Every Time I Fall (Orchid Valley 3)

“I missed you this week,” he says softly.

I swallow. “We texted.”

“If you opened that bakery instead of running The Patio, I could see you more.”

That thought had crossed my mind too, but since this is only temporary, that seems like a pretty terrible argument for leaving a steady job I enjoy, working with people I love. Even if I might love a bakery of my own more. “Shh,” I say, climbing the steps. “No talking about that tonight. I still haven’t decided.”

“My lips are sealed.”

Brinley opens the door before we have a chance to ring the bell, and we say our hellos to her and Marston and Kace and Stella. Behind us, Savvy, Smithy, and Layla are heading up the drive.

Everyone slowly trickles into the foyer, chatting and catching up as if most of us don’t work together all week long.

I turn to Layla, who’s checking her phone. “Is your boyfriend coming tonight?”

Sighing, she puts her phone away and nods. “When I talked to him half an hour ago, he said traffic was making him run a little behind, but he should be here soon.”

“Knock, knock!” someone singsongs at the open front door.

We all swing around to the stranger waiting there as Layla runs to him. “You found us!” she says, wrapping her arms around him.

“I told you I would.” He nuzzles her neck for a beat then whispers something in her ear. When they pull apart, he gives her a wink that’s somehow both suggestive and completely adorable.

We all stare. Layla’s boyfriend is, in a word, hot. I shouldn’t be surprised. In fact, I’m a little annoyed with myself for my surprise. Layla is beautiful, and better than that, she’s an awesome person—funny and smart and caring. She’s as worthy of a hot boyfriend as the next girl. Not all guys are hung up on size. I mean, look at Dean. He hasn’t let it stop him. Layla’s boyfriend has that country-boy look with sandy-blond hair and dreamy brown eyes. He’s in faded jeans and a long-sleeve thermal shirt that hugs a very muscular chest.

“Everyone, this is my boyfriend, Brock Ford. Brock, these are my new friends—most of whom work with me.” She laughs awkwardly then goes around the circle, introducing everyone.

“Brock Ford, like the country music YouTube sensation Brock Ford?” Stella asks, gaping.

“Yes, ma’am,” he says.

“I love your music,” Brinley says. “It’s so good. You’re just amazing.”

“Oh, now, I’m not all that,” he says, smiling.

“Don’t gush,” Layla says. “You’ll give him a big head.”

“I promise,” Brinley says, palm to her chest. “No more gushing.”

They all laugh, but I stay silent. I just got a good look at part of myself, and don’t like what I saw. I was shocked that someone like Layla, even as beautiful and amazing as she is, could land a guy as Hollywood-hot as Brock. When my friends were stunned to silence, I assumed they felt the same way, but that wasn’t it at all. They were shocked to find an up-and-coming country music star in their midst. I was the one who thought they were a surprising couple because of her size relative to his hotness.

Layla was right. This is my issue, and I assume everyone else fixates on it as much as I do. It’s not a nice thing to recognize about yourself, and it’s not easy to swallow. I take a deep breath and hold on to the thought. It’d be so much easier to dismiss this realization or to tell myself I wasn’t thinking that, but I don’t want to let myself get away with that kind of crap. At least I see it so now I can work on it.

“Come on.” Marston waves us deeper into the house. “Let’s show you all around.”

* * *

The house is amazing. Marston bought this place back when he first returned to Orchid Valley. He said it was an investment property, but anyone paying attention knew he never intended to give up on Brinley. She was his first love, and from what I can tell, the most important part of his life—even during his years away.

Brinley’s cute as she shows us around. She’s a little bashful about showing us the updates they made. I’d expect someone who grew up in a house as grand as Brinley’s to be comfortable having money—to take it for granted, even. She doesn’t, and I know it makes her feel a little awkward for us to see how they live. Marston worked hard for it, though. He was a homeless teen when the courts sent him to Orchid Valley to live with his aunt. He had to fight the odds, to scratch and claw to get where he is. Now he runs one of the most respected consultation companies in the country.

Brinley shows us the refinished deck overlooking Lake Blackledge, and the newly furnished living room done in a subtle French country style that makes the space look warm and inviting but not overdone. Upstairs, we get to see Cami’s room, which they’ve painted in the palest lavender. Cami’s new loft bed has a desk beneath it with fairy lights twinkling overhead.