Too Distracting

  “It’s not that they don’t want me to, the problem is that they don’t think I can do it. They want to give me the shop, but to keep it as is. They’re worried it’ll fail if I try to change things.”

  Laurel was frowning as she talked, and I didn’t blame her; it sounded like her parents were still the same assholes they’d always been. Part of the reason Laurel was always at my house growing up was because she didn’t want to be at hers.

  “So, they have conditions for you taking over the shop… And, if you have a solid business plan, you think they’ll be okay with the changes you want to make,” I surmised.

  Laurel nodded. “I’m hoping if I have a great business plan, one that gets the bank to agree to a business loan so that I can get the necessary equipment and everything, they will see that I am serious and that it is possible for me to make the flower shop even more successful.”

  Knowing her parents, I wasn’t sure that was true, but I’d promised Jasmine I’d help Laurel out, so that’s what I’d do. I couldn’t promise her parents would change their minds and get on board, but I’d agreed to the business plan, and that’s what Laurel would get.

  “Right,” I began, turning on my computer and logging in as I spoke. “Get with Carol and set up a meeting for next week. In that week, I want you to write out the structure of your proposed business, your goals for the business, and your financial needs. I also want you to list any potential employees, and list their skills and experience. We’ll focus on that next week, and they we’ll start a marketing plan, sound good?”

  When I’d started listing what I wanted her to do, Laurel had whipped out her phone and began jotting down notes.

  At least she’s taking this seriously, I thought. I had to admit, one small part of me had thought this whole meeting could be a hoax, but it seemed Laurel was being genuine. Huh, maybe she’s grown up some after all.

  Laurel looked up from her phone and asked, “Is that all? Are you sure you don’t need a list of past lovers as references?”

  “Why would I need that?” I asked, honestly bewildered.

  “I don’t know,” Laurel whispered, her face turning bright red.

  She stood up suddenly, clutching her phone tightly in her hand and saying a little too loudly, “Well, okay then. I’ll get with Carol and get this information for next week,” then she walked out of my office like her ass was on fire.

  I watched her leave, shaking my head and dismissing my earlier thought about her growing up; she was obviously just as immature as ever. Hopefully, after a couple of meetings we’d have her business plan squared away and she’d be out of my hair.

  Then I could go back to ignoring her at family gatherings, and my life could get back to normal.

  4

  Laurel

  A list of my past lovers as reference? Had I really said that?

  I mentally slapped myself all the way to my car after leaving Dillon’s office at Lewis Sporting Goods. I could just die.

  Dillon had seemed his usual crabby self, at least where I was concerned, but seemed to thaw out when he started talking about the business plan. Then I’d gone and made that stupid comment and he’d hardened up again.

  Damn me and my big mouth…

  No, I mentally chastised myself, stopping in the parking lot as I did. That’s Travis talking. So, you got nervous and said something you shouldn’t have, so what, people do it all the time. Plus, it was to Dillon, someone who’s known you your entire life. Give yourself a break.

  I took a deep breath, literally shook it off, by wiggling my shoulders, then my arms and finally my feet, and proceeded to my car.

  Once inside, I pulled out my phone, double checked that I’d input the date and time Carol had given me correctly, and promised myself that next time I met with Dillon, I’d be poised and professional.

  And I wouldn’t mention my past sexual partners. Not that there were a ton. Four or five, maybe … no, six!

  I’d forgotten about Ricky Jefferson at The Stagger Inn during college. Ugh, that was a night to forget.

  I drove down Main Street on my way back to my apartment, waving at old Mrs. Dingle, who was sitting on a bench by the pond, feeding the ducks. I smiled as I took in the colorful awnings that lined the streets. I’d missed my town while I was in Houston, I just hadn’t realized how much until I’d come back home.

  I’d originally left to go to school after graduation, but then I met Travis and went with him to Houston. Unfortunately, it took me too long to realize I was in a toxic relationship, and then even longer to get out of it.

