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

by Nikki Blythe

  The owner of the flower shop next door stuck their head out of their front door and gave me a quizzical look. I responded with a sweet smile.

  “I left my phone in there,” I lied.

  “Ah, well, Neville left to go grab something to eat, I think. He should be back soon. No need to keep cop-knocking on the door. You'll break a hand,” the owner of the flower shop winked.

  She disappeared again, and I sighed and turned to press my back against the door.

  Sure, I could go home and wait until I knew the parlor was open, but I just couldn't wait that long. I needed answers. I was so tired of this back and forth. I had a hard decision to make. Was Neville worth all this trouble? Was love ever worth all this drama?

  I slid down to the pavement and rested my head on my knees in exhaustion. I wasn't just physically exhausted; emotionally, I was drained.

  I tended to think of relationships as if they were a bank account. If you made too many withdrawals from my emotional bank, and never made any deposits, it was time to break off the friendship, relationship, whatever.

  But did Neville really withdraw too much? He added so much to my life, even in the short time I'd known him. I struggled so much with the thought that he may not be the one for me, simply because of the troubles that plagued us.

  “Cedar?” Came a soft voice.

  In my reverie, I hadn't heard the footsteps until Neville was standing right next to me. He held a white bag in one hand and a coffee in the other.

  “Neville!” I cried. “Oh, good, you're back,” I breathed.

  “Is everything okay?”

  He put his coffee in the crook of his arm as he dug in his pocket for his keys. I watched him unlock the door, searching for the words to describe what was on my mind.

  “Not really, no. Faith came to my studio,” I hissed.

  Neville dropped his keys before he could get them back in his pocket. I stooped to grab them, and he took them, letting his hand linger on my fingers for a moment. Our eyes met, and a jolt of electricity shot through my body.

  Was I being played by this man? Was this all just some game to him? What was I supposed to do, wait for things with Faith to take their natural end? That could take years. Eighteen years, in fact.

  “Come in,” he said, breathless.

  He opened the door, and I followed him inside, where he turned and locked the door behind me. Wordlessly, I followed him down the hall between the booths, and through a door in the back. I assumed he had just led me to the break room of sorts, because looking around, this room was definitely not really meant for customers to see. The walls were largely bare, and on one side of the room was a counter built in, with a sink and a microwave. On the opposite wall sat a black vinyl couch, and the only other object in the room was a large device that I had to assume was an autoclave for the sake of sterilizing the reusable tools and equipment.

  Neville plopped down on the couch and took a long drag from his coffee. He gestured to the cushion next to him.

  “Care to sit?” He asked. “I feel awkward sitting here while you stand over there looking at me all suspicious like.”

  He tried to laugh off whatever was on his mind, but I could tell Faith's little visit truly bothered him.

  “Neville,” I murmured, moving to the couch as he requested. “She told me she's pregnant. Is that true?”

  Neville closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

  “Yeah. Remember how she texted me and told me she needed to talk?”

  I nodded.

  “Well, when I walked in, she was sitting on the couch. I didn’t really want to talk to her, to sit down and face her at all, really. I started packing and getting a few more of my things together so I could make a speedy exit. That’s when she told me.”

  I bit my lip, trying to find my next words.

  “How did that make you feel?” I asked quietly.

  “Honestly, at first I was pretty excited. I've always wanted to be a father, but do I want to be a father to a child with her? I guess it doesn't matter, because the choice has been taken from me, now.”

  He took another long sip. I wrung my hands in my lap, reflecting on my next words.

  “I guess, first I should congratulate you, right?” I tried to smile. “I do have some questions though, and I know you don't owe me anything, but can I ask them, anyway?”

  Neville snapped his eyes to mine. There was a flash of concern in his eyes. “Cedar, never think you have to worry about what I'll think, or anything like that. I value you,” he whispered.

  “You said to me that your relationship was fundamentally over,” I began. “But, if she's pregnant, and she says she's not very far along, doesn't that mean you two have had, you know, relations?” I finished as my cheeks flushed. I knew I must have been beet red.

  “Yeah,” he said. “I'll be honest with you, there was a point a few weeks ago where we had a fight, and I went home to her, and she apologized by way of seduction. She usually does that. That was the last time though, even after other fights when she tried that tactic, I resisted her.”

  “Oh,” I said in a small voice.

  “Cedar,” he turned to face me, placing his food and coffee on the floor next to the couch. “Listen to me, please. It really is over between us. I don't want anything to do with her romantically anymore. I will take responsibility for this child, because I am part of what is bringing them into the world, but she and I are done.”

  “Does she know that? She still refers to herself as your fiancé, Neville,” I whispered.

  Neville took a deep breath. “I don't really know how to navigate this. She isn't accepting what's happening, though, I'm sure she'll accept reality soon enough. I just have to be persistent.”

  He moved himself closer to my position on the couch.

  “Cedar, please, understand that I want to be with you, but I do have a lot of healing to contend with, and of course, now she will forever be a part of my life.”

  “That's a lot for me to have to deal with,” I admitted. “Especially if she's just going to randomly show up at my place of work. How did she even find out about the studio?” I asked, suddenly curious.

