24. Harlow
Harlow
I took a sip of my caramel cardamom chai, courtesy of Kasey, as Jude’s truck turned onto a winding dirt road toward Maple Ridge Farm. The trees were speckled with fiery leaves branching out over the path ahead.
A short while later, an old wooden barn I’d visited only a week ago came into view.
“It looks good,” Jude said as he parked out front.
I nodded.
Isabella Morales had told me all about the renovations she’d be working on when I had visited.
The barn was a restored historic building, and she showed me the extra insulation and heating she’d had fitted to keep her herd of alpacas extra comfortable during the colder months.
The entrance had also been redone, with a dark wooden porch that matched the rest of the barn.
Today, it was adorned with a scattering of pumpkins in every corner. Orange, white and green, with a few gourds thrown in, too. Strings of lights ran along the roof and over to a few nearby trees.
It was beautiful during the day, despite the muddiness from last night’s rain, but I imagined it would only get prettier as the sun set.
“Welcome!” Isabella called out as she stepped onto the porch wearing a bright grin, dark wash overalls that complimented her tawny skin tone, and a bandana that held back her wavy black hair. She beckoned us closer. “I hope it wasn’t too much trouble getting here.”
“Not at all,” Jude replied. “And I’ve been talking with Ben about borrowing some tractors, so we should have a wagon ride from town coming out here on the day of the festival.”
“It’ll be perfect,” I agreed, grinning up at him.
At the moment, we both easily got lost in festival talk when anyone asked. It was hard not to. The Harvest Festival was more than just work; it was a celebration of Autumn Creek.
Isabella’s eyes bounced between us both. “Good, good.” She motioned us through the farm store which sold candles, yarn, and alpaca wool sweaters, and grabbed a burlap sack on her way. “Ready to meet the herd?”
The back door swung open into a sprawling field. It was framed by wooden fences and forest, with plenty of land for the animals to wander. But somehow, despite the size of it, as soon as Isabella stepped onto the grass, a whole herd of alpacas came running.
She let out a lilted laugh. “They know I always bring the food.” She handed us the bag before walking over to an outside door and unlocking it. “I’m going to grab their hay, but you’ve got the pellets. Just take a handful and keep your palms flat.”
Then the herd, about sixteen full-grown alpacas of different colours, along with a few babies, saw the bag in Jude’s hand. Their eyes locked on us, and they turned to run our way.
I’d only seen these guys from afar before, and they were intimidating when they charged like this.
I squealed and jumped behind Jude, squeezing his shoulder. A deep laugh escaped him, and I felt his chest rumble beneath my hands as we were surrounded. I wasn’t usually afraid of animals, but these guys looked determined.
“Hey,” he said in a soft voice to them. Somehow he still sounded husky. He grabbed a handful of feed and handed the bag to me as he let them crowd around him.
I took a step back and watched as he gave a caramel coloured one a rub on its neck while it ate from his palm.
Jude looked instantly at ease. Always the country boy, while I wandered from city to city. Or maybe it was because I was just a little closer to their eye level than he was.
Something tugged my muddy hiking boots, pulling my eyes away from him, and I found a tiny alpaca chewing on my shoes. My nerves started to dissolve. This little one was especially cute, with his orangey-beige fleece and big round eyes. He looked up at me, gnawing on my shoelace as he stared.
I crouched down to pat him. The little guy just about reached my knees, and his neck looked comically long. His fur was damp from the wet grass and misty rain we’d had earlier, but he was happy to be cuddled, as long as he could hang onto my shoe.
The shutter of a camera sounded, and I caught Jude shoving his phone back into his pocket. “He likes you.”
“Yeah, I like him, too.” Then I looked deeper into Jude’s golden eyes and pouted. “Aren’t you tempted to bring some home to Bramley Farm?”
“Almost. But I don’t think we’d have any apples left to make cider if we had these guys around.” He reached out a hand to help me up from the ground.
I knew by now that my knees were muddy and my hair would be springing free from my claw clip, but it was hard to care.
I stumbled as Jude lifted me, and he gripped my shoulders, holding me steady. Then his hands slowly ran down my arms, brushing away some grass that stuck to my sweatshirt.
For a second, I was lost in his closeness. His pine and apple scent. His arms, holding me close. I tried to take in a breath of fresh air, but it was all him. So, before I did something I shouldn’t, I craned my neck up to meet his gaze and spoke to pull my mind away from any heated thoughts.
“Don’t forget to send me those photos, they’ll be perfect for the socials.”
Jude paused and released his grip. “Yeah, of course. Perfect for the socials,” he repeated.
I smiled, as casually as I could muster.
It either worked or I looked crazy because Jude stepped away and picked up the feed bag again. “Do you want to try?”
“It doesn’t hurt, right?” I felt out of my element with this outdoorsy farm stuff.
