well, but I don’t know that I’m ready for all that again. It’s too soon.”

  “It’s been a year, babe. It’s okay to dip a toe into the pool, you know,” Kyra said, pulling up next to the curb in front of my apartment. “You don’t have to marry the guy, but you should pursue this and have some fun.”

  “Sure, I guess. Look, I’ll be right back, let me just get changed.”

  I hopped out of the car, thankful for the excuse not to discuss the matter any further, and ran past my out-of-commission car and through my front door.

  As I walked through the living room, I peeled my tank top and yoga pants off, and threw them to the side. I ran a brush through my hair and used a hot washcloth to cleanse any remaining smoothie from my skin. Then, I threw my favorite little black dress on, the one with a corset bodice, and slid into a pair of nude pumps.

  Freckles followed me throughout the house from the moment I walked through the door, so I stopped for a few moments to give him some scratches, before heading back to the living room.

  In the mirror hung by the coat rack, I applied some mascara and a peachy nude lip color, then ran back out to the car. It had to be a record. I’d only been inside five minutes.

  Thankfully, there was no more talk of my new acquaintance on the way over to our favorite Irish pub, though I was sure it was discussed while I was out of the car. Instead, we talked about a funny incident Elizabeth encountered at work, where she found her old boss and his new secretary having sex on the floor behind one of the shelves in the bookstore she owned.

  We all laughed as Kyra found a parking spot across the street from the entrance—Kyra had the eternal grace from the parking gods, I could have sworn it.

  There was no line, so we were able to get right in. That was the best part about living in a town like Highland Lakes, the population was small enough that you didn’t have to wait long for anything, but large enough that there was always entertainment to be had.

  We wound our way through the crowded pub to our usual table. Two men sat there, nursing pints of beer, but we sat down anyway. We had been going to that bar since high school, before it was called a pub and ID was required to enter, so we rightly considered it to be our table, and generally no one argued with us. They either enjoyed our company or moved on. This time, the men just moved on, leaving us to our table.

  I had to admit, I preferred it that way.

  “So,” Kyra began. “Tell us more about Neville. Did you happen to catch his last name? I wonder if I know him.”

  “I doubt it, he owns his own business, and I doubt it’s large enough that you would have worked there. Neville Wilson, according to his business card,” I responded.

  I pulled my phone from my purse and placed in face up on the table. No harm in keeping it close in case he decided to call or text. I had no intention of getting into a relationship with him, but that didn’t mean I had to be rude if he contacted me, right?

  “Yeah, I know a couple Wilsons, but they never talk about a Neville,” Kyra said.

  Kyra was a temp girl, that is, she worked as a temporary employee on behalf of one of the temp agencies in town. She had a deep-seated fear of commitment, and that extended to just about every aspect of her life, including her career. I vaguely remember career day in high school, where she had a panic attack in the middle of the gym as all the o
ptions came crashing down on her.

  “That’s good, that means he’s a self-started, and certainly not lazy,” Elizabeth said. “What does he do?” She asked.

  Before I could answer, a waitress approached and took our drink and dinner orders. I thought she must be new, because most of the other wait staff knew our orders by heart at this point. We were weekly regulars, and we also tended to order the same things every time we came in. It didn’t matter though, because we were easy to please and good tippers, so the staff liked us.

  Once we placed our orders, Ivy cleared her throat.

  “You should pursue this guy,” she said matter-of-factly.

  “Why?” I asked, slightly annoyed at this point.

  “Because he’s the first guy you’ve given your number to in years,” Ivy continued.

  She had affected her school marm voice, which I was sure was difficult to turn off, given that she taught second grade. She had this habit of occasionally talking to us like we were her students, and while sometimes it could be endearing, others it was downright obnoxious.

  “It was a moment of weakness,” I said defensively. “It didn’t mean anything!”

  “Sure, it did,” said Kyra, tossing her long brown braid behind her shoulder. “Look, you haven’t even thought about dating in ages, and now you’ve met him and you’re thinking about it again, aren’t you?”

