by Noelle Adams
One of Jacob’s resolutions on making this visit was to not think too much about Ria Phillips. So far, he’d managed to push back the images of her brown eyes and slim body and pretty face out of his mind every time they’d forced their way in, so he didn’t appreciate his grandfather purposefully bringing her up.
He swallowed hard and didn’t answer.
His grandfather’s eyes flashed with a familiar cold humor. “She’s still single. Evidently done well with the flowers. No idea how.”
Jacob knew Ria had made a success of the flower shop. Occasionally, in the off-seasons when he was particularly bored or lonely, he’d look her up online to see what she was doing. He’d seen when she and her friends had rebranded the business. He’d witnessed the sudden surge of interest on Twitter and Instagram. He’d found some profile pieces on the success of the unique business.
He’d always known she was smart and talented and brave and determined. If anyone could take a dying business and turn it around, it was her.
“Nothing to say? I thought you were so gone on her you didn’t want to leave town.”
Jacob rolled his eyes, unable to hide the bitterness. “That was eight years ago. You think I’m still hung up on my high school girlfriend?”
“Don’t know. Maybe. You were always way too mopey about that girl. And you haven’t found yourself a wife yet.”
Jacob shrugged. “My lifestyle doesn’t exactly lend itself to domesticity.”
“Maybe. But you’re what? Twenty-seven? Should be thinking about settling down and starting a family.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me. You kicked me out because you wanted me to toughen up and be a man, and now you want me to settle down and make babies?”
“Good time for it now.”
Jacob shook his head. “I know you raised me, Grandpa. You took me in when I had no one else. I do appreciate it, and I’m sorry you don’t have much time left. But you made it very clear you don’t want to be involved in my life, so I’m sorry. You’re not allowed to get involved now.”
“Fair enough.”
His grandfather’s slightly subdued face gave Jacob a flash of guilt, and that was the most annoying thing. He had no call to feel guilty. His grandfather had done the bare bones of his duty, but he’d never shown him love or compassion.
Jacob was what his grandfather had made him, and the old man didn’t get to act hurt because of it.
“How long you staying?” His grandfather had returned to his straightforward self, albeit weaker than he’d ever been in the past.
Jacob shrugged. “I can stay for a while. A few weeks. Whatever. I don’t have another job lined up until next month.”
“Good. You can help fix this place up. And get that woman back in here. I need my pills.”
Jacob inhaled slowly and then let out the long breath. His grandfather hadn’t changed.
He wasn’t sure why it had even occurred to him that he might.
But one thing was for sure. Jacob wasn’t going to stay in town long term. He didn’t like it in Azalea anymore. It brought up too many memories. Made his stomach churn uncomfortably.
Assuming his grandfather only had a few more weeks left to live, Jacob would stay until he died and then take care of the final strings of the estate. He’d sell this house. And the property on Main Street. He didn’t want any of it.
Then he’d get out of town and never come back.
Two
THE FOLLOWING MORNING, Jacob needed some air and space from the musty old house and didn’t want the oatmeal that was the only thing Martha ever prepared for breakfast, so he went for a jog first thing and then drove the two miles into downtown Azalea so he could get something else to eat at Anna’s Diner, the only restaurant in town.
It wasn’t until he sat on a stool at the counter, sipped his black coffee, and waited for the bacon, egg, and cheese on a bagel he’d ordered that he realized his mistake.
Everyone was staring at him.
He might look different now than he had as a teenager, but they all knew exactly who he was.
If he’d wanted to keep a low profile, Anna’s wasn’t the place to show up.
He recognized about half the old guys in the far corner, who probably gathered there most mornings to drink coffee and complain about the news. He couldn’t remember all their names, but their faces were familiar from his childhood. He nodded when one of them lifted his hand in a casual wave.
On the other side of the diner was a couple he didn’t recognize, and at the one large table was more than half the Devereaux clan.
There had been eight Devereaux kids, all grown up now. Evidently a lot of them had stayed in town since Jacob could count at least five of them at the table this morning with their parents and an assortment of others who were probably spouses.
The youngest Devereaux had been Ria’s best friend. Skye. But he didn’t see anyone who looked like her at the table. He had no idea if she was still living in town or if she and Ria were even still friends.
But the thought of her brought Ria to his mind. The flower shop was just down the block.
Maybe he’d see her.
His blood shouldn’t start pulsing at the thought of it.
“Jacob, isn’t it?” The male voice came from beside him.
Jacob turned to see a man—maybe ten years older than him—sitting down at the stool to his right. The face was familiar, but Jacob couldn’t immediately place it.
“Ken,” the man said. “Ken Harley.” He had a broad face, square jaw, and an easygoing manner that didn’t quite disguise the sharp intelligence of his eyes. “You remember me?”
“Oh yeah. Of course.” Ken had been one of the sheriff’s deputies. More than once, he’d been the one to round up Jacob when he’d gotten into trouble as a teenager. Jacob held out his hand in greeting and glanced down at Ken’s jeans and boots. “You still with the sheriff’s office?”
