Chapter 20
JUNIPER
“I give it an eight.”
“An eight?” Crew barks, spooning the gooey tiramisu into his mouth again. “There’s no way. This is fucking delicious,” he mumbles with a mouthful.
I use my spoon to dip into the peach cobbler. The buttery crumbs fall apart as I break through the crust, molten peaches meeting the cold metal. My mouth waters just watching it. Lifting the spoon to my mouth, my eyes roll to the back of my head as I take a bite.
“Now this”—I point to the cobbler with the spoon—“is a ten out of ten. Hands down. No questions asked. I hope you have this baby patented or whatever they call it in the restaurant business because god, I could eat this cobbler every day for the rest of my life.”
“Us Georgia folks love our peaches.” Crew laughs, reaching for a bite himself.
Most people would have checked out amidst my long-winded ramble, but not Crew.
He’s locked in on a smile, simply listening.
Watching me devour the ten-plus desserts littered across the kitchen countertop.
“Pretty sure we’re also breaking a million health rules by sitting up here,” I say, mind on a spinner reel.
Crew pats the metal table beneath us, not a care in the world about anything but right now. “I won’t tell if you don’t.” He winks, and I think I’m in trouble. Actually, I don’t think. I know I’m in trouble.
Somewhere between moving here two months ago and today, I gained a really good friend. A really great friend, actually. And it’s come to my attention that I want my great friend to kiss me. To be more than just my friend.
I hate myself for not being more careful and guarding my heart.
I should have listened to the warning signs going off in my brain the first day I met him. How stupid of me to think dating other men and still hanging out with Crew would establish the no-go line clearly.
If my brain had it her way, I’d be legs spread on this table right now, giving the health inspector something far dirtier to worry about.
“So, I can’t believe Wynonna is your grandmother. That’s still so bizarre to me,” I tell him, my mind unable to get over the shock I felt at that moment in the diner.
“I’m pretty lucky, huh?” Crew smiles, and just like with the hot chocolate, whipped cream coats his mustache. But I don’t hold back from helping. I am a giver, after all.
“Wait. Here,” I mutter softly, reaching toward him.
“You’ve got some whipped cream in your mustache.
” My thumb glides across the coarseness of his scruff, not missing the connection with his skin all the while.
The air in the room evaporates, and I think this is the closest we’ve been to intimately touching.
All it would take is drifting an inch to the left, and my thumb would meet his lips.
“Thanks.” Crew’s voice is hoarse, and the delivery of the one-syllable word is choppy. I quickly retreat, eyeing the remainder of the desserts along the table.
“I think…” I contemplate my choice, deciding on the molten lava cake.
“You are the luckiest. Wynonna has been more of a mother to me since I moved here than my own. I can’t believe I didn’t figure it out.
When you left the diner, I searched the walls for photos of you.
Lo and behold, there you were. In random places with all your photo ops, interview articles, and player cards. I don’t know how I missed it.”
“Maybe you weren’t looking hard enough.”
Maybe so. “It’s pretty remarkable. She’s proud of you.”
A look of compassion crosses his face, but it’s mixed with an edge of sorrow.
“Her and Gramps are the only living grandparents I have left. They’ve been good to me.
For a while, I’d go a long time without seeing them.
Addie, too. Not for any particular reason, but because life, I guess.
This past year, though, they’ve gotten really close with Addie and even me. It’s been nice.”
“It must be hard to balance everything in your life, Crew. It seems like there’s always someone who needs you for something. That’s a lot of pressure.”
He nods, spinning his spoon between his fingers and glancing at the floor.
“It’s exhausting. But if I’m being truthful, I feel the weight of it less and less now.
Maybe because I know I’m working on it. I don’t know.
It could really just be some twisted reality I tell myself so I can make it through the season with a clear head.
But I’ve got people in my corner, and that’s more than most can say. ”
Me. I know he’s thinking about me.
I’m not bothered by his admission. Not when I agree wholeheartedly.
“I think the fact that you acknowledge that is what’s important.
Everything will fall into place. And coming from someone who moved here having only one person in her corner, I can now confirm that it gets better.
” I reach for his hand, needing him to see how grateful I am for his friendship.
“New people come into your life when you least expect it and prove that all that loneliness from before was really just temporary. I’m one of the lucky ones who met her people later on in life, and I’m okay with that. It brought me here.”
I’m not really sure what Crew’s thinking, his eyes resting with mine so sincerely.
I say resting because there’s a calmness to his disposition that makes me soften even more.
It almost feels like relief. I can feel it when his hand grips mine, only to unclench the closer our fingers join.
When his thumb crests the web of my hand, I know he’s finally steadied.
“Will you do something for me?”
A breath that feels like it’s been bottled up inside me for decades leaves my lips. “I can try.”
“Will you pretend with me for a moment? Pretend we’re not Juniper and Crew. Pretend we’re not us.”
Something stirs in my chest, accompanied by a flutter of butterflies. I’m not sure where he’s going with this, but I’m desperate to find out. “Okay. I can pretend with you. Who should we be then?”
Relieved to hear my answer, he thinks about my question. “How about I be Hugh?”
“Sticking to the same rhyming family. Got it.” I nod my understanding. “Then, you can call me Lavender.” He raises a brow, and I clarify. “It’s all I could think of, okay? Not much rhymes with Juniper.”
“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Lavender,” Crew holds out his hand to shake.
I return the gesture, but unlike a normal meet-cute, he doesn’t let go. “Nice to meet you, Hugh.”
Tug.
The softest, most gentle tug inches me closer.
“Crew,” I whisper.
He leans forward. Not by much, but enough to send my heart rate skyrocketing. “It’s Hugh. Remember?”
