Always You: A Sweet Romantic Comedy (ABCs of Love Collection Books 5-8)

by Brenna Jacobs

  A combination of gratitude and horror tiptoed over Hadley’s shoulders when she heard that. The implication of delivering a bunch of blankets on a fire call was unthinkable. But she was so glad she had brought them, so the guys had something to give.

  “If you see Savanna, will you tell her I had to go?” Hadley said, shouldering her purse.

  “Is she waiting for you?” Nick asked.

  “No. I’m waiting for her. Or I was. Now I’m through. Good to see you, Nick.”

  She let him push past her to get the door. At least he could open a door without causing physical damage. One point in his favor.

  “Bye, Hadley. Really great to see you,” he said, and Hadley was again reminded what a good name Baxter was for a dog. A big, happy one. One that would play Frisbee with you. Maybe a golden retriever.

  She’d made it to her car but not inside it when she got Savanna’s text.

  Come back!

  Hadley stood, her hand on the handle, deciding whether to get in the car and pretend she didn’t get the message until she was driving.

  Hadley did not suffer from friend-blindness. She knew Savanna’s flaws. She recognized that Savanna was sarcastic and kind of mean, especially to the guys in the station. She knew Savanna was a harsh critic, leaning toward being a snob. But she also knew that no stronger advocate had ever lived. If Savanna decided she was on your team, you had a voice. Period.

  The entire Greensburg Cares for Kids campaign was Savanna’s idea, developed after she heard about a family in Bowery County who lost their house in a fire and had nothing but the blankets they kept in their car. That family spent the next year, while living in a temporary apartment situation, making fleece blankets for their local fire department and for departments in surrounding towns. Savanna watched and re-watched the YouTube video of a nine-year-old boy handing over a blanket he’d made to a fireman. Someone must have found that fireman in a catalog of stock photos because he was too perfect to be real, and when the little dude gave him the blanket, they both had tears in their eyes.

  It was exactly the kind of thing Savanna loved, and what she pointed to whenever she needed to highlight the Greensburg station firefighters’ flaws. Apparently, none of them looked like cover models and they didn’t cry enough.

  Another text came through.

  Please?

  She thought about it for no more than half a minute, then she walked back to the station’s front door.

  Nick was sitting in one of the reception chairs, and Savanna was staring at her monitor trying not to smile. It wasn’t working, but Hadley decided not to bring it up.

  “Hi, Hadley,” Savanna said in a cheery voice unlike her own. Weird.

  “Hi…” Hadley drew the word out, wondering why they were starting over when they’d seen each other only a few minutes before.

  Something was happening that Hadley should have been able to read. She watched Savanna for clues. Nothing.

  Savanna continued. “What’s up?” This was accompanied by a widening of the eyes to a degree that suggested there might be a ghost or a monster standing close by, waiting for Savanna’s guard to slip.

  Hadley was terrible at this game. “Oh, you know,” she said, giving a little shake of her head.

  Nick sat in the chair watching them use words to say nothing.

  Savanna seemed to be pointing at him with her eyes, until he looked in her direction, then she hurried to look away. Hadley wondered if a person could sprain an eye.

  “Hey, again, Nick,” Hadley said, hoping that she was taking Savanna’s hints correctly.

  “Hello,” he said, smiling at Hadley and then at Savanna.

  Savanna pointed to the box of donations Hadley had just dropped off.

  Hadley tried again to read her friend’s mind. “So, I brought you some more blankets,” Hadley said to people who already knew that perfectly well.

  “Yeah, I saw. Thank you so much,” Savanna said, jumping into the conversation full speed. Apparently, this was the opening she’d been waiting for. “With your latest donation, you became the biggest donor. I mean, you know, the donor of the largest amount. Congratulations on that, by the way. As a show of gratitude, the chief wants you to come to the Fireman’s Ball the first week in December and I think I should come, too, because otherwise you’ll be the only single woman there and that would be awkward for everyone.”

  “Well, we wouldn’t want any part of this to be awkward,” Hadley said.