“Yep.” Ken evidently came here often because the waitress brought him coffee without asking. “I’m the sheriff now.”
“Good for you.”
“Thanks. You in town for long?”
“Not sure. Few weeks at least.”
Ken nodded. “That’s good. Your grandpa doesn’t have much time left. Be good for him to have family at the end.”
There was no obvious judgment in the other man’s tone, but the words cut Jacob like a knife anyway. His first instinct was to defend himself. After all, he wouldn’t have left—maybe ever—had his grandfather not forced him out. But it was entirely possible that the town didn’t know this particular detail. Maybe they all thought he’d taken off for no good reason.
Ria probably thought he was a world-class asshole. She’d been so hurt the morning he left when he stopped by to tell her he was leaving. She hadn’t understood why, and he’d been like a wounded animal, too pained and stunned to open up enough to tell her the whole truth.
He’d just told her he had to go. That his grandfather thought it was best.
She’d cried.
It was one of the worst memories of a life full of hard ones.
When he realized Ken was still waiting for a response, Jacob straightened up. “Oh. Yeah. Glad I could come.”
This was evidently a satisfactory response because Ken didn’t follow up on the topic further. Ken’s biscuits and gravy came at the same time as Jacob’s sandwich, so they ate in companionable silence until someone else came over to talk to Ken.
Jacob was on his way out of the diner when he almost ran smack into Skye Devereaux.
She was so short her face was at the level of his shirt. She gave a squeak of surprise and said, “Oh, sorry, sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going.”
“No problem,” he said, wondering if she’d recognize him. Like Ria, she’d gone to school with him from kindergarten.
Her gaze finally traveled up to his face, and she gaped speechlessly for a few seconds.
“Hi, Skye,” he said at last, when she seemed incapa
ble of getting any words out.
She made another squeaking sound. Then said, “Hi.” She blinked a few times. “You look different.”
“Yeah. Been eight years.”
“I guess so.” She seemed momentarily torn, looking between his face and the table where her family was gathered and the phone in her hand. She was probably itching to call up Ria and tell her about this ridiculous encounter. “Okay.”
“Okay,” Jacob said, arching his eyebrows and stepping out of the way for a man who was trying to enter. “See you later.”
“Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah.” With that stilted refrain, Skye made a quick getaway, hurrying over toward her family.
Jacob shook his head with a dry laugh as he walked toward his car. It was bound to be awkward, his coming back like this. But better to get all the initial interactions over with as quickly as possible.
He couldn’t help himself. He glanced over toward Ria’s flower shop across the street as he walked.
He wasn’t really expecting to see her, but he did.
As he looked, the door to the storefront opened, and she stepped out onto the sidewalk. She’d always been unjustly pretty with her long brown hair, big dark eyes, and wide, vibrant smile. But she no longer looked like a pretty little girl. She was all grown up. Her body was tall and slender, dressed in a pink top and gray capris. He couldn’t see the details of her face from this distance, but she’d pulled her hair up on top of her head with a clip.
She was holding her phone. She looked at the diner and then up and down the block.
Skye must have texted her about him leaving the diner, and she’d stepped outside to see if she could spot him.
Jacob couldn’t move. He stood on the sidewalk and gazed at her until her eyes must have landed on his figure across the street.
They stared at each other, too far apart to read the other’s expression.
Jacob’s heart hammered painfully in his chest. His skin had flushed strangely hot. His eyes blurred over slightly as he gazed at her.
Eight years. And he could still remember everything he’d felt for her back then. All of it. In all the same intensity. Like no time had passed at all.
He was just on the edge of walking over to say hello to her when her body gave a little jerk. Then she rotated on her heel. Turned her back on him. Walked into the store.
He’d left everything when he left town, including the girl he loved.
It was too late now.
He was never going to get her back.
RIA SPENT ALL MONDAY morning working on arrangements for delivery, so she was tired and slightly dazed from focusing so intensely when Skye came flouncing in to complain about her parents, who obviously loved her to pieces but who also refused to treat her like an adult. The latest offense was fairly minor—trying to take over her plans for two of her brothers’ (the twins’) birthday party—so Ria could tune into the venting with only half an ear.
The truth was she hadn’t had a good weekend. She was exhausted and kind of glum and also antsy about possibly running into Jacob at any moment.
She’d also lost both her parents only a few years ago. She would love to have them around to nag or baby or annoy her.
She wouldn’t dream of saying that to Skye, of course. It would make her friend feel horrible and guilty for the complaints. And everyone whined about their parents occasionally. Skye was allowed, whether or not Ria had lost hers.
“I’m sorry,” Skye said after a few minutes. She’d jumped up to sit on one of the worktables and she swung her legs as she spoke. “I shouldn’t be going on like this.”
“You can go on as much as you like. I know how much it bothers you that they won’t treat you like a grown-up.”
“Yeah. But still. There are more important things going on than that.”
“Like what?” With great effort, Ria managed to keep her features still, with just the slightest inquisitive smile on her face.
“You know like what. The return of Jacob Worth. You’re going to have to stop avoiding him eventually.”
