Chapter 7
CHAPTER 7
Erica
I ’ve ignored all Ryan’s calls and texts, and I think he finally got the hint.
He sent several the first day and left a voicemail. Then one text or call a day for the next few days. Then once a week.
The last was a voicemail wishing me Merry Christmas.
It’s the day after Christmas, and all I want is to forget he exists.
I’m still in my pajamas, staring at the ceiling fan, wishing it could magically blow away all my Ryan thoughts.
Someone knocks on my front door, and I lean up on my elbows. It’s most likely Paul wanting to share some nonsense. I lie back down.
There’s another knock and a woman’s muffled voice. “Open up, Erica. I know you’re in there.”
I throw back the covers and groan as my feet hit the floor. According to my bedside clock, I should be working and eating lunch right now. Instead, I’ve moped around, using the holidays as an excuse to wallow in self-pity.
I swing open the door to Brooke. “What?”
“Merry day after Christmas to you too, Scrooge.” She snarls.
I move aside for her to come in, and close the door.
“Nice PJs.”
I frown. They’re the same Rudolph pajamas Grandma bought every female in the family.
“What’s up?” I ask, plopping down in my favorite chair.
Brooke sits on the couch across from me and smiles. She always smiles, but this time it has some meaning behind it. I narrow my eyes in anticipation.
“Have you checked your social media or website today?”
I laugh sarcastically. “I’ve done nothing but stare at the ceiling until you knocked.”
“That explains your hair, then.”
I smooth my hand over my hair and frown at her. She’s the closest thing I have to a sister, and we often treat each other as such.
“You need to check some of the stuff for the orchard. L.R. Walter, or Ryan, wrote a blog about Apple Cart that’s getting a lot of attention.”
I roll my eyes. “I know. It’s the story of Willow’s parents and the award-winning cookie crack. We’ve all read it.”
“No.” Brooke shakes her head. “The story he posted today.” She pulls her phone from her jeans pocket, types something in, then hands it to me.
I settle back in my chair and read the most vulnerable post I’ve ever found online. And that’s saying a lot considering I follow many former contestants from reality dating shows.
Ryan starts by sharing why he visits places under his birth name and not his pen name. He then describes finding my blog and being intrigued by Apple Cart County. When a local pharmacist’s wife invited him to guest judge the bake-off, he had to come.
Then, he talks about me . . .
I had fallen in love with the stories of Apple Cart County Apple Orchard months before my visit. What I didn’t expect was to fall in love with their author.
I almost drop the phone. Did he just drop the L-bomb? About me? I lift my eyes to Brooke, who’s wearing an extra-cheesy grin.
“Did you read it?”
I lift a finger to her and drop my eyes to the phone.
Ryan goes on to say how he never believed in instant love or attraction until me. He writes that his biggest regret was getting on the plane without explaining to me why he never revealed his true identity and why from now on, he plans to be up-front when he visits new locations.
He ends with saying he doesn’t regret that his time spent with me focused on his personal side and nothing to do with Spoon of the South . Oh, and he says he totally regrets not trying to kiss me.
I cover my mouth, shocked that he would publish such intimate thoughts on the internet—about me!
I slowly hold the phone toward Brooke and lift my gaze to her. She’s still grinning stupidly.
“What do you think?”
“Well, he didn’t say my name.”
Brooke slaps the cushion beside her, causing me to jolt to attention.
“Seriously, Erica? Everyone knows you write the orchard blog. Did he really have to say your name?”
I slump down in my chair. “I knew the guy like less than a week.”
“So?”
“So? You and Nate grew up together.”
“Why should that matter? You’re older and you’ve had experience to know what you want and don’t want in a guy.”
I waver my head. “But don’t you think it’s weird to say you love someone after a week?”
“Not if you know.” Brooke leans closer to me. “Look, I’m meant to marry my high school boyfriend and live in Apple Cart. That doesn’t mean you are. We’re all different.”
“I have been itching to go other places.”
“I know.”
“You do?” My jaw drops.
“We all do.” Brooke laughs. “As much as your parents and everyone would enjoy you staying in town, it’s pretty obvious you’re itching for more.”
