Chapter 19
HARDY
She would like this shirt.
Actually, she’d probably love it.
A crab posing in a beret with a paintbrush and the name Leonardo da Pinci under him.
She’d think it was funny, clever, and stupid all at the same time.
She’d love this store. I could see her strolling down the boardwalk-style sidewalk of Almond Bay, a small coastal town in Northern California, admiring the Victorian buildings, pastel colors, and adorable flower boxes. That’s what she would call them, adorable.
I could see her spotting the souvenir shop and with a humorous glint in her eye asking me if I wanted to go in. I, of course, am always up for an adventure with her and would jump on the opportunity.
We’d walk into The Almond Outpost and the first thing she would say is how she likes the wide plank floors. I’d agree with her. Then she’d ooh and ahh over the shirt selection up front, the generic Almond Bay shirts, but then she’d gasp when we head toward the back, because she’d see the outpouring of bad puns stitched and inked onto various items of clothing.
She’d rifle through them, holding them up to her chest, like…like this one…
A horse dressed up as Obi Wan with the slogan, May the Horse Be With you, under it. Almond Bay Equine Rescue.
Or this one, two croissants holding hands with a heart above their heads and the text, You’re the one I croissant.
I actually think she might like that one best since she’s a romantic.
Actually, I know she would like it best. She’d chuckle, but she’d also get those heart eyes she seems to get when something makes her really happy. They glisten and twinkle…
Fuck.
I drag my hand over my face. Mother of God, what is wrong with me?
I think we all know what’s wrong with me.
I’ve recently stumbled upon the realization that the girl who’s been becoming my best friend is actually the girl I should have been pursuing this entire time.
I’ve probably been pining over her and never realized it.
Maybe all those emails—all those interactions—was me slowly falling for her and not having a goddamn clue.
Moron!
If my life was a book, readers would be shaking their pages, yelling, “Wake up, idiot! She’s right under your nose.”
I probably would have still ignored all the anger from the peanut gallery because that’s how big of a moron I am.
Sighing, I thumb through T-shirt sizes and stop when I reach the larges.
She likes a large shirt.
She likes them big because she wears them with leggings or spandex shorts. I know this because we had a long conversation about it. And she also doesn’t like white shirts on her, she says it’s too stark of a contrast against her complexion. She prefers darker colors, and I think she’s right to an extent. Darker colors look nice on her and make her eye color pop, but fuck, when she wears red…
In my humble opinion, red is her color.
This shirt is red. Should I get it for her? If this was a few days ago, I probably wouldn’t have even given it a second thought. I would have purchased it for her and then surprised her at work. I would have said it was from a friend to a friend. She would have thanked me with a hug, I would have inhaled her sweet perfume and thought, wow she smells good, but never done anything about it!
Jesus Christ.
Like I said, moron.
“Can I help you with anything?” a store clerk asks as she comes up to me.
“Oh, I’m good,” I say with a wave, not really wanting to gab.
“Isn’t that a great shirt?” It seems like the store clerk has other ideas.
“Yeah. Like the pun. I also like that the croissants resemble Danny and Sandy from Grease.”
The clerk laughs. “That was my favorite part. Never saw a croissant with sideburns before.”
“Yeah, clever,” I say, the humor in my voice barely audible.
“Well, I have more sizes in the back if you are looking for something else, just give me a shout.”
“Thanks,” I say.
And then, thankfully, she walks back to her counter, leaving me alone with the shirt.
Should I get it?
Why would I?
It’s not like I’ve spoken to her in the last few days. It’s not like I’ve answered her emails or even thought about texting her back. And why, you might ask? Because I’m having a hard time processing, that’s why.
Because I’m worried that I have these strong feelings for a girl who has put me wholeheartedly in the friend zone.
Because I like her so much as a friend…and more, but worried that if I actually make the move, I’m scared she’ll say no.
I’m afraid of losing what we have.
Although, because of my negligence, what we have is slowly starting to fade anyway.
“Hardy?”
Christ, can’t a guy hem and haw over a shirt in peace?
I turn around and find Brody standing behind me.