  “I don't know. Process of elimination, most likely. One of our last fights started because I told her I was taking yoga lessons, and she told me that I wasn’t allowed. You're the closest studio, so she probably just worked it out. Or she found a receipt or something. Who knows? She's nosy and crafty, so she could have found out in a variety of different ways.”

  “That's alarming,” I muttered.

  Neville met my eyes, and for a moment he paused. Then, his hand slowly came up to rest on the side of my face. His thumb moved lightly back and forth, rubbing against the apple of my cheek as we stared into each other's eyes, the silence pressing in on us.

  “You have nothing to fear from her,” he said after some time. “She's just trying to punish me. She'll give up soon, after she realizes just how serious I am about being done this time.”

  There was another long moment of silence. All of this was a lot to work through, mentally. It was hard to decide just how to proceed.

  “She's insane,” I said, finally.

  Neville laughed. “I know. She'll be gone soon enough. I'm working on getting a new place. I'm thinking of buying a proper house this time, instead of continuing to live in an apartment. That was always her dream, to have some sort of urban fantasy life, as if Highland Lakes is some sort of cosmopolitan mecca,” he chuckled. “I never understood that. We live in the country, for fuck's sake. Might as well embrace it.”

  “I agree,” I smiled.

  There was a moment of hesitation from Neville, where he held my gaze and I could see the tiny flecks of green in his hazel eyes, before he leaned in and kissed my lips lightly. The brush of his lips was too much for me to handle. I'd been holding my desire for him the entire time he sat next to me on the couch. The air between us felt electrically charged, thick with the tension required to keep our hands off eac
h other. My mind wandered back to the other day in my office, where we had succumbed to a carnal need, leaving us both breathless.

  Clearly, it had not been enough to sate our hunger for one another. Add the fact that we hadn’t seen each other properly in weeks, and of course we weren’t going to be able to keep our hands off each other.

  I kissed him back firmly, wrapping my arms around his neck. His left hand wrapped around the small of my back, and in that instant, all conversation was over. The only communication between us was that of our bodies.

  His hand pressed into my back, pulling me down, guiding me into a reclined position on the couch, where my head rested on the arm. He hovered over me a moment and pulled his hand from my back to trail his fingers down the curve of my chest. I watched him as his eyes tracked to my breasts, heaving with the heavy breathing caused by my sudden, but not at all surprising need for him.

  Fuck. I really shouldn't do this. Shouldn't. But damn, if I didn't want him so badly.

  I pulled his collar so that he was forced to descend to meet my lips. He kissed me once, then planted soft kisses down my chin, then my neck. He nipped at my earlobe before moving those kisses down my chest. Impatient to get to my bare skin, he tugged at the hem of my shirt, and pulled it up over my head, along with the sports bra I wore for work.

  I leaned back against the vinyl couch, and the cool plastic stunned my skin, sending goosebumps down my arms.

  “Fuck, Cedar,” he muttered, descending once more to take one pale pink nipple into his mouth.

  I gasped aloud. “Oh, please,” I moaned.

  In one heated movement, my hands darted to his pants to unbuckle his belt.

  “No,” he muttered, putting his hand in the way of my objective. “We're going to do this slowly this time. I want to savor you, as long as I can,” he breathed into my chest.

  He stood then, and slid off the couch so that his knees fell beside me, and he could more easily remove my pants. He tossed them to the other side of the room, where they landed on the counter next to the sink, and bent his head to the wetness between my legs. His tongue darted out sliding between my lower lips, tickling my clit. I moaned, low and soft, unafraid to make a little noise since we were completely alone. I bucked my hips to meet his mouth, and his powerful hands grasped my thighs, holding them in place as he held me down. He forced me to be still until out of nowhere, violent waves of pleasure ripped through my body. I half-screamed as I finished, and Neville chuckled against me, causing me to twitch.

  Content in having achieved his objective, Neville stood again, still clothed as I lay on the couch, entirely nude.

  He tore his shirt over his head, and my eyes were drawn to the bulge in his jeans as he unbuckled his pant and let them fall to the floor in a soft heap.

  I reached my hand out for him, and he took my guidance, pulling him on top of me. He kissed me, hard, and I felt his cock throb against my leg.

  “I need you,” he whispered.

  “Take me,” I whispered back.

  That was all the invitation he needed. He pulled back slightly to orient himself above me, then slowly pressed into me. I let out another low moan. He pumped himself back and forth, one hand holding himself above me, so his weight didn't crush me, and the other tweaking my nipple.

  I rested one hand on his chest, my nails digging into his skin slightly as his movements grew faster in his fervent need for me.

  I bucked my hips in time with his matching his pace until we came together, in one fluid motion.

  In the end, we laid on the couch next to each other, panting with exertion. My mind raced, going back and forth between thoughts of guilt and thoughts of ecstasy. I couldn't deny my attraction to Neville, but this entire situation with his ex was volatile, and if I was being honest with myself, I was terrified. He clearly had some emotional hold over me, and I was frantic to be free of that grip.

  “What are you thinking?” He asked, tucking a stray blonde hair behind my ear.

