Page 8 of Pretty Pink Ribbons (A Touch of Fate 2)

So here I am, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, itching to do something, and Mia is so spent that she can barely keep her eyes open. “Mia, go to bed. You’re exhausted and you need some extra sleep.” She moans, lifting her hand as though it takes every ounce of strength she has.

She looks at her watch. “But it’s only seven.”

“Who cares what time it is? Go to bed and get some rest. I’ll wake you up in the morning and we’ll go out for biscuits and gravy.” I’m certain the promise of biscuits and gravy for breakfast will do it. Mia is a biscuit and gravy addict, and how in the hell she is able to eat as much of it as she does and still keep her movie star figure is beyond me.

“Deal.” She pushes up from the couch and stumbles down the hall to my room. That’s the only downfall to these shotgun houses . . . they’re small. Mia offered to sleep on the couch while she’s here, but I was having none of it. I offered to share my bed and we’ve spent the past few nights cuddled up next to each other.

Sliding from the couch, I walk out the front door and take a seat on the porch. My eyes drift to the blanket of stars in the sky and I stare at them in wonder. My mom used to tell me that I could wish on any star any time I wanted, but if I ever saw a shooting star I could make two wishes. I couldn’t begin to tell you how many wishes I’ve made on these stars over the years. Some of them have come true, others not so much. But it’s still fun to believe.

I search for the North Star, and out of nowhere a shooting star darts across the sky. I squeeze my eyes shut. I don’t even have to think about what my two wishes will be. There are only two things I want in life, and as fun as it is to close my eyes and hope, I know that it will take more than a little bit of effort on my part to help make these wishes come true.

Standing up, I dust off my butt. I hustle inside and leave a quick note for Mia that I’ll be right back. Grabbing my keys and purse, I head back out, double-checking that the door is locked. “I was wondering how long it would take you.” Benny’s deep voice startles me and I spin around, my purse clutched tight against my chest.

; “You scared the heck out of me.” He chuckles, stepping down from his porch, hands buried in his pockets.

“I saw you out here a minute ago. You always did like looking at the stars.” It shouldn’t surprise me that he remembers. “How many wishes did you make?”

I look down, embarrassed. “Two,” I whisper. The grass crunches under the weight of Benny’s shoes, and I watch as his black boots stop in front of me. His warm hand cups my chin and he lifts my face.

“We all make wishes, Laney. We all hope and dream and pray, so don’t be ashamed.” I nod. Benny has been through so much in his life, much more than I’ve been through, and I can’t even imagine how many times he’s probably wished and dreamt and prayed. “The key is to wish for things that aren’t unattainable.” My eyes burn and I swallow hard. “I don’t know what you wished for, Laney, but I hope they come true.” He steps back and turns toward my house. “Go. You’ve waited two days, and frankly I’m surprised you were able to wait that long.” I smile. He knows me well, and therefore he knows exactly where I’m going. “I’ll be here in case Rapunzel wakes up.”

“Rapunzel?” I ask, confused.

Benny laughs. “What can I say? It’s fun to piss her off.” He shrugs his shoulder and I shake my head in mock admonishment. Then he walks me to my car, opens my door and I slide into the seat. “Just be careful, okay?”

“Careful is my middle name.” I flash him my brightest smile. He shuts my door and taps the hood of my car twice before he disappears into the night.

It’s not a far drive, maybe two or three miles, but the closer I get to Flame, the harder my heart slams inside my chest. My palms are sweaty and butterflies have taken flight in my stomach, and I’m grateful that I forgot to eat supper. The parking lot is crowded, so I pull along the side of the restaurant, knowing from my time working here that there’s a small alleyway leading to the back where no one ever parks. It’s mostly a place where the bartenders would come to smoke.

I exit the car and slowly wander around the front of the building. My hand glides along the warm brick. This place was like a second home to me, and not just because of the boy who worked here. It was an escape, a sanctuary of sorts. I looked forward to working because if I was here, then it meant I wasn’t at home. Plus, when I was here, I was eating real food, not just soup or whatever else I was able to scrounge from our bare fridge.