  Travis hadn’t wanted to let me go, but eventually, I found my strength again. I also rediscovered the Laurel who’d been hiding deep inside, beaten back by my boyfriend’s verbal assaults, and knew I had no choice but to leave.

  The way I’d been living hadn’t been living at all. I’d become a shadow of the girl I used to be and I was still fighting my way back into the light.

  Sadly, any hope I’d had of my parents being there to build me back up again was quickly eradicated when they’d called me foolish for leaving the man who’d been taking care of me. A man who’d proposed and I’d turned down. Rather than stay with them, as I’d initially expected, I’d walked right back out the door and gone to Jasmine.

  My best friend had welcomed me home with open arms and given me a place to crash while I got back on my feet.

  Well, I wasn’t quite on my feet, but I’d recently moved into my own apartment, which I loved, and was working toward getting the business of my dreams up and running. With Dillon’s help, I just knew the bank would give me the loan I needed, and Party with Laurel would be more than just a doodle in my notebook, it would be a reality.

  My phone rang as I pulled into my parking spot, and I answered it as I got out of the car.

  “Hey, Jazz,” I said after seeing her name on the screen.

  “How’d it go with Dillon? Was he a big butt as usual, or did he actually help?” My best friend asked, always ready to rib her twin even if he wasn’t around.

  “He was fine,” I stated, then proceeded to tell her what we’d discussed. Well, everything except the part where I’d brought up my sex life. “So, I’ll go back next week and hopefully leave with a plan on paper.”

  “Good, see, I told you he’d be happy to help. Sometimes Dillon needs a little nudge. So we still on to go to the bar tonight?”

  Crap, I’d totally forgot. All I really wanted to do was go upstairs and veg out.

  “Um, I don’t know,” I started, but Jasmine cut me off.

  “Don’t even think about bailing on me, Laurel. I’ve been out of town for weeks and I’m only home for a few days before I have to go again. I need bestie time.”

  Jasmine always knew what to say to get me to do what she wanted, she always had. I’d gotten in more trouble because of Jasmine’s pranks than I could remember, and she was the biggest reason that Dillon had always thought I was a huge pain in the ass.

  “Okay, fine, but just for a while … and, no shots … and, you’re buying dinner.”

  “No. Maybe. And, no problem,” was Jasmine’s reply.

  “I’m serious, Jazz, I don’t want to do shots,” I said as I walked up my stairs and put the key in my lock. “Last time you had me dancing on tabletops and kissing the bartender. I’m putting my foot down this time.”

  “We’ll see,” Jasmine said with a laugh, then added, “See you at seven,” and hung up.

  With a sigh, I shut the door behind me and put my things on the table by the door. I took in my pretty blue couch with floral pillows that I’d lovingly picked out, and the dark-gray rug Jasmine had given me as a housewarming present.

  My living room was currently my favorite part of my apartment, probably because it was the only room that was furnished.

  My bed was currently an air mattress, and my dresser was made out of cardboard. I wasn’t living quite the way I’d thought I’d be at twenty-eight, but at least I was back on the right track.
br />   “Hi, Princess, did you miss me?” I cooed to my tabby cat, who was meowing at me as she sauntered in from the bedroom.

  I picked her up and snuggled her close, much to her dismay, then went to feed her, which is what she really wanted. Travis had always told me I couldn’t have a cat, because I could barely take care of myself, so there was no way I’d ever be able to care for another living thing.

  As I put Princess down on the counter and filled her dish, I mentally gave Travis the finger.

  5

  Dillon

  “You’re looking tired, Dillon,” my Aunt Annabeth said when I walked up to the bar.

  My cousin Gabe’s parents ran the local bar and grill. The theme was half biker bar, half sports bar, and it was one of my favorite spots in the world. Great food, free drinks, and the best company in the world.

  “I’ll sleep when I’m dead,” I retorted, shooting my aunt a grin as she slid a dark beer my way.

  “Your cousins are over there,” she said, lifting her chin toward the large booth in the corner, by the pool tables.