“Brody?” I ask. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m here with Maggie—we’re visiting Hattie.” While I’m in town for business, Hattie and Maggie are best friends. Hattie is the owner of The Almond Store, one of the Rowley sisters I’m meeting with. I’ve been working with both of them on a contract to resell Hopper Almonds as well as use them for their almond extract. We’ve also been working on a possible partnership, taking their almond extract nationwide and in stores. “Hattie didn’t mention meeting up with you.”
“Maybe she likes to keep her business to herself,” I say as I set the shirt down, but of course Brody notices it.
“You’re the one I croissant?” he asks while looking up at me. “Getting a little present for Maple?”
“Not so much,” I say.
“Uh-oh, why does that sound like things haven’t worked out the way you were hoping? Was it the way you fell into her breasts when you greeted her?”Exclusive © content by N(ô)ve/l/Drama.Org.
I pinch the bridge of my nose, and I walk past him. “Not in the mood, dude.”
“Hey,” he says, pulling on my arm. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” I say. “I’m going to head back to the inn.”
“Hold on,” he replies. “I have to grab some socks because I’m an idiot and forgot to pack any. Hattie and Maggie are hanging out tonight—want to grab a burger with me? We can talk. Serious talk. No jokes.”
I look him in the eyes, a no on the tip of my tongue, but before I can change my mind, I nod.
“So,we’ve talked about sports, the weather, and cherry almond cookies,” Brody says as he picks up a fry from his plate. “We’ve also touched upon a new pair of shoes you’re considering purchasing as well as what cologne I’m wearing. Now that we’ve gotten all pleasantries out of the way, care to tell me what’s going on with you and Maple? Or do you want to discuss the difference between one button undone on a dress shirt or two?”
“Fascinating topic,” I say. “Would love to dive deep into that. You know, I’ve always thought two was kind of douchey but—”
“Hardy,” Brody says in a stern tone, which is shocking given this guy is barely ever serious.
I sigh and wipe my mouth with my napkin before putting it on the table.
“Whatever I say, you can tell Maggie, but she can’t tell Everly, okay? I mean that, man. I can’t have this getting to her.”
“Everly?” he asks. “Did something happen with Everly?”
“Dude, just promise me.”
He nods. “Okay, yeah, I promise, it won’t get back to her.”
“And I can trust you, right? The appendix has been removed, so we shouldn’t have any more embarrassing truth moments from you, right? You’re going to be able to hold back?”
“Since I’ve had the appendix removed, I’ve actually been more polished, reserved. I think the appendix was the thing that was causing mayhem in my life.”
I eye him suspiciously because I don’t think anyone would believe that.
“You can trust me, dude,” he reassures me, and call me crazy, but from the serious tone in his voice, I think I believe him.
So, I go for it.
“Maple turned me down. Wasn’t interested in starting things up again. I don’t want to get into detail about the reasons, but what it comes down to is that our connection wasn’t as strong as I assumed it was back in college.”
“That sucks. I’m sorry, man.”
I press my lips together and stare at the fry scraps on my plate. “She pointed something out to me, though, that I’m still trying to process.”
“Is this about Everly?” he asks.
I slowly nod. “Yeah, Maple brought it to my attention that I have feelings for Everly.” Brody’s eyes widen but I continue, “And the more she talked about it, the more I realized that she was absolutely right.”
“Holy shit,” he says. “That’s a bit of a twist.”
“Yeah, tell me about it.” I sigh. “I mean, fuck, man. Maple is so goddamn right. All I can think about is Everly. I look forward to seeing her, hearing from her, talking to her. Those shirts I was looking at in the store—I was thinking about which one she would fucking like, what size and color she would prefer. I could picture her in the croissant shirt, I could see her bright smile, loving it so much. I feel like I know this woman, down to my very core, and that freaks me the fuck out.”
“Why does that freak you out?” he asks. “That should only spur you on to want so much more with her. It sounds like you might have found your person, so I would lean into that. That’s what I did with Maggie.”
“You and Maggie are different,” I say.
“How so?” he asks. “I was crushing on her when I first met her but never made a move because she’s my best friend’s sister. I had a momentary lapse in judgment when I made out with her at her brother’s wedding but put an end to it. I didn’t think I had a chance to be with her, but when we broke that barrier in Bora Bora, everything changed, and I fell hard. I was all in. How is this different?”
“You weren’t friends before. You hated each other.”
