It's About Time (Blossom Peak #4)(14)

Nope. Nothing. Not even a fucking twitch.

Groaning, I toss my phone onto my desk and pinch the bridge of my nose. “No. It wasn’t real. It didn’t fucking happen,” I mutter to myself, but even I know I’m lying.

The other night during yoga at Hart Winery, my dick proved that he is in fact, not broken. But part of me thinks that he still might be because the woman that made me hard again is the last woman on the face of the planet that should have—Dilynne Clark.

The only other time I’ve faced this dilemma was back in high school, but I chalked that up as a fluke because back then, I could get a boner from a light breeze. The frightening thing is, Dilynne might have been responsible for a few of those boners back in the day too, but the hell if I ever told anyone that.

It was a harmless crush, something I never planned on doing anything about anyway, and then Dilynne started hating my guts, so it made it easier to shove aside.

But now? After being left by my fiancée and trying to convince Dilynne to stop fucking checking on me since Tori left? There’s got to be something wrong with the way my body has been reacting to her.

We still fucking fight. Hell, at yoga we went back and forth after Rhonan realized that she and Laney were trying to set up his neighbor that he has the hots for with some other guy. She makes my fucking blood boil on the daily, and yet, she still hasn’t stopped extending her friendship to me, even though I’ve told her repeatedly not to .

Stubborn and confusing fucking woman.

Picking up my phone again, I debate researching erectile dysfunction, but luckily for me, my paralegal, Colby, interrupts me before I stoop that low.

“Elliot?”

“Yeah?”

“There’s a delivery for you,” she says, walking into my office with a bag from Bites & Bliss Bakery. She sets the bag on my desk and then takes a step back. “Smells good.”

Inwardly, I curse Dilynne’s name again, as if I haven’t already been doing that for the past nine months. “Thanks, Colby.”

“No problem. Let me know if you need anything else.”

I wait for her to leave before opening the bag and pulling out the box. Popping the lid, it takes me a second to absorb the cookies in front of me, and when I do, I shake my head as silent laughter fills my chest. Several cookies shaped like piles of shit line the bottom of the box, with writing on them: If you’re going to act like a turd, go lie in the yard.

Fucking Dilynne.

Only she could insult me and I take it as this is her way of showing that she cares.

What I still can’t figure out is why.

***

One Week Later

“Anything?” Rhonan’s voice is hopeful as he glances over at me.

Sighing, I drag a hand down my face in defeat. “Nothing.”

“Not even a twitch?”

“ Nope.”

“Fuck.”

“Our next contestant is ready! Can we give her some encouragement, folks?” The crowd cheers in response to the DJ’s announcement.

Rhonan and I turn back to the mechanical bull—and freeze.

“Is that…”

“Fuck my life,” I grumble as my worst nightmare comes to life right before my eyes.

This was supposed to be a night out to prove to myself that I am not attracted to Dilynne Clark. In fact, I needed some other woman during the bull riding contest to validate that the way my dick perks up when she’s around is a fluke, just like I’m praying that it is.

We’ve been here for almost an hour at this point and…nothing. Hundreds of gorgeous women are prancing about in skimpy tops, cutoff shorts, and cowboy boots—the fantasy of a lot of red-blooded males.

Sadly, the only thing I’ve felt below the belt is the urge to fucking pee because I’m already on my third beer. Thank God Rhonan is driving because now I’m definitely going to need something stronger.

“Let’s do this, bitches!” Dilynne, a.k.a. Henley’s younger sister and my nemesis, screams over the chaos just as the mechanical bull lurches to life. “Yee-fucking-haw!”

“What are the chances?” Rhonan asks, oblivious to my internal turmoil.

“Yup. It’s official. Someone upstairs fucking hates me,” I mutter, but I can’t move from my seat because my eyes are locked on Dilynne as she rolls her hips with the bull. I can feel Rhonan glance over at me, but my jaw remains locked tight and my eyes narrowed, and for the life of me, I can’t understand why I’m still sitting here.

Dil ynne tosses her head back, shouting over the music. Rhonan takes out his phone and snaps a picture of her, probably for blackmail someday. Only a few seconds later, Dilynne gets whipped off the bull in a quick jolt. The crowd rings out with cheers and applause, but I stand and adjust my junk before slamming down the rest of my beer and walking toward the bar.

“Let’s hear it for Dilynne, everyone!” the DJ shouts, cutting through my thoughts.

Only, nothing seems to be working to drown out the reality that I’m attracted to my best friend’s little sister, and I don’t know what to fucking do about it.





Chapter 6





Dilynne



Getting Back to Normal



Ten Months After the Wedding


“Why do you look like you just swam across the ocean?”