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Now the choir sang a number. Mr. Tom’s son said a few words. There was a prayer. Then the pastor stood up a second time and read a letter.
It was Brit’s letter. A tribute to how Mr. Tom had changed his life.
Laney listened in shock, touched by the words. When she glanced sideways at Brit, his eyes were damp. Without overthinking it, she reached out and grabbed his hand. His fingers squeezed hers painfully. “That was beautiful,” she said softly. “What a lovely thing for you to do.”
“It’s not much,” he muttered. “How do you thank someone for believing in you? He changed my life.”
The service ended. Folks began spilling out of the church, many of whom would head over to the cemetery.
“Let’s go,” Laney said. Brit knew the way, of course. But Laney directed him to a small side road that wound around the far side of the property and up onto a shallow rise. Below them, they could see the small green tent for the family and the open grave. “Do you want to get out?” she asked. The sky was blue, and the day was pleasantly warm.
“Yeah.” Brit donned sunglasses.
She wondered if he meant them to be a disguise.
The pastor’s words at the graveside were shorter than the funeral. Laney and Brit couldn’t hear what was being said, but at least the two of them were present to witness Mr. Tom’s final goodbye. Clearly, the pastor was reading some scripture. Then a bagpiper played a mournful rendition of “Amazing Grace” as the casket was lowered, and the family tossed flowers into the gaping hole.
Laney hated funerals. For the most part, they were depressing as hell. Unless, of course, the deceased was in his or her nineties and had lived a full life. Otherwise, Laney always felt weighted down by the inescapable reality of lost hopes and dreams.
“Let’s go,” she muttered. “If you let me drive, you can scrunch down in your seat and put a ball cap over your face while I order lunch at the drive-through. You up for burgers and shakes?”
“Yep.” Brit handed her the keys and used his thumb to wipe a tear from her cheek. “Thanks for coming with me today.” His gaze was whimsical and searching as he kissed her full on the mouth. But it was a tender, grateful gesture, not anything sexual.
Or so it seemed. Laney tried not to reveal how susceptible she was, or how her legs trembled, and her breasts ached. After last night, her body was attuned to his.
They made it through the fast-food line without incident. Perhaps they should have gone home to change, but her house was in the opposite direction.
She found a quiet spot outside of town and pulled off the road so they could eat their meal in peace. Brit took off his jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his crisp white dress shirt. It was warmer now. She inhaled the scent of peach blossoms combined with his familiar aftershave. He smelled like a man should smell. Masculine and appealing, and good enough to give a woman naughty ideas.
When they were done, Brit stuffed his garbage in the paper bag and sighed. “That was great.”
She eyed his muscular forearms. “I guess you have to stay away from junk food to keep in shape.”
He shrugged. “I work out with a trainer for an hour and a half every morning at five thirty. What I eat is my business.”
“Five thirty?”Her voice squeaked. “Now I feel like a slacker.”
His grin curled her toes. “You always did like to sleep in. And I’ve known you to be up at 1:00 a.m. balancing your checkbook.”
The gentle teasing made her blush. “I guess that’s why we weren’t compatible in the long run,” she said.
Now he scowled. “Are you nuts? We werealwayscompatible.”
“If you say so...”
Perhaps Brit was right. They had been a perfect couple. To a point. But Brit wanted to get out of town, and Laney hadn’t been able to see herself tagging across the country with him. Not that he had ever asked. He had hinted. A couple of times.
For better or worse, she had ignored those hints, despite the temptation. Laney had felt an obligation to her single mother, a woman who struggled to raise her only child, and one who had never lived alone. Not only that, but Laney had been mature enough to know that Brit’s dreams of becoming an actor would have been hindered by a wife. Two mouths to feed instead of one.
Suddenly, Brit climbed out of the passenger seat and came around to her side. “I’m going to drive now. I want to see a few places before I have to go home.”
Did he mean “home” as in California, or was that a reference to Laney’s small house? She wasn’t sure, so she didn’t question his remark.
The big, fancy rental had a bench seat. She was able to slide over and let him in without getting out. He checked his mirrors and pulled onto the two-lane highway. At first, she thought he was driving at random, but soon his route seemed oddly specific.
They turned off onto a gravel and dirt road that accessed one of Blossom Branch’s older farms. The couple who owned this spread had both died of old age during the winter. Now the heirs were squabbling over who got to keep the valuable piece of land.
The farmhouse was quaint, but rundown. Therealpièce de résistance was the sprawling peach orchard. The soil was fertile, the trees mature and the harvest one of the best around. The owners had even cultivated their own variety called Sunshine Bliss.
