Falling for a Former Flame: A Sweet Romantic Comedy (ABCs of Love)

by Brenna Jacobs

  He would have to keep it together. It was so new, so rare for her to allow him to help her with anything that he didn’t want to jinx it with saying something stupid about it getting hot in here. But when she stood beside him, when she turned to wave, yeah. Things were heating up.

  And now, as he unfolded rule pages for games he’d never seen before or even heard of, it became absolutely necessary for him to learn if she’d been dating anyone while he’d been gone.

  He could ask her, but he doubted he could keep the raw need for the answer to be “no” out of his face. He could ask his mom, but that idea had drawbacks, too. All the drawbacks.

  But had she? Did she have a guy for any—all—of the years he’d been gone? While he finished school, those last two years after she’d left, he was angry enough that he actually didn’t care. He felt a little sorry for the idea of any guy who would get tangled up in the bizarre game of push and pull that Hadley Booth was so fond of.

  Then there were the BLM years, when he spent grueling summers in jump squads, working himself to literal exhaustion everyday through summer and fall until the snow fell again in October. He passed his winters in classrooms, teaching courses to trainee jumpers, and waiting for the spring so he could go back out again.

  It felt surprising now that she hadn’t been on his mind all that time. Maybe his was an attraction that depended on proximity. Maybe there was nothing more to it than that.

  But this didn’t explain why he woke up thinking of her every morning.

  Or his sudden realization that he had no idea if she was dating anyone now.

  He realized that he’d been counting and recounting discs without any idea of how many there were. He started again, placing all the white discs into a pile. Twelve. Great. Now the blue discs. One, two, three… how many men had Hadley dated since they broke up?

  Start again. Four, five, six, seven, how long could he see her like this, around town by accident and in her shop on purpose without her realizing that he was falling for her all over again?

  Wait. Where had that come from? He wasn’t falling. He was remembering what it had felt like to love her before. When he was a kid. All of that was in the past, except for the very present reactions he was having to her whenever she got close to him.

  How many was that? Eight, nine, ten, eleven, what if he asked her out, like for real? Not that he’d been pretending when he took her out to lunch before, but the impulse had swept over him, and he’d surprised her into saying yes. Just like his dad had always taught him. Don’t give her a chance to think about it for too long, because she might say no. Thanks, Dad.

  At the thought of his dad’s dating advice, Fletcher remembered talking over the breakup with his parents on a rare visit home from school. His mom had always loved Hadley, so he was careful in the way he talked about her when his mom was around. But later, when it was just him and his dad, he admitted that there was no way he could see them ever getting back together. She’d changed too much. They were incompatible now.

  “To be fair,” his dad had said, “you’ve changed, too.”

  “You think?” Remembering it now, his reaction seemed unnecessarily snotty.

  His dad had eyed him sideways but continued. “This is the time you’re settling into who you’re going to be. Things that mattered to you in the past might not matter so much from here on. And things you didn’t care about might become crucial.”

  Fletcher had sighed and flopped down on the couch. Putting his arms behind his head, he stared at the ceiling while he asked, “Did that happen to you? Like, to you and Mom? Did you become different after you were already together?”

  “In a lot of ways, we did,” his dad had said, his voice soft. “But not too much in the ways that mattered most.”

  “Do you think I’m overreacting?” Fletcher had asked.

  His dad moved over to the couch and picked up Fletcher’s legs, sitting under them and letting them drop across his lap. “Fletcher, I know what it means to you to be needed. You know I do. And I don’t think you’ll ever be happy with a woman who can get along just fine with or without you. Not that I’m saying you ought to find a timid little mouse who will wait for you to begin every conversation, open every door, make every decision. That would be miserable. But I think you need someone who can depend on you and who you can depend on. You need to be part of a team. And if Hadley won’t play on the team, she’s got to go. Simple as that.”

  Simple? Maybe. She moved away, and he never went looking for her. But easy? No, it had not been easy.

  Now, sitting here next to this folding table covered with game pieces in a building curated by every delicious, crazy impulse that made Hadley who she was, Fletcher realized that he’d never been interested in dating anyone else for long because nobody was as exciting as Hadley. Nobody was as fun as Hadley. Nobody could match her sense of adventure, of exploration. Living in a BLM shack on the side of a mountain in Montana? It could have been an extended metaphor for his unwillingness to put himself in any dating scene where he’d hold up every woman to the memory of Hadley Booth.

  Because every woman would come up short.

  But it didn’t matter because she’d left. Because she didn’t need him.

  She’d never need him.

  And that was never going to change.

  Especially not now, not now that she was doing everything she wanted to do, all by herself.

  He felt himself slump, and he put his head in his hands.

  When he felt a hand on his shoulder, he jumped up out of his seat.

  “Hey,” Hadley said. “Hungry? We should go get lunch.”

