20. Abi
20
ABI
Flynn isn’t taking no for an answer.
I’m making him lie to his best friend and employer, so I don’t feel like I can argue anymore anyway. I tuck my phone into my back pocket, take another look at the mess waiting for me, and follow Flynn outside.
I can’t believe the roses came like this. I ordered them to come ready in their vases so all I had to do was place them onto the tables. Now, I have what feels like a billion beautiful roses and twenty-four vases that I somehow have to arrange into wedding-worthy displays. I also have to set up everything else and I have no idea how I’m going to get it all done. I’m sure the logical course of action would be to ask for help … but I’m not ready to give up yet. As generous as Olivia and Violet seem, I don’t know how they’ll react to such a monumentally epic fail. I’m also not sure what they can do because I vaguely remember there’s some farm thing that needs to happen this afternoon that in volves all hands. Violet’s picking Sadie up from school and looking after her until Dallas is done for the day.
Then there’s Flynn, finally right here in front of me and I want to eat him. He looks delectable in his usual jeans and faded t-shirt. It’s a deep blue today and it sets off his hair and eyes. The t-shirt is so old it looks like it’ll fall apart if a strong gust of wind hits it, but I kind of love how Flynn doesn’t give a shit. The worn, comfortable vibe suits him.
I freeze when I step outside and find Flynn already swinging his leg over the back of his bike. Memories from the beach come rushing back. Heat prickles at my skin as I flush and a bolt of lust jolts through my core.
Then I remember the day he first got me on the bike, in my ridiculous skirt. At least I’m wearing jeans today.
My eyes connect with Flynn’s and by the colour in his cheeks and the way his pupils are blown wide, I can guess he’s thinking about the same things I am.
I need to be professional here. He asked me to forget, to pretend it didn’t happen. He’s my friend and I don’t want him to feel weird around me. I don’t want him to think I’m some horny little hussy just after a good time with him. I mean, I am, but I also want to keep this little baby friendship intact. I need to, because in Kauri Creek, Flynn is currently the only friend I have.
There’s Dallas, I suppose, but it feels like we have too much history for our relationship to ever feel like it’s on equal footing again.
I know Flynn’s loyalties lie with the other people at Wildflower Ridge, they’re his family after all, but I like what we have. I like spending time with him.
Most importantly, I just like him.
I’ve missed him since that day on the beach.
I haven’t encountered many people like Flynn in recent years. The ones I’ve spent time with have all been jaded and bitter about life, or too serious and uptight. But Flynn is none of those things.
He’s sunshine and freedom, like riding down a beach on the back of a dirt bike. He’s smiles and jokes and constant positive energy, even though he’d be well within his rights to feel sorry for himself with what life’s thrown his way.
I slide onto the bike behind him, careful to limit contact between our bodies. I’m wearing a sweatshirt and I slip my hands into the sleeves before carefully grasping Flynn’s hips. Shielding my hands with my sweatshirt was a completely pointless exercise because I can still feel the heat of him burning through my fingertips.
“You ready to go?” Flynn twists his head around to check I’m situated, before starting the bike.
“Yep, all good,” I say, trying to sound casual but failing. I sound like I’ve spent the last five minutes choking. Oh, that’s not an image I need in my head right now.
Flynn’s hand lands on my thigh, just above my knee. One simple touch and I want to swoon. “You don’t feel like you’re holding on,” he says as his hand slides higher. Right before he reaches the swell of my ass, he applies pressure and tugs me forward .
I don’t realise what he’s doing until it’s too late and my chest is pressed up against his back, legs bracketing his.
“Better,” Flynn says. “Now, hold on properly.”
I sigh, but wrap my arms around him, leaning my head against his shoulder. “Let’s go,” I say.
Flynn pats my arm where it rests across his stomach. “Don’t worry, Rosie. The flowers will get done. I promise.”
Rosie … That’s new. I’ve noticed Flynn loves a nickname though, calling everyone on the farm some cute version of their name. I guess this flower disaster just got me mine.
I squeeze my arms around him a little tighter. I appreciate his optimism, I just don’t see how it’s actually going to happen.
Lunch is the usual, chaotic affair. Violet’s made scones and there’s sandwich fillings spread across the table, including the delicious bread from the local cafe and bakery, Sugar. That place is my favourite in Kauri Creek. I’ve been finding myself in there on too many mornings to grab a coffee. But spending a few minutes sitting in the bright, airy space admiring the rows of delicious treats lined up within the cabinet is no hardship. There’s pastries and slices, filled rolls and sandwiches, and of course the quintessential Kiwi pies and sausage rolls.