A chuckle left his lips and he stepped closer again. “It doesn’t, I promise.”
I nodded and dipped my hand into the pellets, then looked to Jude for some guidance.
His larger hand cupped mine from below, and he moved behind me, his chest pressed against my shoulder.
He reached our hands and the alpacas, who had been focusing on the grass while we spoke, moved their attention back to us.
A big one knocked my palm and I jolted slightly, but I only fell back into Jude, who was there to catch me.
“Look closely, they’re not scary.”
“I know that.” They were undeniably fluffy and adorable. “But they could probably knock me over.”
He squeezed my shoulder tighter. “They won’t.”
My heart started to beat faster, and I hoped he couldn’t feel it as he stood firmly pressed against my back. There were layers between us, but not enough.
“Says the guy who’s, what? Six foot five?”
“Six.” He smirked. “I’ve got you, sweetheart, stop worrying.”
I rolled my eyes at him as an alpaca nibbled at the feed. I lowered my hand for a shorter one, as the other chewed his meal. Then out of the corner of my eye, I saw one of the little ones with their head shoved right into the feed bag.
My body shook with laughter as I poured my pellets into Jude’s open palm and peeled away to stop the small alpaca from eating their entire body weight in food.
“I think that’s a bit much, little guy,” I called out. But of course, the alpaca wasn’t listening. So I sped up, jogging closer. I was just mere steps away when the muddy ground slipped out from underneath me.
My feet went flying and I slid across the dirt, landing right by the bag.
That finally made the alpaca lift its head. He assessed my mess of limbs and mud with a bored look in his round eyes, before leaning into the bag again.
“Oh, no, you don’t. You’ll make yourself sick.” Still sitting on the ground, I pulled him back and tightened the top of the burlap, closing the sack of food.
I let out an assumed huff, looking down at my boots, leggings, and Autumn Creek sweatshirt—all splattered with mud. It could have been worse in an animal field, luckily it was just damp earth today.
I’ll survive.
Jude closed the gap between us, his long strides covering the ground without needing to run. Yet somehow even if he did, I don’t think he would’ve fallen. He had an air of experience surrounding him, and was much more surefooted on this farm than I was.
“You okay?” He crouched beside me. “You slid pretty far.”
“Impressive, right?”
He let his taut jaw loosen as a grin stretched across my face.
“Nothing hurts?” His eyes wandered down my body, assessing all of me with a careful gaze.
“Just my ego.”
“Everyone’s fallen over in a field before. We’re on a farm. No harm in getting a bit dirty.”
I tried to suppress a giggle, covering my mouth with a muddied hand. “I look like a mess, Jude.”
His cider coloured eyes darkened, still watching my body with more than a slight interest, making sure I wasn’t hurt. “That’s not how I would describe you.”
I cocked my head with a smirk. “Oh, so, you like how I look?”
“Definitely.”
My eyes widened with amusement. “Is filthy your type then?” I flicked my hand in his direction. Dirt scattered across his lightly tanned skin and perfectly tousled hair.
His eyes snapped to mine, pupils dilated.
“Oh, you’ve started it.” He lunged at me, his weight trapping me beneath him as I tried to roll away.
His arms pressed against mine, pinning me to the ground. Mud now covered his clothes, despite him clearly having the upper hand. Then his eyes flickered to my lips, as he brushed a speck of dirt away with his one clean hand. His thumb swiped over my lower lip slowly.
A shaky inhale caught in my throat.
My amusement was quickly fading into something deeper. My pulse reverberated throughout my entire body. As I breathed in, it was his breath I tasted. His lips parted only an inch away from mine.
We were so close, but somehow not close enough.
If my hands weren’t pinned to either side of my head, I might just grab his shirt and pull him in.
In my imagination he’d crush our lips together and I’d roll my hips against his.
I wouldn’t care about the dirt or the cold ground, I just wanted to know what Jude Bramley tasted like. Maybe I should just—
Someone cleared their throat. And shit, Isabella was walking over from the barn. Jude jumped off me, quickly lending me a hand, pulling me up from the ground once again.
“Whoa, who tripped over?” Isabella giggled with a knowing glimmer in her dark brown eyes.
“Guilty.” I smiled sheepishly, trying to hide my blush. But my heart was beating furiously and my head was filled with racing thoughts.
I shouldn’t want to kiss him as much as I do.
“Do you want to keep touring the farm, or you can clean up at my place if you need to?”
“No,” I replied quickly. “Let’s keep going.”
I didn’t care about the mud or cold air. What I did care about was being distracted by Jude’s heated gaze. I could feel it on me, even without looking, as I walked behind Isabella.
He could see right through me. As always. And I needed to stop thinking about that. Wanting Jude crossed so many lines. And for what—just for me to leave soon? Despite what Dawn had suggested, there were no guarantees for my future.
Still, that didn’t stop the yearning inside of me.