  “Thanks, did they already order?”

  “Yeah, what are you having?”

  “I’ll take the Philly, extra cheese.”

  “You got it.”

  “You’re the best,” I told my aunt as I picked up my beer and took a drink.

  “Mmmmhmmm,” she muttered, then took off toward the kitchen.

  “Look who the cat dragged in,” Gabe said when he caught sight of me, standing to clap me on the back. “Didn’t know if you’d made it back today or not.”

  “Got back this morning,” I replied, turning my attention to our other cousin, Reardon, who’d stood to give me a hug.

  Reardon was huge. At six feet six inches, he towered over my six three. I could tell he’d went home from the office before coming here, because rather than a suit, he was wearing jeans and a Walking Dead T-shirt.

  “Glad you’re home,” Reardon said with a grin as he took his seat.

  “Only for about two weeks, then I have to go to Chicago for a few days. There’s a convention that I’ve been wanting to attend. The only downfall is the charity event they’re doing this year is a formal dinner and ballet. So, not only do I have to put on a monkey suit, and find a plus one, but I have to watch a ballet. Why the heck are they having a ballet at a sporting conference anyway?” I grumbled as I slid into the booth.

  “Because dance is a sport, you block head,” my sister said as she came to stand next to our booth.

  Never one to pass up the chance to needle my twin I said, “Yeah, you would think that.”

  Jasmine’s jaw clenched and the famous red-head temper that we both shared was about to let loose on me.

  I shot her a grin, to egg her on all the more, but Gabe broke in and said, “You know he’s just giving you shit, Jazzy. How about you join us for a drink?”

  Jasmine paused and took a deep breath and I knew she was counting to ten in her head, so by the time she spoke, her anger had fizzled out. “I’m meeting someone, but maybe later, if you old men hang around that long.”

  “Hey,” Gabe replied, at the same time Reardon stated, “We’re not old.”

  The fact was, Gabe had an infant at home, and Reardon, a pregnant fiancé, so Jasmine was probably right on target in assuming that they’d be calling it an early night. Which was fine by me. I could use an early night myself.

  That doesn’t mean I have to leave alone, I thought as I scanned the bar for prospects.

  I tried to keep my casual affairs to women I met while traveling, or who were in town temporarily. It had been a few years since I had a serious relationship, and I chose not to have flings with women I knew and would see daily when in Cherry Springs.

  Jasmine just laughed in response and told Gabe, “I can’t wait to come by and get some Evie time in tomorrow before I leave again,” then turned to me and asked, “Breakfast Monday?”

  “Sounds good,” I replied, knowing we had a lot of information to share with each other from our trips.

  Gabe, Reardon, and I caught up while we ate, which mostly consisted of talking about the latest football game, discussing our cousin Serena finally moving back home for good, and whether or not a new Indiana Jones movie was a good idea.

  In other words, it was a nice evening of hanging out with the guys. No work. No pressure. No drama. Just the way I liked things.

  Gabe was starting to make his excuses to leave when long blonde hair and legs that went on for days snagged my attention. I turned to the bar to see the blonde, bent over slightly as she leaned against the rich wood surface. She was wearing a short sundress, which showcased her tanned legs beautifully and did wonders for her ass.

  Her hair was in thick curls down her back, hitting midway, and would look perfect wrapped around my fist.

  I was about to tell the guys goodnight and go make a play when I heard her very familiar laugh and saw her turn in profile to talk to someone next to her.

  “Shit,” I muttered, turning back to my beer as I tried to erase the dirty thoughts I’d just had about Laurel from my mind.

  “What’s wrong?” Reardon asked, turning in his booth to look behind him. “What, Laurel? You need to get over that, man. That shit happened when you were kids. She’s an adult now, and she could use all the friends she can get.”

  “What does that mean?” I asked, wondering what he knew that I didn’t, and why I couldn’t shake the image of her ass from my brain.