  “Maybe I am, but that doesn’t mean I’m ready. And I don’t actually know this guy from Adam,” I breathed.

  “And yet you felt comfortable enough to hand out your number,” said Elizabeth.

  “Look,” I started as our waitress brought our drink orders to our table.

  A whiskey neat for Kyra, and old fashioned for Elizabeth, and a Manhattan for Ivy. I ordered a Mai Tai, because I loved the fruitier drinks. I took a small sip before continuing.

  “He was absolutely sweet, we made each other laugh, and he was incredibly handsome. He had these laugh lines, and his eyes sparkled when he smiled. He is surely a catch, but not for me. Obviously. See, he hasn’t even texted me, let alone called me,” I gestured to my phone, which had remained silent the whole time.

  Kyra pursed her lips at my phone.

  “That doesn’t mean anything. I bet he’s just busy. Or he’s one of those idiots who thinks that women expect a man to wait a certain period of time before contacting them.” She rolled her eyes. “Men aren’t all that bright,” she muttered bitterly.

  “That may be true,” I said quietly. “But that doesn’t change the fact that I can’t do anything unless he contacts me, and I don’t really want to talk about it anymore.”

  I spoke with a finality in my voice that made Kyra’s eyes narrow.

  She was my oldest friend. We met in first grade, so she was the one of of all three that could see when I was bullshitting.

  “Yeah, all right,” she said. “We’ll drop it for now, but not forever.”

  “Fine,” I said, trying to paste on a smile.

  As time went on, the girls started discussing their days at work, and it was determined that Elizabeth, with her sex find in the book stacks, had the most interesting day.

  My mind wandered, and I had to admit that meeting Neville had certainly rekindled some long dead part of me. I thought the whole thing was so silly, considering I’d barely just met him. I was drawn to him, though, like a moth to a flame. I couldn’t stop thinking about him, about the way his deep voice had soothed me. Having sticky goop covering my chest could have been the most mortifying thing ever, but he had remained calm, so I could maintain my composure.

  I kept glancing at my phone, and Kyra kept passing me knowing glances. I ignored her.

  After a couple rounds of drinks, the girls wandered to the dance floor, leaving me sitting at the table, lost in thought, and drunkenly munching on my onion rings. After a time, Elizabeth wandered over to me and giggling, asked why I wasn’t joining them.

  “I’m just not really in the mood for dancing. It was a long day,” I replied with a smile.

  “That’s the perfect excuse to drink and dance the night away, silly,” she laughed.

  I just shook my head and there was a brief moment of silence before Elizabeth’s slender hand shot out and snatched my phone. It happened so quickly I barely had time to gasp in shock.

  “What are you doing?” I asked in horror as she unlocked the phone and started scrolling through my text messages.

  “You haven’t messaged Neville yet!” She cried, ignoring me.

  “Well, of course not. I wasn’t really planning on it.”

  That wasn’t strictly true. I had been planning my initial text for the last half hour. I had typed out my thoughts, decided my words sounded absurd, and then deleted my entire message at least three times.

  “Why not?” Elizabeth asked.

  I glanced to Ivy and Kyra, who had found men to dance with. I figured Kyra would likely go home with her man. Ivy wouldn’t, as she never did. Both Elizabeth and Ivy were diehard romantics, which meant they avoided one-night stands. Kyra and I had both sworn off the institution of love and were usually more inclined to find someone to occupy our time in a more casual way. Normally, I’d be on the dance floor with them, but I just wasn’t in the right frame of mind.

  “Honestly, Lizzie, I’m not sure it’s such a great idea. Maybe it’s too soon. Maybe he’s not actually interested. Maybe I’m not ready.”

  My biggest fear of the moment was texting him, only for him to ghost me, or worse, for him to admit meeting me was nice, but he didn’t care to keep talking. Why was he having this effect on me? Whatever it was made me a little bit uncomfortable.