  He shoved the game pieces into the empty box, clearing off the mess in one swipe. “I better not,” he said. He handed her a piece of paper with his notes scrawled on it. “Good luck with this,” he said, gesturing to the room at large. “It’s going to be good.”

  It’s going to be good. He continued to say that to himself as he walked back to his parents’ house. It’s going to be good. He’d figure out how to break himself of the Hadley habit. Again. He’d find a new way to feel that kind of electricity she brought into his life. He’d arrange his schedule so he wouldn’t accidentally see her in town.

  And sooner or later, he’d learn to believe it. It’s going to be good.

  Chapter 12

  Hadley packaged up the next load of donations for Greensburg Cares for Kids and walked it to the fire station. If she hoped to run into Fletcher, she didn’t say so. Whom would she have told? Since the day last week when he’d come to help her at the shop, he’d been cold and silent. So much so that Hadley found reasons to say no to invitations from Rose. She knew she couldn’t say anything about him to Savanna, because Savanna seemed to like him less every day. Hadley would have liked to forget about Fletcher Gates, but her brain had a hard time convincing her heart it was a good idea.

  She waved at Savanna through the station window and propped the huge box against the wall so she could open the door. Not that Savanna was thoughtless, but it wouldn’t have occurred to her to get out of her seat to open the door for Hadley. She chose to see this as a positive thing—Savanna knew Hadley was capable.

  “Sit here and wait for me one minute,” Savanna said. “I have a meeting with the chief and then I have things to tell you.”

  Because these might be things Hadley wanted to know, she agreed to wait.

  Dropping the box in a corner, Hadley blew out a breath and grinned. It was getting cold outside, and afternoons became dark earlier every day. Autumn was Hadley’s favorite time of year. She loved the smell of chimney smoke rising up through the older neighborhoods, the cold nights and warm afternoons, high school football, and pumpkin spice everything.

  This year she’d invited her family to come back to Greensburg for Thanksgiving at her place. Somehow, they’d agreed. It had seemed like such a nice idea until she actually began dealing with logistics.

  Her kitchen held one small bistro table that could technically
be surrounded by four chairs; however, setting four plates on the table would be pushing it. The couch in the living room was comfortable, and everyone could eat with plates balancing on their laps, but the whole equation changed when you added in Edison.

  Every equation changed when Edison and her mom were both involved.

  Hadley’s mom had always been pretty uptight, but after she’d started making embarrassing amounts of money, her uptightness had grown to unheard-of levels of propriety. Apparently, her money taught her that there were certain things that Were Done, and certain others that Were Not Done. Tech jobs Were Done. Seasonal capsule wardrobes Were Done. Vacations to obscure tropical islands Were Done. Tiny dogs in huge apartments Were Done. Spoiler: Huge dogs in tiny apartments? Were Not Done.

  Hadley knew that with her parents and her sister coming for dinner, there was a small chance that they’d want to stay with her, but a significantly better chance that they’d stay in a hotel. She’d heard from Elias at the gym about a guy who’d recently renovated a historic house on the river into a bed and breakfast that was getting some decent attention from regional publications. Elias spent mornings there in the state-of-the-art gym doing personal training and group classes. She pulled out her phone and sent him a text, asking if he’d find out if there were a couple of rooms for the Thanksgiving weekend.

  He answered back right away.

  For you? Anything. I’ll make it happen.

  For my parents, actually, and thanks.

  They’re catering turkey dinner. You want reservations?

  Not a bad idea, but Hadley was certain that Thanksgiving dinner delivered in any way other than homemade was Not Done.

  Can’t make it. But 4 for Friday breakfast?

  Crème brulee French toast…

  (insert yummy noises) I’ll save room.

  And then we’ll work it off.

  She would have preferred to at least think about the decadent breakfast before planning how to minimize the calorie excess, but Elias thought about that kind of thing all day, every day.

  Sleeping arrangements taken care of, Hadley began a list on her phone of what she’d need for the dinner. Turkey. Potatoes. Pie. Rolls. Something green. Cheese platter. Whichever color of wine Was Done with turkey.

  Savanna’s “one minute” meeting was lasting longer than Hadley was willing to wait. Every passing moment was another chance for Fletcher to walk in and find her there and pointedly not speak with her. It was so confusing. She thought that things had been going so well between them, but now he was freezing her out. No thank you. She’d rather not experience that today.

  She closed the notes on her phone and was ready to leave when the door opened from the engine bay and Nick Baxter came into the reception room.

  “Hadley!” Nick looked as happy as he could possibly be to see her.

  “Hi, Nick,” she said. The idea of sitting here waiting for Savanna and chatting with Eager Nick made Hadley tired. “I’m just heading out.”

  “Oh, is that your box of donations?” he asked. “You’re amazing. So much good stuff. On our last call we ended up handing out a bunch of blankets.”

  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. I
n 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.