13. Emmy
CHAPTER 13
EMMY
“I’m not sure I’ll be able to eat anything else after this hayride,” I tell Dawson as we bump along in the hay wagon at Maple Fest. I honestly forgot how fun this fall festival was—pumpkin bowling, jack-o’-lantern carving, bobbing for apples, and a slightly corny haunted house. I’ve also consumed too much junk food, and now I feel like a tennis ball in the dryer, pummeled by every pothole.
“Worse than the motorcycle?” he asks with a smile.
“This wagon might be safer, but I think my butt is numb.”
“Just wait until we ride horses next,” he teases.
“What horses?” The wagon hits another pothole, and I nearly bounce into Dawson’s lap, my skin tingling under my jeans.
“I was kidding about the horses. But you can crash into me any day,” he says with a smile that makes my heart leap. “I’m used to it on the rink.”
I brush some straw off my pants and tell myself he’s just flirting. No big deal, right?
A fall fling with Dawson would be fun, as long as I don’t fall for him too hard. Fall has always been my favorite season, and it’s especially good for dating. Summer is too hot to cuddle. Winter is too full of expectations, especially with Christmas presents and family parties and the pressure to bring a date. Spring has good potential for dating if it doesn’t rain, and it rains a lot in the Pacific Northwest.
But fall is the perfect time for a low-commitment but hugely rewarding dating relationship. There are so many opportunities, like holding hands on crisp walks and cuddling next to the campfire. In my opinion, it’s the best season to date. Until now, there wasn’t anyone I’d consider dating.
The wagon bucks again and my head bounces off the wagon wall.
“Ow.” I rub my scalp. “They should make you sign a safety waiver before boarding.”
“Now you know the real reason why people didn’t survive the trip out west,” he says. “Lean on me.” He lifts his arm and puts it around my shoulders.
“How will that help?” I ask, even though I don’t resist his offer.
“If I put my arm around you, your head isn’t hitting something every bump. Bonus points if you end up in my lap.”
I look around and see a few people staring at Dawson’s arm around me. When we drive by the autograph table, Scotty nudges Noah and points at us. Pretty soon, all the players take notice and erupt into obnoxious whistling and catcalling. Maybe they’re just giving Dawson a hard time because he already finished his autograph shift earlier so we could spend time together at the festival. But the whistling doesn’t bother Dawson. If anything, he’s leaning into me even more, putting on quite the show as my date.
“I think you’re just using this ride as an excuse to put your arm around me,” I say, lifting an eyebrow.
“Maybe,” he says with a smirk, and my heart tumbles. “Is that wrong?”
“You have a reputation with women, so it fits.”
For a second, his smile falls. “It wasn’t like that with the others.”
“Riiiiiight,” I say, nodding. If we’re going to date, I want him to be honest with me.
“It’s true. I never considered dating any of those other women,” he says with a slightly offended look. “I didn’t touch them like this either.”
I lift an eyebrow. “Every picture I’ve seen of you, they’re hanging off your arm. And earlier today, I saw all the women crowding the autograph table like you were their celebrity crush.” Maybe my comment is a little too honest, but it’s true. Dawson seems to have a new flavor-of-the-month in every photo. I’m not stupid. He’s like a plate of raw steak for a pack of hungry cougars.
“The line of women was Dan’s fault,” he says. “They were waiting to meet the hometown hero, until he saw Keira and made a beeline for her.”
“Yeah, well, Dan still holds a flame for her. She was the one who got away.”
Dawson stares at me, like this is the first time it occurred to him that Dan might have a thing for his high school sweetheart. “Maybe he likes hanging out with her, just like I enjoy being with you.”
I shrug. “I’m okay with being your backup date.” As long as I don’t get too attached.
He frowns at me. “You’re not a backup date?—”
Just then, the wagon jerks over another pothole, and my leg bumps his. A zing of energy races down my spine. Touching Dawson makes me feel things I shouldn’t, but I can’t seem to help myself, especially when I’m alone with him. He’s as addictive as those pumpkin cinnamon rolls from the bakery. You’re never satisfied with just one bite.
I’ve never noticed it before, but there’s something strange going on in Maple Falls. It’s always been a quaint idyllic town where couples come for dates or weekend getaways. But everywhere around me, people seem to be coupling up.
Is there something in the water? It’s almost like someone is behind all this—turning Maple Falls into the place to fall in love. Whatever it is, I refuse to get sucked into the whole quaint, small-town magic.
“What were you saying?” I ask, very much distracted by Dawson’s hand, which is now rubbing my shoulder. He smells like fall today, a fresh woodsy scent and that yummy body wash. When I asked him what it was, he said it was called “mountain stream scent.” Right now, I’d like to bathe in that stream, because I can’t seem to get enough of it. He even wore flannel again, like he’s trying to audition for the lead in a Hallmark movie.
As we reach the end of the ride, he doesn’t move his arm. It’s locked around me, like he doesn’t want it to end.
“Dawson, it’s fine. I’m fulfilling my end of the dating pact. Let’s go on to something else,” I say, moving away from him.
He waits a beat. “You don’t want to do round two of the hayride?”
I turn to face him. “Considering I can’t feel my butt right now, no. And I’m pretty sure I’ve got straw down my pants.”
His eyes zip down my body as he gives me a flirty smirk. “Looks good to me.”
I throw a handful of straw at him. “You haven’t changed, Dawson Hayes.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He brushes the straw off his shirt.
“You’ve always been a tease.”
For a moment, he grows serious. “What do you prefer, then? Someone who’s boring like Stewart?”
“No, I mean it’s your schtick. You love to flirt because you know women like that sort of thing. It’s a game for you.”
“Not with you, it isn’t,” he says, his eyes pinned on me. “I would never play games with you.”
My heart stutters. I shake my head, then turn to go.
He tosses some straw at me, and I’m too slow to dodge it. The straw rains off my head. “Hey! What was that for?”
“For making assumptions about me.” Then he climbs out of the wagon before me.
“Don’t tell me there’s not a grain of truth in them,” I argue, picking straw out of my hair. It’s easier to accept that than to think Dawson sees me as special.
He studies me for a second. “Emmy, maybe I do it because I like to make you smile. Ever think of that?”
My breath catches.
Dawson likes to make me smile?
I stare down at him from the wagon, and that’s when I notice I’m the only one left. Everyone else is gone.
He puts out two hands for me. “Come on, they’re waiting to load the next group.”
“You want me to jump into your arms? Is that so you can drop me?” I ask, only half-joking. I get the feeling I’ve offended Dawson with the comments I’ve made about him being a notorious flirt. But I’m not brave enough to ask him how he feels about me.
Hockey players don’t settle down. Not with one team or one woman.
He tilts his head and gives me a look. “I would never drop you, Emmy. Just step into my arms.”
That’s the thing about Dawson—he’s still a gentleman, even when I’m making unfair assumptions about him.
If he’s going to treat me like his date, why shouldn’t I enjoy myself for once? Fall is my favorite season. And Dawson is my favorite person, even though he has a reputation with women.
I’m still not brave enough to ask him why he likes to make me smile or cares enough to track me down during parties and practices. Gold Dog is right. Why shouldn’t I take a chance?
“Are you going to make me wait all day?” he asks. “Or don’t you trust me?”
I step forward and let him wrap his hands around my waist. He lowers me down, sliding my body across his, and looks at me with those dark eyes, the copper flecks even brighter tonight.
Everything in me flames.
Maybe I could let Dawson be my fall fling as long as I realize it’s only for a short time. One season.
It’s like a trust fall. I can’t think about what happens next.
I just have to take the leap.