Growing up all my friends were always so scared of my dad. Not because he’s scary – he’s actually one of the sweetest men you will ever meet – but because of his size. He stands right over six foot three and weighs nearly three hundred pounds, most of which is solid muscle.
It’s so funny seeing him and my mom together. She’s only five three and as petite as they come. Luckily for me, I took after her in that department. I’d hate to be as tall as my dad. Then again, I wouldn’t have nearly as many problems reaching the coffee cups that Tyler insists on keeping in one of the harder to reach cabinets. He thought he was being funny when he brought me home a step stool as a gift, but I thought it was the best present he could have gotten me.
“Your mom is going to be so impressed,” my dad tells me, giving me a little squeeze.
“You sure she won’t just pick apart everything I did differently than she would have done?” I snort.
“I know she gives you a hard time, but she’s really proud of you, Blakely. Even if she doesn’t always have the best way of showing it.”
“I know.” I sigh, letting my eyes travel the length of the eight foot trailer.
We decorated the border with various arrangements of flowers and placed two large hay bales in the center where my mom and I will sit to throw out the candy. There’s also a long pink banner extending down both sides of the trailer, Florence’s Flowers printed out in fancy lettering. It really does look amazing. It came out way better than what I’d sketched out a month ago when I started planning for the parade.
My dad will be driving the truck that pulls the trailer. It’s the same thing we’ve done every year for as long as I can remember. Only this year is the first year my mom hasn’t been in charge of decorating the float, which I know is most likely eating her alive.
I half expected her to show up with my father this morning, but apparently she decided to do a little shopping before heading over. Which is code for my dad refused to let her come with him, because he knew if she did she would take over and we’d likely end up in an argument about how she doesn’t think I’m competent enough to do any of this on my own. I know she trusts my judgment, but my mom has always been a control freak and giving someone else the power to make decisions has never been her strong suit.
“Well, we should probably get this over to the park.” He drops his arm and fishes his keys out of his pocket.
All the floats line up at the park, where the parade will start and circle back around, eventually ending back at the park about forty-five minutes later.
“What about Mom?”
“She’s going to meet us over there.” He opens the passenger door and waits for me to climb in before slamming it shut.
“Awesome. Way to really draw out my anxiety, Mom,” I mutter as my dad settles into the driver’s seat next to me.
“You two are so much alike it’s scary sometimes.” He chuckles, firing the engine of the truck to life.
——
“You really like it?” I ask my mom, digging a handful of candy out of the bucket in front of me before tossing it to a small group of kids standing on the corner.
“I really do.” She gives me a pointed look. “Why do you seem so surprised?”
“Because you’re my mom and you always have something negative to say about everything I do,” I tell her, scooping up another handful of candy.
“I do not,” she disagrees, waving to Mr. and Mrs. Gilbert who live next door to her and my dad.
“You do so.” I chuckle, turning my attention back to the other side of the street.
There are hundreds of people huddled together in a long line stretching down Main Street.
“I think you’re too sensitive.” My mother grins over her shoulder at me, her almost white blonde hair seeming to reflect the sun.
While I may have gotten my mother’s size and shape, I look like my father in every other way. I have his dark hair and dark eyes, and even a dimple on my left cheek, just like him.
“You’re impossible, you know that?” I can’t help but laugh at her.
While my mom and I may disagree on business, or rather she disagrees with me, we’ve always been extremely close. And while sometimes she drives me insane, I wouldn’t change her for anything in the world.
We spend the next several minutes laughing and waving, saying hello to our friends and neighbors while throwing pounds of candy out onto the street. I’m nearing the bottom of my bucket by the time we pull down Sycamore Street, which dead ends into the park.
Leaning over, I grab a couple handfuls of my mom’s candy when she’s not looking, laughing when she catches me out of the corner of her eye.
I’m right about to say something to her when the words die in my throat and in an instant, everything around me slows down.
Asher?
He’s standing a few feet back from the road, a little ways away from the crowd. He’s got his familiar backward baseball cap on and his hands are shoved deep into the front pockets of his worn jeans.
For a minute I think I’m seeing things. That maybe it’s someone who looks like Asher and after the dream from last night I’m a little out of sorts. I blink and then slowly reopen my eyes, and my initial thought confirmed. It is Asher.
My heart speeds inside my chest and adrenaline rushes through my body. The moment our eyes meet I swear I can feel it. The familiar buzz that always surrounded us anytime Asher and I were together.
Recognition flashes across his face and a slow smile starts to spread across his mouth.
Anger whips through me with so much force I have to grip the edges of the hay bale to hold myself in place.
He disappears for six years and has the nerve to smile at me like we’re old friends?
I want to look away. I want to act like I’m completely unaffected by his unexpected appearance, but I’m not that good at hiding my emotions. I’m sure he can read how I’m feeling on every inch of my face.
Anger. Joy. Sadness. Elation. Confusion. More anger. I feel every one with so much intensity that for a long moment I forget how to breathe. It isn’t until my chest starts burning that I pull in my first real breath after what feels like minutes.