Then there’s the cupcakes and, on the odd occasion, small cakes. They’re like little works of art with swirled frosting and shimmery accents. Colours that would be right at home in the world of My Little Pony. I haven’t actually eaten one yet because my coffee stops are all early morning and it doesn’t seem like the right time to be eating a cupcake like that.
“I love this bread so much,” I say to Violet as she passes a wooden chopping board down the table to me. I take a couple of slices and pass it along to Flynn, who’s fallen into the seat beside me.
Dallas is nowhere to be seen, but Katie and Olivia are across from us, their mouths full of food.
“It’s from Sugar,” Violet says. “Have you been there yet?”
I snort. “Almost every day. It’s kind of embarrassing actually.”
“Nah, that’s accurate. I go there every time I go to town,” Katie says after swallowing her mouthful. “It’s the best place in Kauri Creek, second only to Wildflower Ridge.” She shoots Olivia a wink. Olivia rolls her eyes. “Those cupcakes they do now are to die for.”
“Cupcakes?” Flynn asks, interest suddenly piqued. He’d tuned out for a little bit there.
“Yeah. Like these incredible lemon ones. And the chocolate ones.” She makes a humming noise. “So good. Were they your mum’s? They definitely weren’t grandma’s.”
I blink as my brain takes a moment to catch up. Whose mum? Are we talking about Katie’s grandma? Why would they be her cupcakes?
Flynn shrugs beside me. “Don’t know. I don’t remember her doing cupcakes but maybe.” He focuses on making his sandwich, effectively removing himself from the conversation I’m still not following.
Violet must see it, because she fills in the gaps. “Flynn’s mum used to own Sugar.” She shoots a look in Flynn’s direction, sympathy and sadness all wrapped up in one brief glance, then she returns her focus to me. “After she passed, Katie’s grandma took it over. She used a lot of Isla’s recipes, that were then passed onto the current owner.”
“Oh, that’s pretty cool,” I say. “To carry it on like that.” I glance at Flynn, but he’s still fully focussed on the food in front of him, his movements stiff and jerky.
A phone chimes and interrupts the awkward moment we’re descending into. Olivia pulls hers out of her pocket and gasps.
“Oh my gosh. Look at this.” She holds the phone out to Katie who squeals.
“What is it?” Flynn asks, sandwich halfway to his mouth.
“Puppies.” Olivia hands him the phone. “I have an alert set up for any that come available.”
Flynn places his food back on his plate and holds the phone in his left hand, angling it in my direction so I can see as well, but I still have to lean into him to get a good view. His free hand comes down on my knee and I jerk in surprise. He gives a soft squeeze, then brings the phone a little closer to me, leaving his hand in place. I don’t know what’s going on with us, but this doesn’t seem like the time or place to question it.
Flynn flicks through the pictures. There’s five Border Collie puppies, their little black and white faces utterly adorable.
“Oh, this one,” I say with a small laugh. The puppy is clearly posing for the camera, the look on its face filled with confidence and cheekiness. A lopsided white stripe runs down its face, ending with a tiny nose that’s half pink and half black.
Flynn doesn’t say anything, just scrolls down the screen to read the information. He’s quiet for a long moment, studying the words, then flicking through the pictures again.
Olivia and Katie are chatting about the puppies and if Olivia should get one. Katie is tossing up the pros and cons, as if convincing herself she doesn’t need one.
“Can you send me that?” Flynn asks quietly once he’s finished scrolling and hands the phone back to Olivia. He runs his hand over my knee, gives it a squeeze and lets go. I immediately miss the reassuring weight of his palm.
Olivia blinks at him. “You’re going to get a puppy?” She sounds gobsmacked.
Katie snorts. “Flynny, if you get a puppy you’ll have,” she gasps dramatically, “ responsibilities .”
The girls giggle and Flynn laughs too, but he’s a second behind.
“No more impromptu surf trips,” Olivia says.
“Poop,” Katie adds. “So much poop.”
“I can handle a bit of dog shit,” Flynn mumbles. “But you’re right.” He smiles, but I don’t buy it. “A dog does sound like a bit much responsibility. Wouldn’t want to mess with a good thing.”
“What’s the good thing?” Katie asks, a teasing lilt to her tone.
“My life, Katie Kat. Right now, it’s pretty damn perfect.”