  “I-” I began, but a sudden tinkling of the doorbell froze my words.

  “Shit,” Neville hissed, glancing at the watch on his wrist. “What the fuck is Levi doing here?”

  He hopped off the couch and moved to close the break room door. Then, he darted to the counter and tossed me my pants.

  “I am so sorry,” he muttered.

  “No,” I tried to assure him. “No, don't be, it's not your fault.”

  “Neville?” Called Levi.

  “In here, just give me a moment, please!” Neville called back.

  “Uh, okay?” Levi sounded confused.

  As well he should be, I thought.

  Once we were both dressed, Neville opened the door, Levi entered with tentative steps. The confusion on his face vanished as he took in my flushed appearance, and Neville's sheepish expression.

  “Oh, am I interrupting?” He smiled wickedly.

  “No,” I said, before Neville could say anything.

  I made my decision in that instant.

  “Levi, can you give us a moment? I'll be out of your hair in a moment, I promise.”

  Levi put his hands in the air and backed out of the room slowly.

  I turned to Neville and gave him an apologetic glance.

  “I'm sorry, Neville,” I began. “I don't think I can do this.”

  “Oh, don't worry, he won't find anything out if you don't want him to,” he gestured to the now closed door.

  “No, I mean,” I took a deep breath. “I can't be the other woman. Even if this is over for you, it clearly isn't for Faith. I think it might be best if we just don't talk or see each other for a while, you know? Clearly, we can't even be alone in the same room as each other without attacking each other's faces, and... you're about to be a father, Neville. I don't know that I can handle any of this right now.”

  Neville's face fell, but he nodded. “No, I get it. I'll give you your space.”

  I grabbed my purse, which had been cast aside as soon as we entered the room earlier.

  I gave him one last teary glance, then left the tattoo parlor, refusing to make eye contact with Levi as I left, probably for good.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Neville

  After Cedar left, I sat in a sort of daze for a time. I couldn't believe what had just happened. I mean, talk about mixed signals.

  I could understand her apprehension, though, especially given what she had told me about her ex, and how he had treated her during their relationship. “Treated” is too optimistic a word, if I was being honest. Her ex neglected her, and she didn't deserve that in the slightest.

  Beyond that, though, my ex had shown up at her place of work. That was beyond the pale. I couldn’t imagine what was going through Faith’s head. I remembered, sometime after Cedar left, that Levi and I discussed this whole situation, and Faith had walked in on us. She must have put that together with my yoga classes and determined who to visit based on that information alone.

  During my haze, Levi apologized profusely, and left, having only come in because he forgot something. As he left, I muttered something about talking to him about everything later.

  I couldn’t get past the fact that Faith had just shown up like she did. At Cedar's place of work, no less. Faith's behavior had always been a bit alarming, but this was downright scary. I was concerned for Cedar's safety, which is half the reason I didn't object to her saying we should cool things off for a while.

  As if all that I needed to sort out the situation was those few moments of clarity, I pulled out my phone and programmed speed dial for the emergency number. I would be confronting Faith, and if anything were to happen, the speed dial would be faster than dialing, even if it was only three numbers.

  I pushed myself off the vinyl couch in the break room and left the parlor to walk across the street to my apartment. I figured that Faith would be there, as I hadn't seen her go to work in days. I wondered idly if she had lost her job, or worse, quit in her pursuit of my obedience and subservience.
>
  I shuddered at the thought as I slammed the button for the crosswalk. I waited a moment, then looked up and down the street, and since there were few cars, and despite the light staying red, I walked across the street.

  I was on a mission, whether Faith was in the apartment, I was going home. The place was in my name after all. It was merely a kindness to let her stay there despite our separation, but I wanted to be home. In my reflection that morning, I thought about the fact that she was exercising more manipulation over me by staying, despite my insistence that we were done.

  To that end, I had my duffle bag slung over my shoulder. I would move back into my apartment and implore Faith to go stay with her parents until she could figure something else out. Yes, she was pregnant, but she would be far more comfortable in the small mansion of her wealthy father's than she would be in my small apartment, anyway.

  As I reached the front door, I paused. My inclination was to knock, but that was absurd. Again, it was my place.

  I turned the key in the lock and pressed my way inside.

  As I suspected, Faith was home. She sat on the couch, wearing a simple white t-shirt and jeans. She was barefoot. I sighed. She knew that was my favorite look for her. I liked simple things; there was something intimate in the way a woman could feel comfortable enough to just be, without all the trappings of fashion, makeup, or the need to “impress.” I could never understand men who demanded that of their women.

  I closed the door and stood in front of Faith, who didn't immediately look up from the magazine she was reading.

  “Faith,” I said, my voice louder than I intended. “We need to talk.”

  She looked at me, her eyes narrow. “Oh?”

  She placed her magazine in her lap, using a finger to hold her place. I moved to sit on the opposite side of the couch from her. There were at least three feet between us. It was too close.

  “For starters, I need you to know that I will always be there for you. I want to be a good father, and I want to have a relationship with you insofar as making sure our child grows up happy and healthy.”