“Blakely, will you hand me...” My mom stops mid-sentence when she catches sight of my face.
I feel her eyes on me before she follows my line of sight. Her surprised gasp followed by her hand on my forearm tells me that she sees him.
“I didn’t know he was back.” I hardly hear her through the ringing in my ears.
“Neither did I,” I reply once my dad turns the corner and I finally lose sight of Asher in the crowd.
By the time my dad pulls the truck over several moments later, my heart is still pumping so hard I feel like it may very well beat straight out of my chest.
“Blakely,” my mom says softly next to me.
“Don’t, Mom,” I cut her off. “So he’s back. It doesn’t change anything,” I say, quickly standing the instant my dad kills the engine.
I turn, jumping off the back of the trailer before making a bee-line for the restrooms, suddenly feeling like I might lose the contents of my stomach at any moment.
It doesn’t change anything, I say to myself as I trek up the small hill leading to the brick building where the restrooms are located. It doesn’t change anything.
But if that’s true, then why does it feel like it’s already changed everything?
Chapter Five
Blakely
“Hey.” I jump when I feel arms slide around my middle from behind. I turn my head just in time to see Tyler’s face seconds before it dips into the crook of my neck.
“Hey.” I plaster on a smile even though smiling is the last thing I feel like doing. “You made it.”
“Like I would miss it,” he tells me, pulling back before turning me in his arms. “The float looks amazing. You did such a good job on it. Was it ‘mother approved’?”
“It was.” I nod, fighting against the swell of nerve
s that have been building in my stomach since laying eyes on Asher about a half hour ago.
“See, you worried yourself sick over nothing.” He grins.
“Yeah, I guess so.” I blow out a breath.
“Everything okay?” He cocks his head slightly, his brown eyes locked on mine.
“Yeah, just tired,” I lie.
“You didn’t sleep well last night.”
“I didn’t.”
“Probably just nerves over today.” He tucks a section of hair behind my ear. “But now the hard part is over.”
“Thank goodness.” I force myself to relax a little.
“What do you say we go grab a bite to eat? There’s a taco truck over there that I’m dying to try.” He gestures to his right.
“You and tacos.” I smile, shaking my head at him.
“Don’t act like you don’t love them too.”
“I guess you got me there.”
“Think I can take her off your hands?” He looks past me to where my parents are talking next to the truck.
“Of course.” My dad nods. “You two go enjoy the festival. We will finish up and join you later.”
“You’re all clear.” Tyler turns his attention back to me. “What do you say, babe? Tacos?” He pouts out his bottom lip playfully.
“Tacos,” I agree, even though the thought of eating anything makes my already queasy stomach turn.
We make our way hand in hand through the crowd that has begun to filter in from the parade. All of the food trucks and game booths are already set up, with many already forming lines.
I stand silently next to Tyler, looking nervously into the crowd while he orders for us both. I’m still not able to fully comprehend that Asher is back. I know it was him, but my mind hasn’t quite grasped this fact yet.
“Can you grab those?” Tyler snaps me out of my haze and I turn to see him holding two paper baskets of food. It takes me a moment to realize he’s referring to the drinks sitting on the ledge of the food service window in front of us.
“Yeah.” I quickly grab the two drinks before following him to one of the nearby picnic tables. I set the cups on the table before sliding into the seat across from Tyler.
“You sure you’re okay?” he asks, picking up a taco out of his basket before taking a large bite, his eyes not leaving my face as he chews.
“Yeah.” I nod, reaching for a taco even though the last thing I want to do is eat. I force myself to take a bite, and while it tastes really good, my appetite is simply nowhere to be found.
He waits until I swallow before asking, “These are really good, huh?”
“They are.”
“I don’t know why, but it seems like food trucks always have the best food.”
“That’s because they do.” I shrug, taking another bite.
“So about next Saturday, I told Derek we’d meet him and Sarah at the fundraiser.”
I finish chewing and swallow before answering. “Okay, yeah, that sounds good.”
“Okay, I just wanted to make sure that wouldn’t interfere with anything you have going on.”
“Nope. Mom has already agreed to close the shop for me that day so I’m all yours.”
“That’s what I like to hear.” He winks, causing a small smile to spread across my mouth.
Tyler is such an amazing guy. I don’t know why I’m sitting here obsessing over a man I haven’t seen in six years when I have someone like Tyler in my life. I try to remind myself of this fact, but it doesn’t lessen the effect that seeing Asher earlier today has had on me.
We make small talk while we finish our food. Even though I started out with no desire to eat, I manage to scarf down two tacos and a large Diet Coke.
We spend the next couple of hours walking around the festival with my parents who we met up with shortly after we finished eating. We stopped and talked to some of the regulars from the flower shop, neighbors, and friends; browsed some of the jewelry and clothing vendors that are set up along the perimeter, and stopped to get candy apples before my parents went off on their own.
As the afternoon turned to evening, I found myself thinking less and less about Asher. I occasionally found myself scanning the crowd for him, but I didn’t really mean to. I couldn’t help but look for him without really thinking about it.