I gulp, nodding slowly. Our faces are less than a foot away, every decadent dessert imaginable surrounding us, and yet his plush lips and serene hazel eyes are all I see. All I feel.
Tenderness. My feelings for Crew are far deeper than infatuation. They’re tender and organic. He was never just my friend. Not when my feelings are this profound.
“Right. Yes. Hugh,” I sigh. “What now?”
“We’re gonna play a game. I’ll make it quick. It has to be quick,” he rushes, leaving me no choice but to follow. Not like he’d have to drag me.
“Okay. Let’s play.”
“Truth or dare,” he states, not asking me, but I seem to have missed that.
“Da—” I start to answer, but he beats me to it, anxious to get somewhere. The where part is what I’m still not sure about.
“Ask me truth or dare, Doc.”
I hear nothing but my own heartbeat. “Truth or dare?” I’m pretty sure that came out as a whimper, Crew’s tone decreasing in volume.
“Truth.”
“Okay…” I draw out, thinking of a question, but don’t dare move away. Not when the most handsome man in the world has his undivided attention on me.
Too bad he doesn’t give me a chance. “I want to kiss you more than I’ve ever wanted anything. There. That’s my truth.”
Oh my. “I…I…” I stutter, searching for the words to best express how immensely I want that too. But I’m not sure I should.
“Your turn,” he insists, my body buzzing as his forefinger meets the side of my cheek and tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “Pick dare, Lavender.”
Everything about this game is childish, but right now none of that matters. There’s no golden standard to follow when it’s just us.
Lavender. My pretend name. Between Addie and Crew, I’ve got loads of them. But right now, in this very moment, we’re no longer us. We’re Lavender and Hugh. Rules don’t apply.
“Dare.”
“I dare you to kiss me. Kiss me and please don’t stop.”
I think I’ve waited my whole life to be kissed by Crew Briggs. The moment our lips crash, I can confidently say I’ve experienced thirty-two years of subpar kisses. His velvety groan bounces between our lips while two large hands tangle between the strands of my hair.
Our kiss is passionate. So passionate I could burst into tears.
There’s pain in wanting someone you can never have so badly. And then I’m learning quickly that when you finally have them, nothing will ever compare to that feeling.
“God, Juniper,” he moans, our tongues tangling together, pulling closer and closer.
It’s not enough, and Crew thinks so, too, shoving the desserts between us across the table in one forceful swipe.
The crash is nothing compared to our need to cling to each other.
Tears well in my eyes, but I don’t bring attention to them.
I just want to be present in this moment with him.
With my patient’s father.
My great friend.
And the man I earnestly want.
As if the butterflies in my stomach weren’t already out of control, Crew leads his kiss to the side of my mouth, peppering kisses down my cheek.
My neck, my ear, and all the way back to the smile lines beside my eyes accept his intentional adoration.
That’s what it feels like. “I’m crazy about you, and I know I shouldn’t be. ”
“We can’t,” I mutter breathlessly.
“I know. Fuck,” he exhales, forehead falling to my shoulder. I stroke the planes of his back, equal parts appreciative and saddened that this may be the last time I get to openly touch him without reservation. Without eyes on us, knowing we won’t work. Shouldn’t work. Can’t work.
I wish my purse weren’t so far away. My anxiety feels astronomical, feeling like I’m betraying someone or something for simply being here with Crew. Or maybe it’s just my morals. I don’t know. Normally, I’d reach for my lucky butterfly and cling to it for mental stability.
Kind of like Crew does with me right now. He holds me close.
How can something so wrong feel so right?
“Tell me about the butterfly.”
“Butterfly?” I croak through nervous breaths.
“I’ve seen you. You pulled it from your scrubs before, then again in the car, and at Jack’s. It must be special to you. I can tell. Your eyes soften when you look at it.” His head lifts to mine, the passion behind our kiss slowly turning into emotional tension.
We’re fucking doomed.
My voice lifts slightly above a whisper.
“It was all I had. My dad took me to a garage sale when I was little, and I knew right away I needed it. I had this obsession with butterflies and dancing. Much like Addie, I’m learning.
It took a lot of begging, but he bought it for me.
This was before everything at home got so extreme.
I remember being in my room and crying one night because suddenly my toys were gone.
I was so upset that my parents would get rid of my toys but keep all of their clutter.
It still doesn’t make sense. My slightly rusted butterfly with beads missing and a broken wing was the only thing I could find that night.
The only thing valuable to me. It got me through nights where I felt alone and like an outcast in my own home. ”
There’s nothing but kindness in his eyes. “I won’t pretend to relate, but I can empathize. It makes me angry you grew up less than cared for. But if it means anything at all, you turned out pretty damn great, Juniper. I mean it. You spread those beautiful wings as far as they could reach.”
Tears rush forward, making me question what truly has me so emotional. “It means everything. Thank you for saying that.”
“This can’t happen again, huh?” He asks it like a question, but it feels like a statement. It’s written in stone, and we found a way out of it tonight.
I exhale. “I’m afraid not, Hugh.”
He chuckles. “Best kiss of my life, Lavender. No kiss will ever compare.”
I shove him playfully. “Let’s not get carried away. One glance at your Suburban, and you’ll have all the women lined up to kiss you.”
He tilts his head, appalled by my audacity. “And here I thought the ladies wanted me for the size of my thighs and di—”
“Nope!” I snap. “We’re not even going there with that one.”
“Too far?” He grins.
I nod. “Too far. Wanna clean up and take me home? I’m sleepy and have a long day tomorrow. Plus, I miss my cat.”
Crew thinks for a moment before nodding. “Sure. You finish off the rest of the desserts, and I’ll get this place back to sparkling. No work for the lady.” And he kisses my cheek before hopping off the table and getting to work.
How am I supposed to forget that?