Page 133 of The Runaway Bride of Blossom Branch

How could Laney stand in the way of that? How could she compete?

Like many towns, small or large, Blossom Branch had encompassed the haves and the have-nots. Some kids in Laney and Brit’s high school had graduated and set out for college—eager to test themselves with academic opportunities or high-profile sports careers, and for many, Greek life. Cate Penland had been one of those golden girls.

Laney and Brit had recognized and accepted that their circumstances were far different, Laney’s even more so than his.

As a young woman on the cusp of adulthood, Laney had understood Brit’s need to strike out on his own. To leave the chafing restrictions of a small town, even one as elegant as Blossom Branch. Everything he felt, she felt, but unlike Brit, she hadn’t had a way out. And she hadn’t fought for any dreams of her own. That was on her, not him.

As the sun dropped toward the horizon, the air cooled. Without speaking, she and Brit found their rumpled clothes and got dressed. Once again, he piggybacked her to the car. They made the trip to her house in silence.

Laney wasn’t sulking. That wasn’t her personality at all. But what was there to say?

Because it began to rain just as they got back, she suggested ordering a pizza for dinner, rather than trying to go out. Brit agreed. They took turns showering. She went first and then dithered in front of her closet, looking for something to wear that was comfortable and warm and mildly flattering.

In the end, she chose navy sweatpants and a lemon-yellow cotton knit top that clung to her breasts. She didn’t put on a bra. What was the point?

Her thick wooly socks matched the sweats. A front must have come through. Her not-so-well-insulated house was freezing.

She ordered the pizza and turned on gas logs in the living room. For a moment, she stood in the doorway, trying to imagine what Brit saw. He was a man of the world now. Wealthy. Well traveled.

Laney had eventually finished a four-year community college degree with the help of scholarships and part-time jobs. Any studies beyond high school hadn’t been a real option for Brit under the circumstances, but he had acquired the polish and sophistication that came fromexperiences. She envied him that.

Laney wondered suddenly if he saw her as incredibly unsophisticated. Instead of traveling the world, Laney had chosen to be the good daughter, the ordinary girl, the woman with a steady job and a predictable future.

None of those choices had chafed overmuch until four years ago. Why was she letting Brit make her want things? Her life had been perfectly acceptable before he showed up again.

But had it? Or had she been lying to herself for a very long time?

The pizza arrived before Brit did. The little mom-and-pop Italian restaurant was only two blocks away. Peach-aria had the best deep-dish anywhere in the county.

She grabbed paper plates, napkins and soft drinks from the kitchen and took them to the living room just as Brit appeared from down the hall. He was drying his hair with a towel, and unfortunately, his body was appropriately clothed. Only his feet were bare.

“Something smells amazing,” he said, smiling at her in a way that nearly torched all the resolutions she had made in the last hour.

“I ordered two mediums.” Laney avoided the sofa and took the armchair. “There’s plenty. You want to watch a movie?”

Brit shook his head. “I’d rather talk.”

“I’d rather eat.”

Her joke fell flat when he looked at her strangely.

Laney knew she was acting weird. How could she not? She needed to protect herself ASAP. Brit wasleavingtomorrow. This little slumber party was about to be over. Deep in her heart, she knew she couldn’t sleep with him again.

The decision brought her no joy. Being sensible sucked.

The meal and the rain pounding on the roof cocooned the two of them in cozy comfort. Everything might have been perfect if Brit had been a plumber or an actual carpenter, or even a banker like Laney. He’d always been good at math.

But there was nothing ordinary about Britain Sheffield. And he didn’t belong to Laney.

At ten o’clock she managed a convincing yawn. “I think I’ll call it a night,” she said, not looking at him. “Feel free to stay up as late as you want. You won’t bother me.”

There was one flaw in her plan. She couldn’t escape the living room without passing the sofa on her way out. Brit simply reached for her arm and stopped her.

“What’s wrong, Laney?” he asked.

“Nothing,” she said brightly. “It was a great day.” Then she winced, not looking at him. “Well, not the funeral, but you know what I mean.”

He tugged her wrist until she sat down beside him. “Talk to me. Don’t run away.”

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