“Ehh, there’s a very thin line between love and hate,” he says. “But I get what you’re saying—you’re afraid to lose her as a friend.”
“Exactly, it feels so weird to say, because it’s been such a short time since we’ve been hanging out and talking, but I really rely on her. She’s my go-to person right now. And if I make a move, I’m going to lose all of that.”
“True,” he says. “But, she might feel the same way and you might have a whole lot to gain.”
“At what risk, though?”
He shrugs. “That’s something you’re going to have to figure out on your own.”
“How did it go?”Hudson asks as he takes a seat at the conference table across from me.
“Good,” I answer as I adjust my suit jacket. I fucking hate these things. You would think since we now own our own company that we could relax on the dress code, but Hudson likes to maintain a sense of professionalism. I want to know who came up with the rules that wearing a suit screams professionalism. Shouldn’t it be about how you carry yourself and not about what you wear?
“Care to elaborate?” he asks as he leans back in his chair and crosses one leg over the other. “Did you set up the account with Hattie and Aubree?”
I nod. “I did, and we spoke about the possibility of expanding their almond extract into a nationwide brand. They’re on board with the idea, which means we need to start looking into cost of production. I told them we want to keep the recipe and leave the process to them, that we just want to back them and also, partner with them so they use our almonds.”
“That’s great,” Hudson says with a smile.
“What’s the smile for?” I ask.
“Just interesting that we’ve branched off from our dad and now we have our hands in all sorts of businesses. Almond extract wasn’t on my list, but I can see the potential, especially given the numbers they turned in. With some financial backing, they can really take off, more than they already have.”
“Yeah, it should be great,” I say, my voice flat. And, of course, Hudson notices the lack of enthusiasm.
“What’s going on with you? I thought you’d be excited about this. You love your almonds.”
“I do,” I say. “Just…some personal things going on.”
“Does this have to do with Dad?” he asks. “Because we still haven’t heard anything. Don’t let him intimidate you with the frivolous threat of a lawsuit. He has nothing on us, and you bought the almond branch outright from him. He had no problem letting it go. And now that we’re capitalizing on it, that doesn’t mean we need to be worried.”
I get the feeling he wouldn’t be overly pleased about my feelings for Everly, and there is no way in hell I want to talk to him about them until I actually figure out what I plan on doing.
Therefore, I go with his line of thought and leave it at that. “Yeah, his loss, right?”
“His loss,” Hudson reiterates. “Now, I have to talk to you about your schedule. I know being in the office isn’t your favorite thing, but I need you here more. We’re taking on more projects and it’s more streamlined if you’re here to go over them. I’m starting to get overwhelmed, and you know the farm is doing fine on its own. They don’t need you there once a week.”
I grit my teeth because this is the last thing I wanted to hear right now. Sure, I know I need to be in the office more. I need to be there for Hudson, and I don’t mind these new projects—they’re invigorating, especially when you get to see them grow into what you planned—but fuck, the farm is my safe place.
Where I like to go to think.
Hang out.
Just breathe.
I stopped by on the way home from Almond Bay and walked through the almond trees, thinking about Everly and how much I’d like to show her the farm. How fun it would be to walk her through the ins and outs of how we took a few acres and made it into so much more. Something that’s so much bigger now. I want her to be proud of me, as odd as that sounds.
“From the disgruntled look on your face, I can see that you don’t agree.”
“It’s not that I don’t agree, it’s that I just like it better there.”
“I understand,” he says. “Truly, I get it. You were never made for the office, but I need you here now. I’m not saying you’re going to be here forever, but I need you in the city while we still have things processing and we’re still growing. I need you talking in person to the people we’re hiring. Once we find the proper flow, then you can start working remotely, but for now, I’d prefer you only go to the farm once every two weeks, maybe even three.”
“Christ,” I mutter as I pinch my brow.
“Hardy—”
“I know,” I say as I look my brother in the eye. “I get it. And I don’t want you irritated with me. I’ll be here.”
“I don’t want you irritated with me either,” he says. “I know what your passion is, Hardy. I know it was hard for you to find, but once you found it, you created something that has provided a huge income stream to our company. The almonds are the reason why we’re able to invest in other things. I want to get you back to them, but it’s just going to take time.”
“I know,” I say softly, wishing he wasn’t making so much sense.