  “Well you’ll never know if you don’t try,” she whispered conspiratorially. She held my phone up for me to grab, and I snatched it out of her hand.

  I grumbled. “All right, then riddle me this, what should my first message say?”

  “Hey,” came the simple reply.

  I glared. “Fine.”

  I unlocked my phone and opened the empty text chat under Neville’s name. I typed out a simple, “Hey. This is Cedar.”

  Chapter Five

  Neville

  The buzzing of the tattoo gun filled the surrounding air, the vibrations shooting up my arms as I outlined a skull on the left shoulder of my client. The giant man sat in the chair, hardly reacting as I filled his skin with ink. He was taller than me, so I had to bring my chair up to its fullest height to work on him without skewing the image.

  We sat in my booth, which was set in the midst a collection of cubicles that Levi and I set up as a sort of joke, considering we both hated the idea of working in a cubicle farm for the rest of our lives.

  My booth was covered in the art I drew in my spare time, a collection of dark images, usually done in ballpoint pen. It was all pretty cerebral art, and it was also the perfect barometer for what kind of client I had sitting in my chair. If they wanted to discuss the art, and the deeper meaning, I knew it would be a pleasant few hours. If they didn’t understand the art, or if they thought the messaging was poor, then I was in for a boring job.

  Aside from the sketches cluttering the walls, there were the standard warnings, and assurances of the sterile environment of the parlor in general. There was also a dedicated space to exhibit some flash art Levi had designed. My designs didn’t often make it onto people’s skin, but Levi’s art was sought after by people from all over the state. We even had some people travel across the country just to have Levi ink them.

  We were proud of our parlor, and I liked to think our clients were proud to visit us.

  “How you doin’, man?” I asked my current client.

  “Ah, I’m all right, you know me,” he replied with a chuckle as he scrolled through his phone.

  I laughed. The giant’s name was Axel, and he never reacted to the pain of having his skin inked. He was mine and Levi’s favorite client for just that reason. It helped that he was completely chill, too. He never tried to haggle the price down, and he told
all his friends how amazing our work was. Given how popular he was in his personal life, it was a huge boost to our business to have the benefit of his word-of-mouth referrals.

  Levi walked in as I turned to dip the tip of the gun into a small cup of black ink.

  “Hey,” he said to us both as he pulled up a stool and sat next to me and Axel.

  “Hey there,” I said, shooting him a quick smile. “You all finished with that one lady?”

  “Yeah, she just wanted a simple tattoo on her calf. Took less time than I thought, because she couldn’t handle the pain and asked if we could split this into two sessions,” Levi said with a shake of his head. “I think she was drunk, anyway, so all the better for me. I hate working on drunk people.”

  “That’s most of our business,” I reminded him.

  Axel let out a booming laugh but said nothing.

  “Yeah, I know, but that doesn’t mean I enjoy it. We might need to have a sobriety policy, because if I see one more wasted girl puke her fruity cocktails into the trashcan in my booth, I might just lose my mind,” Levi said.

  “Well, most of the parlors in the city have one, so it’s an idea we’ll have to talk more about later.”

  The buzzing filled the room again as I started on the skull’s jawline. Axel and Levi settled into a conversation, and I zoned out, concentrating on the task at hand.

  After several minutes, I glanced at the clock. It was about 1:00 am. I was quietly counting down the hours until we closed at 5:00 am, so I could wander over to the coffee shop where I had run into Cedar the previous morning. I just wanted to see her again. Her presence was a calming balm to soothe my cracked and bleeding soul.

  This, of course, made absolutely no sense, considering we only just met. There was something about her though, something that made me feel at ease, like I could drop the shield I held in defense of my mind and body.

  Just then, as if on cue, my phone buzzed, and Levi snatched it up.

  “I got it,” he said, holding his hand up to stop me taking it from him. “You keep working. You need to stay sterile.”