“I’m not avoiding him.”
Skye rolled her big blue eyes.
“Don’t give me that look,” Ria said, squirting cleaner onto her work surface and wiping it down. “I haven’t been avoiding him. I’ve seen him three times. Once on Friday as he was leaving Anna’s. Once on Saturday when he passed by on his way to the drugstore. And once on Sunday after church when he was running.”
“Yeah, but you didn’t talk to him any of those times. In fact, you went out of your way to avoid talking to him all those times, even on Sunday when he looked like he was going to come over to say hello to us. You just turned around and went to your car.”
“So I didn’t want to talk to him. What’s your point?”
“My point is it would probably be easier if you just got the first talk over with.”
“It doesn’t need to be easier. It’s fine.” Ria wiped at the table vigorously.
“Is it really? Then why are you trying to scrub the surface off that table?”
Ria suddenly realized how forcefully she’d been wiping. She sighed and released her cloth. “Okay. It’s a little bit hard.”
“Of course it’s hard. It would be hard for anyone who’d gone through what you went through. It would be terrible to see the guy who broke your heart again. But I thought you wanted to prove to everyone in town that you’re over him.”
“I am over him.”
“I know you are. But no one believes it but me and Madeline. So I thought you wanted to prove it to everyone else.”
“I do.”
“So see him. Talk to him for a little while. Be friendly and casual. Show him that you don’t care about him anymore.”
“I don’t care about him.” Ria sniffed a couple of times.
Skye slanted her a look.
“Okay, fine. Seeing him again kind of roused up all those old feelings. But they’re just memories. We’re different people now. It’s not like I’m hoping we’ll get together again—or that I’d even want that anymore. It’s just hard.” She stared down at the perfectly clean table. “I loved him a lot.”
“I know you did.” Skye was normally a breezy person, but her tone was more sympathetic than usual. “And he hurt you bad. But he seems like he’s trying to mend fences. He’s been nice to folks in town. At least that’s what everyone’s said. He went over to help Marshall Spiro move last night, and he definitely didn’t have to do that. So if you’re really over what happened, you can talk to him and get some real closure.”
“Yeah. You’re right. That would be good.” She nodded, coming to the decision she’d been telling herself was the right one all weekend. “Closure. Okay. Next time I see him, I won’t run away. That’s my plan.”
“What’s your plan?”
The new voice surprised Ria since she hadn’t heard anyone enter the shop. She whirled around and saw her sister Belinda walking into the room. “Nothing.”
Belinda was five years older than Ria. She had the same dark hair and dark eyes as her younger sister, but otherwise the two were nothing alike. Belinda was a CPA, and she’d never been remotely interested in flowers. “Well, it was something, but you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”
“It wasn’t anything important.”
Belinda gave her a quick look. “Jacob?”
Ria nodded. “Yeah.”
“You should just talk to him and get it over with.”
“That’s what Skye was just telling me. I’m going to. Next time I see him, I’ll talk to him. That’s my plan. It will be fine.”
“Of course it will be fine. It’s been years. It’s not like you still have a thing for him.”
The thing about Belinda was that she meant it. Because she was such a no-nonsense and practical person, she assumed everyone else was as well. She would never still be holding on to feelings for a man after eight years, so she couldn’t imagine that Ria might be.
Not that Ria was. Of
course not. She was completely over him, and it was time to prove it to the world.
She had a plan now, and she was going to stick to it.
Belinda had been inspecting the finished arrangements in the refrigerated case against the wall. “These look great. They’re all local?”
“Hampton Roads. Fitz should be coming by soon to pick them up for delivery.”
Belinda made a face. “Can’t you find someone more respectable to make deliveries?”
“Fitz has been doing them for years now. No one cares if he’s kind of sloppy.”
“Sloppy? I swear he wears the same pants every single day, and that ridiculous beard has never seen the blades of a pair of scissors.”
Belinda was right. Fitz wasn’t exactly known for sartorial splendor. Or even basic grooming. But Ria liked him anyway. He made her laugh. “We could never find anyone else as cheap as he is.”
“That’s because he lives in someone’s attic.” Belinda was making a face. She’d never cared much for Fitz, but her displeasure was more pronounced than normal. “Why a grown man wants to live like a penniless college student—”
“I live like a college student so I have a few pennies to spend,” Fitz said, strolling into the room with his too-long hair and his untrimmed beard and the same beat-up trousers and army jacket he always wore. Ria had no idea about his age, but her best guess was around forty since he had a few strands of gray in his chestnut-brown hair. He’d shown up in town one day with no explanation or backstory. No one in Azalea had a clue about where he was from or what had happened in his life to make him live this way.
It wasn’t out of necessity. He was smart and articulate when he let other people see it, and he was more than capable of holding down a regular job. He just didn’t seem to want to. He earned the little he needed by making deliveries for them and doing odd jobs. For the past year, she’d also had him do flower pickups at local farms to supplement the flowers she purchased from wholesalers. But other than the odd jobs he did, Fitz spent the rest of his days wandering around and talking to people.
