Chapter 25
Wade adjusted the baby carrier strapped to his chest, double-checking that Bella, bundled in her pink sweater, was snug.
Her tiny hands reached for the swirling leaves, and her wide eyes sparkled.
Her delighted gurgles mixed with the lively chatter and the distant melody of a folk band on the nearby stage.
“She’s loving this.” Claire beamed beside him, radiant in a yellow sweater paired with fitted jeans. A cozy green scarf framed her face. Her light-green eyes caught his attention, and his chest tightened.
“Can’t blame her.” He refocused on Bella, who managed to grab a stray leaf. “It’s a lot to take in.”
They strolled past booths selling handmade crafts, caramel apples, and knitted scarves, the air thick with the comforting smells of cider and roasted nuts. Claire chatted with vendors, many asking why she hadn’t set up a booth for her jewelry this year.
“Just taking a break.” She gestured toward him. “Our hands are tied with the baby for now.”
He’d have to ensure she got back to doing what she loved—designing jewelry—even with Bella in their lives.
As they walked, families stopped to greet Claire.
They exchanged smiles and snippets of local gossip in the crisp autumn air.
He nodded along, recognizing familiar faces from his childhood.
But he couldn’t miss the lingering stares.
Some people knew him as Kyle and Regina’s son.
Others recognized him from his films and beamed as they chatted.
“Wade! Claire!” Bryce navigated the crowd with his wife and their two kids. “Couldn’t miss the Fall Fest, huh?”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Wade shook Bryce’s hand. Bella let out a squeal, prompting a laugh from Bryce’s wife, Liberty.
“She’s so cute.” Liberty cooed, her dimples sinking into her cheeks. “First Fall Fest.”
“First everything,” Wade boasted. He held onto Bella’s bottom as he lowered himself to tousle his friends’ little ones’ hair.
Claire reappeared and embraced Liberty.
“How’s Fern working out?” Liberty, the owner of Hearts at Hand, asked.
“Wade would’ve let you know by now if anything went wrong,” Claire reassured her.
They strolled on together, Liberty and Claire chatting while Wade caught up with Bryce. At the pumpkin-painting booth, Claire grabbed Wade’s arm. “We have to do this—Bella’s first masterpiece!”
He laughed. “All right, Picasso.”
Orange, green, and even white pumpkins of all shapes and sizes covered the long table, along with pots of nontoxic paint and brushes. Liberty and Claire dug through the pile, laughing as they sought the perfect pumpkins.
Claire held up a small, round one to Bella. “What do you think, sweetheart?”
Bella stretched out her little hands and opened her mouth, eliciting his laughter. “Looks perfect. For painting, not eating.” He unstrapped her from the carrier. “All right, little artist. Let’s get to work.”
Sitting on a bench, he settled Bella in his lap. She snatched a paintbrush, and Claire centered her phone and snapped a photo. “Just so you know, this is real paint.”
“Good thing my wife keeps a stash of my old shirts for moments like this.” Wade shot back. This woman—his wife in name only—was starting to fill spaces inside him he hadn’t realized were empty.
He loved talking to her, opening up to her, and revisiting memories—memories he hadn’t thought included her, but they clearly had.
Maybe it was because, with her, there was no pretense.
Life with her was simple—so different from his polished, high-profile world.
How had he kept her at arm’s length all these years?
How had he resisted the urge to pull her into his life and make her his?
Because you weren’t looking for permanence, remember?
The thought stung more now than ever.
Playful and radiant, Claire blew him a kiss with a teasing smile.
He nodded, his heart practically melting—until something thudded. Bella swung the brush, clutching it like a prize. He dragged the paint tray from the center and lifted her hand to dip the brush into the green paint.
“How’s married life treating you?” Bryce asked beside him as he dipped his own daughter’s hand in blue paint.
“Pretty great, actually.” Wade guided Bella to paint the pumpkin. “I’m embracing it.”
Claire stood in front of the pumpkin stack, now chatting with Irina, her animated gestures making him pause. She tucked loose hair behind her ear, leaning in toward her friend as if sharing an inside joke.
Just looking at her quickened his pulse.
She was a temptation wrapped in everything he’d always told himself he couldn’t have.
Since they’d started sharing a bed, resisting the urge to kiss her—or more—had become a battle.
He wanted to prove to her he could have self-control, even if every stolen glance chipped away his resolve.
“Hey, man.” Bryce’s voice intruded. “Bella seems more interested in painting your face than the pumpkin.”
Wade blinked. Bella had her paint-covered brush inches from his cheek. “Whoa! Not so fast, little lady.” He grabbed a wipe from a nearby volunteer.