I sigh. “I don’t mean to show that.”
She reaches out and takes my hand. “It’s okay. Never apologize for having your own dreams. That’s what I admire about you. You’re braver than most of us. You had the courage to call off an engagement when it wasn’t right, and I believe you should go see Ryan if you think that’s right.”
I chew on my bottom lip as I mull over what she suggested.
“You really think I should go see him?”
“If you have feelings for him, yes. Because we all know he has feelings for you.” She lifts the phone and wiggles her eyebrows.
Ryan
“ R yan, someone’s here to see you.”
I raise my head to Suni, our Spoon of the South receptionist. With the coy grin she’s wearing, I’m a little apprehensive to meet with the person.
“They came all the way from Apple Cart County.” Suni’s lips curve into a smile that covers her entire face.
“It’s not Paul, is it?”
Paul found my contact info and has asked me several times if he can freelance for me as a food taster. He’s emailed, called, texted, commented on blogs, and filled out forms on the website contact. All that’s left for him to do is send a carrier pigeon . . .
Or personally visit.
I stand and sigh. Might as well get this over with.
Before I can circle my desk, she opens the door wider and Erica steps inside. My body tingles like all my limbs fell asleep at once. It’s hard to stand, so I grip the corner of my desk to steady myself.
Is this some kind of mirage? If so, I never want to wake.
“I’ll leave you two alone.” Suni slides behind Erica and closes the door.
I stand within ten feet of her. She smiles at me, and it’s the medicine I need to heal my joints. I stand straighter and take a step toward her.
“What are—are you really here?” My voice is goofy and excited, but I don’t care.
She nods and closes the space between us. I study her brown eyes, rosy cheeks, pink lips, pearly teeth. It’s like my dream came true.
“I read the blog.” She blushes, making her cheeks even more kissable. “Did you really mean all of that?”
I nod.
“Even the love part?”
I nod again, my heart pounding. This is the scary part. I reach for her hands and cup them in mine.
“You don’t have to feel the same way, but I had to get that off my chest. I’ve never connected with anyone like I did you, and you’re all I’ve thought about since I left—”
Erica leans forward and presses her lips to mine. If that’s her way of shutting me up, it worked perfectly.
She pulls back and tucks her lips together. My own lips pulse from the heat of hers.
“Sorry. You were saying?”
I laugh. “I don’t expect you to feel the same way.”
“But I do.” She squeezes my hands. “I know we just met, but we shared so much, and I feel like I’ve known you my whole life.”
I smile. “That’s exactly how I feel.”
She sighs. “I don’t like talking about my ex or my career aspirations with anyone, but you put me at ease, as if there’s no judgment.”
“And I never talk about the pumpkin patch or my love for small towns with anyone.” I release her hands and wrap my arms around her back, pulling her closer. “I can’t lose you. I want to date you, even if we’re long distance.”
Her eyes meet mine, and her mouth curves slightly. “Actually, I’ve thought about moving. Nashville seems like a fun place to live.”
“Really?”
She nods. “I talked with my family and explained how I want to start my own marketing business. The orchard will be a big client, but not my only client.”
“I could use some marketing help myself.”
“Could you?” Her eyes twinkle playfully.
“Yeah, you think you could help sell me?”
She laughs. “I don’t know. I may need to do some extensive research on what you have to offer.”
I smile and pull her toward me for a kiss. Not a quick, excited-to-see-you kiss, but the kind of kiss that I hope communicates how much I’ve missed her and how much she means to me.
It’s a kiss I never want to end. And it may never have ended, if Erica didn’t break it.
I lean back just enough to see her smiling. “What?”
She giggles. “I will need more info on your business, but that’s plenty of research to persuade me to look into Nashville apartments.”
“Is that so?” I wrap my arms tighter around her. “I’d be happy to be your guide for all things Nashville, all things Spoon of the South .” I pause and smile down at her. “And all things Ryan Lewis.”
“Best offer ever.”
I raise one hand and brush a piece of hair behind her ear, then rest my hand behind her head. “The only thing I’m interested in researching is you.”
Then I kiss her again, with anticipation of doing it many more times for the rest of our lives.