Tyler kept me occupied, though. He’s always been good at pulling me out of my head and forcing me to enjoy myself. He insisted we stop at every game we passed, and while neither of us had much luck winning, he did manage to win me a stuffed panda toward the end that we promptly named Padma the Panda.
“Were you wanting to head home soon or do you want to stay and watch the band and fireworks?” he asks, dropping an arm over my shoulder as we head back in the opposite direction from where we came.
“I think I’m ready to call it a day,” I admit.
As much as I would love to stay and enjoy the rest of the festival, I feel dead on my feet. All I want to do is go home and relax in a hot bubble bath for the next hour.
“What do you say we go find your parents and let them know we’re leaving?”
“Yeah, that sounds good.” I snuggle into Tyler’s side, wrapping my arm around his back while securing Padma the Panda with my other arm.
“You really like that panda, don’t you?” He looks down at the way I’m holding the stuffed animal, amusement dancing in his eyes.
“I love her,” I tell him, looking down at Padma before turning my gaze back up to him. “Just think, when we have a child someday we can give the panda to him or her as their first stuffed animal.”
“Seems appropriate. Baby’s first stuffed animal is the first stuffed animal Daddy won for Mommy.” The way he smiles around the sentence makes my heart soar in my chest.
“To be fair, it’s the only stuffed animal you’ve won for me,” I tease.
“I’ve got time to line a few more up.”
“Yeah, if you wanna spend a hundred dollars trying to win a five dollar stuffed animal.” I snort.
“Is that your way of saying I’m not very good at carnival games?” he fakes offense.
“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” I stifle a laugh.
“I hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but you weren’t any better.”
“I guess you’ve got me there,” I concede, bumping my hip against his.
He laughs, pulling me off the pathway into the open green space of the park, taking the short cut toward the street where he parked his car.
There’s a small group of people huddled next to a tree a few feet in front of us. It doesn’t take me long to recognize two of them – Todd and Johnnie – two guys I went to high school with. I raise my hand in a half wave as we pass, but freeze mid-motion when I realize who they’re talking to.
Our eyes meet and I stumble forward, nearly losing my footing. Tyler’s arm tightens around me and he chuckles, clearly mistaking the misstep as me being my clumsy self.
I watch Asher’s eyes jump from me to Tyler and then back to me, his forehead creasing as he takes in the intimate way we’re walking.
My stomach rolls and a tight knot forms at the base of my throat. Not knowing what to do, I dart my gaze forward and quicken my strides, wanting to get away from him as quickly as possible.
We don’t make it far before his familiar voice washes over me.
“Blakely!” he hollers and I hear the ground crunching beneath his feet as he jogs toward us.
Tyler pulls us to a stop, his gaze going to Asher right as he reaches us.
It takes me several long moments before my eyes follow Tyler’s, but the moment they do a rush of emotion washes over me. And I’m not sure which emotion I want to act on more. Burst into tears or rear back and punch Asher right in his perfect face.
He’s exactly as I remember, yet so different at the same time. His light brown hair is longer now, curling up around his ears from underneath his backward baseball cap, two day old scruff lining his jaw. He’s filled out a lot, as well
. His once lean frame is now broader and more defined. He’s every bit the boy I fell in love with all those years ago. But he’s not that boy anymore. Instead, I’m standing face to face with a man I don’t know. And the last six years have only made him even more irresistible.
“Hey” he breathes out, his eyes locked on mine.
“Hi,” I reply past the lump in my throat.
We stand in awkward silence for a long moment before Tyler shifts his weight from one foot to the other, reminding me that he’s standing next to me.
“Sorry.” I shake my head, trying to gather my bearings enough to form a coherent sentence. “Tyler, this is Asher,” I say, glancing up at my fiancé.
“Asher.” He says the name like he’s trying to place it, recognition finally flashing across his face. His arm around my shoulder instantly tightens.
“I didn’t know you were back in town,” I stutter, feeling the need to fill the space.
“I just got back yesterday.” He rocks back on his heels. “I ran into your mom and dad earlier. Your mom said you’ve taken over Florence’s. That’s amazing.” The small talk makes it seem like this is a normal day and seeing each other is nothing out of the ordinary.
“You talked to my mom and dad?” I question, fighting to keep my voice even.
“Yeah. They seem to be doing well.”
“They are,” I confirm, not sure why I feel the need to make polite conversation when I should walk the hell away.
“I’m going to give you two a minute,” Tyler interrupts abruptly. He turns and looks down at me. “Meet me at the car when you’re ready?” His gaze holds mine for a brief moment as if he’s trying to reassure me that everything will be okay.
Tyler knows everything about Asher. He knows how badly he hurt me and how long it took me to recover after he left. And even knowing all that, he understands the fact that seeing Asher has thrown me and he’s willing to give me time to sort this out.
“Yeah, okay,” I agree. “I’ll be there in just a minute.”
He drops a quick kiss to my forehead, throwing a warning look toward Asher before turning and quickly walking away.
Love Me Like You Won't Let Go Page 3