I stumble but quickly recover before what would have been a nasty face plant into the ground. I look down at the offending culprit and notice for the first time a walkway where there never used to be a walkway. My eyes follow the path until it ends at a beautiful building that is now attached to Flame. In large blue script, the word ‘Blue’ is written above the front entrance.

Following the path, I walk toward Blue, my eyes taking in everything I see. The front of the building is made entirely of glass. Of course, I can’t see in because the windows are heavily tinted, but the architecture is absolutely breathtaking. Dan Beckford, Levi’s father, owns Flame, and I can’t help but wonder when he built Blue. Of all the times we’ve spoken over the years, he’s never mentioned it. Honestly, I can’t say I’m surprised because there is something else—or I guess I should say someone else—that he never mentions. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve tried . . . several times, in fact. But the old man just won’t budge. Then again, why would he? His son gave me an ultimatum, and I didn’t choose him.

A loud thud catches my attention and I whip around, wishing I had carried my Mace with me. Not that this is a bad neighborhood—because it isn’t. Faint shouting is coming from around the building and I jog across the lot, back toward my car. The closer I get, the louder the shouts become.

“You’re a prick!” I round the corner, and in the blink of an eye I’m being plowed over by an angry woman. I feel something sharp stab into the palm of my hand as my body slams backward on the concrete. I wince, but somehow manage to keep my eyes locked on the beautiful woman as she trips over me. She’s able to catch her balance before mumbling a clipped “sorry.” Her heels click loudly against the asphalt and I stare at her in awe, wishing for nothing more than to be able to walk that steady in a pair of heels that tall. “Tell Dan to call me when he grows a brain and fires your sorry ass,” she throws over her shoulder.

My gaze snaps to the unfortunate soul who is on the receiving end of her heated words. When my eyes land on Levi, my mouth falls open. I knew there was a tiny chance I might see him tonight, though nothing could have prepared me for it. Levi was always a good-looking young man, but I don’t need more than the light of the moon to see just how generous time has been to him.

His thick frame walks right on past me without a second glance and I welcome the moment of reprieve. Because this is it. This is the moment that I’ve thought about over and over and over again for the past eight years. And as I watch him stop, hands poised against his hips as he goes head-to-head with an irate woman, every speech I had ever concocted falls to the wayside.

Levi is dressed to the nines in a dark purple button-up shirt that is tucked neatly into a pair of black fitted slacks. His sleeves are bunched up around his elbows, and when his hands flex on his hips, I get the most magnificent view of his chiseled forearms. The yelling continues, but honestly, I couldn’t tell you a darn word that is being said because I can’t seem to tear my eyes off this stunning man. His feet are spread slightly, planted firmly on the ground, and the material of his pants stretches tight against his butt and thighs. Sweet baby Jesus, what I wouldn’t give to be wrapped around him like that.

You could be, but you blew it.

I close my eyes, remembering what it felt like to be surrounded by Levi. It was nothing short of perfect. His touch alone had the ability to calm me in ways that nothing, or no one else, ever could. When I was with him, I felt safe and loved, and at that time in my life those were two things I didn’t feel very often. I didn’t need him to say the words, because every time he looked at me, I could see it in his eyes. I could feel it in his touch. He loved me. I know he did.

Walking away from Levi isn’t my biggest regret . . . although it’s a close second. God knows I would give up just about anything to be able to turn back time and make that decision all over again. My biggest regret is that I walked away without telling him how I felt—without telling him how much he meant to me.

A thick lump forms in my throat as my mind replays that night. I love you. I can still hear the excitement in his voice as he professed his love for me for the first—and only—time. If I could turn the clock back, I’d throw myself at him, tell him he’s the most important person in my life and I’d never let him go. But I can’t. Because while he was confessing his love, I was ripping his heart out . . . and that’s something I’ll never be able to forgive myself for.

Somewhere in the back of mind, I register the silence that has enveloped me. I listen for the angry voices but come up empty. I peel my eyes open to find a scowling Levi staring down at me. His hands are hanging loosely at his sides and his dark blue eyes are swirling with a thousand different emotions as they search my face.

“Laney.” My name is but a whisper, but the sound of it on his lips sends shivers up my spine.