  Savanna missed her tone entirely. “Right. So, I’ll let him know you’ll be there. That we’ll be there.”

  Nick Baxter spoke up. “I don’t have a date yet. Why don’t you come with me?”

  Hadley was shocked, but not that he’d finally asked her out. No, what shocked her was that Nick was looking directly into Savanna’s eyes.

  Savanna wasn’t looking away. In fact, she looked distinctly… happy. Nick and Savanna?

  What just happened?

  Nick and Savanna spent the next several millennia staring at each other with goofy grins on their faces.

  What just happened?

  Hadley wanted nothing so much as escape, but she felt herself rooted to the floor. While nothing was happening besides a strange and unpredictable love-in between Nick and Savanna (Nick? And Savanna??) Hadley had, in a matter of about a minute and a half, been instructed to go to the Fireman’s Ball, told she’d better not show up alone, invited to be Savanna’s date, and then, what? Upstaged by Nick, who also wanted to be Savanna’s date?

  “I’d really love to go with you, Nick,” Savanna said in a voice that sounded nothing like her usual voice. It was soft. Light. Sweet. Hadley looked carefully at her friend for signs that she’d been replaced by a clone. Aside from this entire weird conversation, she found none.

  “But I’d hate to leave Hadley out of it,” Savanna went on.

  “Uh, no,” Hadley said, not sure they would even hear her. “No, really, you don’t have to worry about me.”

  “Fletcher will take her,” Nick said.

  Hadley slumped at the thought that now Fletcher would be roped into something he’d hate as much as the combination of putting on a tie and spending time with her. Maybe a week ago he wouldn’t have minded, but now? There was no way. She knew she’d have to say something right away so it didn’t go any farther.

  “Really,” Hadley repeated. “Don’t even mention it.”

  Without looking at her, Nick answered. “No problem. Consider it done. The two of you and,” he actually breathed a little sigh, “the two of us.” His hand drew a line in space from Savanna to himself. He looked like every problem in the world had been solved by his simple act of messing up Hadley’s life.

  But, she thought, look at them. What am I supposed to say? If the combined wattage of Nick’s and Savanna’s smiles could be bottled and sold, the world might never go dark, Hadley thought.

  What just happened?

  Hadley needed to get out of there, but she still wasn’t sure what Savanna had called her back for. Had she somehow planned all of this? The sneaky, wait-for-it kind of dating subterfuge was not Savanna’s style at all.

  Of course, neither was Nick Baxter, but here they were, turning to cream cheese right before her eyes.

  “I’m going to head back to work.”

  Savanna waved three fingers without looking away from Nick. For his part, he didn’t even seem to hear her.

  “Okay. Bye,” Hadley said as she turned for the door.

  At the same time, the door to the engine bay opened and Fletcher walked in. Of course he did. Because Hadley’s life had been replaced by a game of “Make it More Awkward.” She hadn’t been able to avoid his glance, and she could read coldness and discomfort there as if it had been printed on his forehead.

  Nick jumped out of the chair he’d been in. “Fletcher, buddy, guess what? We’re taking these two beautiful women to the Fireman’s Ball next month. What do you say?”

  Fletcher looked from Nick to Hadley and back again.
“I already have a date.” Then he walked down the hall toward the chief’s office.

  Although she knew from the way he’d been acting the past week or two that he’d hate the idea, and although she expected nothing other than a gentle rejection, his instant and frigid dismissal felt like a slap to Hadley. He didn’t even care enough to say “no” kindly. Hadley watched him walk away (again) and remembered that people didn’t change. Fletcher left her once. He’d leave her again. It was what he did.

  Chapter 13

  “And you haven’t told Rose anything about it?” Chief Grantham asked.

  Fletcher rubbed a spot at his temple that never seemed to stop throbbing lately. He’d had his head checked out by his doctor, and he was cleared from the concussion. If he were prone to hypochondria, he’d probably worry he was growing a tumor.

  “I told her there was a new place I’d like to take her for dinner, and that it was really fancy, so she should use this as an excuse to buy herself a new dress.” He dropped his hands to his lap. “Your wife told me to say that part, by the way. I would’ve brought her in jeans and a sweatshirt.”