“Let her use her fingers.” Bryce nodded at his own daughter smearing bright colors across her pumpkin.
Complying, Wade dipped Bella’s fingers into green paint and guided them to the pumpkin. She bubbled and babbled, smearing the paint across the surface. He couldn’t stop grinning, his heart full as she concentrated, her little tongue sneaking out and brow furrowing.
“You’re doing great, Bella.” Claire was already back. “Smile.” She captured a photo. She must’ve been watching them all along and known just when to show up.
“Hello, Wade.” Irina waggled her fingers. Petite, she carried an air of quiet strength.
He respected her for being the steady presence Claire could always count on. “Hi, Irina.”
His attention shifted to Bella, now smacking her messy hands onto the disposable table covering. He chuckled. “She’s an artist already.”
“She gets that from her aunt,” Claire boasted, her cheeks pinking.
He couldn’t look away from her. The way her gaze held his made everything else fade—the music, the chatter, even the laughter.
At that moment, they were the only two people in his world.
Something raw and primal surged within him—a fierce desire to claim her, to explore emotions he’d long kept buried.
“I see you two are still in the honeymoon phase.” Bryce’s voice cut through the haze just as Bella’s sticky fingers pressed cool against Wade’s cheek.
He blinked. He didn’t care that he now had to wipe paint off his face. It was worth it—worth the brief escape into Claire’s gaze.
“Come on, girl.” Irina looped her arm through Claire’s. “See you guys later. We’re going to grab some hot chocolate. You too, Liberty.”
The women left, but the finger-painting session would be a cherished memory. Wade paid for one of the blank canvases and guided Bella’s little fingers, smearing colorful paint across it. The messiness only added to the charm.
“Aunt Claire’s going to love this.” What would it be like to have more moments like this—maybe even a sibling for Bella?
Wait. Whoa! Did he just entertain the idea of having a child with Claire?
He shook off the thought. One step at a time. They were still navigating possible kisses that felt too natural and too tempting.
Claire plopped a cup of chocolate before him, then clapped her hands. “This is timeless.” She fumbled out her phone and snapped photos of him and Bella. “Especially with that paint on your cheek.”
He scratched at where he assumed the streak was. “Part of the charm, right?”
The festival unfolded with even more fun. The maze had Bella giggling at every twist and turn. He and Claire took turns carrying Bella as she stretched to grab at the maze walls or other kids’ colorful scarves.
Emerging from the maze, he spotted Eric and Joy.
“Mom and Dad are hoping you can make it for dinner on Sunday,” Eric said. “John too, if he wants to get out for a bit.”
“We’ll try.” Wade arched a brow at Claire, who nodded.
Skipping the apple-bobbing station—they both agreed it was too cold—they arrived at what he’d been anticipating all week.
“Now, this has to be the highlight.” He approached a massive leaf pile. Groups of children were jumping in, laughing, and shrieking.
“I’ll go first.” He handed Bella to Claire, then winked. “Gotta make sure it’s safe for Bella.”
And with two strides, he launched himself into the pile. Leaves exploded into the air as he landed, his shoes sinking into leaves. Kids cheered around him, pelting him with leaves. Other adults joined in, keeping the fun going.
After a few minutes, he gathered a smaller pile under a nearby tree and waved Claire and Bella over. He shook leaves off his shirt, then gestured grandly to his creation. “This one’s Bella-sized.”
Claire raised an eyebrow. “You’re just looking for another excuse to play.”
“Maybe.” Who wouldn’t love this? “Let’s put Bella in and see what she thinks.”
Claire crouched beside him and settled Bella into the mini pile. Bella snatched a handful of leaves and tossed them into the air, chortling. She cackled, tilted her head back, and closed her eyes to shield them from the falling leaves.
“She’s loving it!” Claire clapped, her face aglow.
He retrieved his phone from his hoodie pocket and snapped photos, but before he slid it away, he couldn’t resist capturing one of Claire as she beamed her loving maternal smile at Bella.
His heart swelled. This moment, this family—his family—evoked a love he hadn’t known he was capable of giving. He kissed Claire’s cheek. When she turned, eyes wide and lips smiling, he whispered, “Let’s be kids together. Let’s jump in the leaves.”
“Someone has to keep an eye on Bella.” She shook a finger at him. “Let’s find Irina.”
“Or Bryce or Eric.” Wade scanned the crowd.
Bella, distracted by her play, stopped. Her bright-eyed gaze locked onto Wade. She clapped her hands and blurted out, “Dada!”