  “Not my story to tell,” Reardon responded, then he and Gabe both stood. “I need to head out, too. My girl’s craving some mint chocolate chip, so I need to hit the store on the way home.”

  “Whipped,” I quipped, even though I was beginning to realize how lucky both my cousins were.

  “You know it,” Reardon returned with a grin, not offended in the least.

  “You heading home?” Gabe asked.

  “Nah, I’m going to stick around for a bit,” I replied, having just spotted a good-looking brunette, whose face I hadn’t seen practically every day of my formative years, glancing my way as she sipped a margarita.

  Gabe followed my gaze and joked, “No glove, no love.”

  To which I replied, “Never doubt it.”

  6

  Laurel

  It felt like I’d been punched in the stomach, and my throat was burning, as I watched Dillon walk out of the bar guiding a gorgeous brunette with his hand on the small of her back.

  I always fooled myself into thinking it would get better, but it never failed to hurt anytime I saw Dillon with another woman. It didn’t matter if I was with someone else, or if I knew he was going to be somewhere with a date, it freaking killed each and every time.

  “Would you like another, Laurel?” Shane, the bartender, asked. And not even the sexy cadence of his Australian accent eased the pain in my gut.

  “Uh, yeah,” I began, tearing my eyes away from the now closed door to look at the devilishly handsome Aussie. His dirty-blonde hair had grown out quite a bit, making him look like the quintessential surfer. “How about another margarita and a shot of Patron on the side?”

  “You got it,” Shane said with a wink.

  Why can’t I forget about Dillon and go for Shane? I asked myself, leaning across the bar to get a better view of his ass. But, although it was magnificent, there was nothing there. No zip, zing, or tingle when I looked at Shane.

  Sometimes his accent gave me a tingle, but it was nothing like the electric current I felt whenever I was around the boy who’d been in my dreams since elementary school.

  “Whatchya gettin’?” Jasmine asked as she shoved in next to me.

  Jasmine was my girl, my bestie, the person I told everything, even what an ass Travis had been. She’d tried to get me to leave him years ago, but I wouldn’t listen, always thinking I knew him better. But, I couldn’t tell her about my feelings for Dillon.

  Once, when we were in high school, Karla Jenkins, a girl we’d been friends with for over
a year, had come to Jasmine’s house and we’d found her kissing Dillon on the back porch. Jazzy had lost her mind and cut Karla out of her life. She’d said a friend should know better than to go after her brother, and had felt like Karla used her just to get close to Dillon.

  I’d known then that I’d take the secret of my feelings for Dillon to the grave.

  Jasmine was the most important person in my life, and there’s no way I’d do anything that could possibly make me lose her.

  Luckily, it was a moot point, since Dillon didn’t even like me as a friend, let alone want to lock lips, or anything else, with me. So, my secret crush had remained just that, and I’d spent the years grateful to be Jasmine’s person, even as I longed for Dillon to look at me differently.

  “Margarita with a Patron chaser,” I replied.

  “Oh, that sounds good,” Jasmine said, then leaned against the bar and shouted, “Make that two,” at Shane, who shot a sexy grin at her.

  “And what were you looking at?” Jasmine whispered, causing me to panic.

  Thinking she’d seen me glaring daggers at Dillon and the brunette, I stuttered, but then she grinned, lifted an eyebrow, and tilted her head toward Shane.

  “Oh,” I breathed, relieved. “I was checking out Shane’s ass.”

  “How’d you like it?” Shane asked loudly, causing me to blush.

  “Turn around,” Jazzy ordered, and when he complied, she announced, “Bite-able.”

  “We can schedule a taste test whenever you’d like, beautiful.”

  “Gah, he’s such a flirt,” Jasmine said, swinging her head toward me and wrinkling her nose.

  “He’s totally into you, you should go for it,” I said, repeating this for probably the zillionth time.

  Jasmine shook her head, as usual, and replied, “He’s too much of a player. Plus, he knows how hot he is, and what his accent does to us … I need someone who’s willing to put in a little work. It comes too easy for Shane.”