  The chief smiled. “My wife is excellent at suggesting the need for new dresses,” he said, touching the corner of a framed photo of the two of them that stood on his desk.

  Fletcher was glad Chief Grantham and his wife had a great relationship. Between the Granthams and his own parents, Fletcher had seen strong marriages that were not always to be expected in a stressful career like this. Too many marriages suffered from the extremes of the job, but Fletcher knew that if everyone was committed and had the right kind of personalities, it could work.

  “So the program will honor a few different people, but your mom will get this surprise award in honor of your dad’s years of service at the end.”

  “Sir, I know it’s a surprise. I get it,” Fletcher said, smiling. “I won’t spoil anything. And we’ve hung out so much since I’ve been back in town that she won’t even think it’s weird that I’m taking her as my date.”

  It was possible Fletcher was trying to convince himself of this. And now that Nick had added his wrinkle to the plans, Fletcher began to worry.

  Best case scenario, Fletcher would escort his mother into the Fireman’s Ball where they would sit with the Granthams and eat a really good meal, after which Rose would get called up on stage to receive an award. At which point, she would see Hadley there, grab the microphone, and say “Fletcher, why am I your date if you could have brought her?”

  Okay, so maybe that wasn’t the very best case. Maybe the best case was that Hadley would be escorted by some guy she obviously was crazy about, someone who was like her parents, successful and wearing very expensive shoes. Someone who put his hand on her back when they stood next to each other… and that wasn’t the best option, either.

  Maybe there would be enough people there that Rose wouldn’t notice Hadley at all. There was literally no chance that the same could be said for Fletcher. Since he was twelve years old, he always knew when Hadley was in a room. He’d been unable to ignore her, even when girls were still gross. But if the Ball was dinner, a short program, and one dance with his mom before they ran out the door, it was possible that Rose didn’t have to know Hadley was even there.

  Because this whole thing, Fletcher’s reunion with Hadley, followed by what might have looked like possibility, followed later by coldness, made Rose sad. Fletcher had told her, in as few words with as few details as possible, that things really weren’t any different than when they’d broken up years ago. Rose didn’t say anything about it directly, but Fletcher knew his mom, and he knew she was taking these things to heart. He hated that his actions were hurting his mom.

  And the worst part was that he was right—the things that mattered really were not different than when they’d broken up in college. She still had something to prove, whether it was to the world in general or her parents in particular. That something included the fact that she knew what she was doing, and she could live perfectly well with or without Fletcher Gates. Hadley seemed willing enough to be friends with Fletcher, to hang out and eat and talk about whatever was on her mind, but Fletcher was positive that once he walked away, she never missed him. That she never thought of him when he wasn’t in front of her.

  Not that he wanted someone to be obsessed with him. He didn’t. That was the stuff of horror movies, and no thank you. But Fletcher knew that he needed to be needed, and Hadley was showing everyone that she didn’t need anyone or anything.

  Even worse? He loved that about her.

  Her fierce independence was not only attractive but endearing. He was so proud of her. But it was impossible for them to be together because they simply did not fulfill each other’s needs.

  He rubbed at his temple again, the painful spot growing larger. Maybe it was a tumor, after all. He wasn’t obsessing about a possible illness. He wasn’t neurotic. He was simply being aware. A person didn’t have to be a hypochondriac to get a tumor, did they?

  Pathetic, he told himself.

  Chief Grantham was still talking about the Ball. “Make sure you get me those pictures from her house by the end of the week. Anything you’ve got digitally, send to my wife. Bring the hard copies here and I’ll have Savanna scan them and upload them for the presentation.”

  “And the presentation is only a few minutes, right? I don’t want her to get worn out standing up there too long.”

  Chief Grantham leaned over his desk. In a soft voice, he asked, “Is it that bad?”

  Fletcher went into protection mode. “No, of course not. But it’s night, and she goes to bed early. You know how it is.”

  Now the chief leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms across his chest. “Who are you trying to protect, son? Your mom, or me?”

