Page 7 of Accidentally in Bloom

She slammed on the gas and left him standing in the dust, bent over with laughter. He walked to grab Duke, who was sniffing a tree.

If Gray was lucky, that would be the last time he saw the most irritatingly beautiful woman in Fairwick Falls.

Gray pulled his bike into Canon’s Diner and killed the engine. The diner, a Fairwick Falls institution, sat on the corner of the town square, looking out onto the gazebo and nestled between the hardware store and the Maroo Law Office.

He’d planned to treat himself to a full breakfast and pancake stack for his four-year sober anniversary before running into the gorgeous hellcat on the road earlier. Nothing said celebration better than Pop Canon’s apple pie pancakes.

In college, Gray had discovered a knack for fashion photography. It led him to beautiful places and even stronger drugs until the unthinkable happened in front of him. Sobriety had been hard fought at first, but he’d settled in by throwing himself into work. He walked a thin fucking line between boredom and exhaustion every single day.

He let Duke down from his backpack, and as they walked to the diner, Gray thought about all the projects he had in the hopper. The flower farm was doing well. He could plan more expansions, but he should wait until the deal with Frank, well, Frank’s family, went through.

His mentor, Frank, had been the first person to welcome him to Fairwick Falls. He’d helped Gray turn his grandparents’ ramshackle hobby farm into a profitable floral business.

Gray’s heart still felt heavy at the unexpected loss of his friend. He and Frank had always celebrated his sober anniversary at the diner with the most disgustingly sweet thing on the menu. Gray’s eyes pricked with emotion at the thought of doing it without him this year.

Just outside the diner’s door, Gray’s phone buzzed. Seeing the screen, he took a deep breath to steady himself before he answered.

Maybe she remembered the anniversary this year?

“Hi, Mom.”

“Sweetie, do you want pork chops or spaghetti for our monthly dinner?”

A deep sigh hit Gray. How was it comforting to know he wouldn’t be comforted? To know in his bones that he’d be disappointed?

“Either’s fine, Mom.”

His parents only lived two towns over, but sometimes even that felt too close. His father still resented Gray for his addiction, and his mom was trapped in the middle.

“Let me know if you change your mind. What are you up to today?”

“I’m just...” Should he remind her that it was an important day? Nah. “Just heading into Canon’s for some apple pie pancakes.”

“On a random Tuesday?” His mom sounded distracted, chattering to someone that passed by her in the grocery store.

A bone-deep sigh escaped his lips. He had to accept that he couldn’t change her. Had to depend on himself for everything. Including celebration.

“Yep...just felt like pancakes. Look, Mom, I’ve gotta go.”

“Okay, sweetie,” his mom chirped in her sing-song voice. The phone went silent before he could respond.

Gray closed his eyes and took a breath. There was comfort in having your hopes constantly dashed. At least his parents were predictable.

“C’mon. Let’s get some lunch,” he called to Duke. Pop Canon, the geriatric diner owner, had a soft spot for Duke’s hound dog eyes and insisted Duke come in to get his own pup-sized plain hamburger.

Gray and Duke walked in, and the clatter and conversation hit him like a wave of warmth. Canon’s was a small, cozy, casual diner with buttercream walls covered in soccer team photos and had vintage 1960s tables tucked close together, each with a small votive of fresh flowers.

He spotted Nash already in a big booth, and Gray waved to a few friends as he strolled over. Gray clocked Nash’s three-piece suit that stuck out like a sore thumb in the humble, cozy diner. Duke settled down by Nash’s feet and promptly fell asleep.

“Lord Donnelly.” Gray bowed as he slid into the booth. “You didn’t have to get all dressed up for us peasants.” Giving his friend shit was one of the few pastimes Gray still had time for.

Nash shook his head even as he grinned back at Gray. “Some of us have office jobs. We can’t all be as lucky as you.”

Nash had been a trader on Wall Street but moved back two years ago to step in as CEO of his family’s bank. He also took over the title of Fairwick Falls’ most eligible bachelor, much to Gray’s relief.

“What’s this?” Gray flicked a small paper bag in front of Nash.

“Happy four years of sobriety. Have some carbs.” Nash shoved the bag toward him.

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