  The question silenced Fletcher, who had never been asked such a direct question about his tendency to save people.

  When he realized that the chief expected an answer, Fletcher said, “I guess both of you.”

  Chief Grantham nodded. “I understand. We’ll make it easy for her.” His nod suggested that Fletcher could leave.

  He stood, but there was one more thing he needed to take care of. “Sir? She wants to do Thanksgiving.”

  The chief knew exactly what Fletcher meant. “Tell her we’d be honored.”

  * * * * *

  When Fletcher finished work that night, he sat beside his mom at her kitchen table and picked up a notebook. “List time. Thanksgiving at the station. Hit me. What do we need?”

  Rose started ticking off items on her fingers: every holiday dinner dish Fletcher was used to, and some he’d never heard of. When he asked, she explained that a few of the firefighters had suggested their hometown regional favorites over the years, and she’d blended them into the meal.

  “It seems like Thanksgiving is the best time to open our minds and our mouths to new ideas,” she said. “In fact, I think I’ll get that put on a T-shirt and wear it to dinner.”

  Fletcher looked at her sideways. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “Well, I was, but now that I see how it would horrify you, maybe I’ll really do it.”

  “Back to the list. You’re getting swept away by your power.”

  “Okay, so are you bringing Hadley over?”

  Where had that come from? “Mom,” Fletcher said. “I told you.”

  Rose interrupted. “I know what you told me, but we can’t leave her alone with a box of orange mac and cheese on Thanksgiving.”

  Fletcher pretended to write ‘orange mac and cheese’ on the list. Rose took the pen away. “Gimme that.” She pulled the list toward her.

  “This looks great. But I’m serious about Hadley,” Rose continued, ignoring Fletcher’s pained expression.

  “Then you call her,” he said, his voice more defiant that he liked to hear it. “She likes you better anyway.”

  Rose shook her head. “Impossible.”

  Fletcher’s eyebrows went up.

  �
�I mean, it’s impossible that she likes me better. But I’m happy to call her. I’ll ask for her help, and then it won’t feel awkward at all to have her join us at the station for dinner.”

  Right. Not at all.

  Chapter 14

  Hadley stood behind the register at Second Glance with six tabs open in her browser. How was it possible that people had been cooking Thanksgiving turkeys around here since the nineteenth century and there were still fifty “must-try” new ways to make it happen?

  “Brine. Deep fry. Butter-baste. Curry crust. Can’t someone just tell me how to roast a turkey so it tastes like roast turkey?” Hadley was aware she was muttering aloud to herself, but she didn’t care.

  As she’d come into the shop that morning, she’d seen how many of the stores in town were already decorated for Christmas. Besides the twinkle lights that shone from her shop windows every day of the year, she hadn’t given the change in season any notice. She was determined to let Thanksgiving have a full weekend.

  Her mom, ready to help Hadley turn her business plan toward the current century, insisted that she do a Black Friday event. Over the phone, she said to Hadley, “Bring in an author to do a reading. Offer free gift wrap.”

  The whole idea was honestly repellent to Hadley. “Not going to happen. There is plenty of shopping time, Mom. Not everything has to be done the way everyone else does it.” She had rolled her eyes over the phone. “And anyway, people can get their gifts wrapped for free every day here. I’m a full-service kind of gal.”

  “I really think you need to reconsider,” her mom had said.

  “I really want to spend every possible minute with you and Dad while you’re here.” That had stopped the conversation from turning into an argument.

  “What do you need me to do for dinner?” her mom had asked.

  “Not a thing,” Hadley had told her. “I’ve got it all under control.”

  When she hung up the phone, Hadley had burst into a fit of uncontrollable giggles. She’d snuck into the break room to smother her laugh behind a closed door. Since she was by herself, there was nothing to continue setting her off, and she managed to get herself back to normal within a few minutes. Breathing her heartrate back to its resting range, Hadley realized that this kind of laughing fit hadn’t happened in a while. Not since Fletcher’s first day back, actually. And now she was, like she’d told her mom, under control.