Chapter 13 #2
“Somebody could walk around that corner at any second,” I say as his mouth crashes into mine.
His lips are sweet and warm as the kiss deepens. My fingers twist in his shirt, and a moan escapes me as I feel how hard he is pressed against me. I rub my palm against him, and he groans, running his fingers through my hair.
Every alarm bell rings, and I know I should stop this before someone catches us. There are hundreds of, if not a thousand, people just on the other side of the barn. But I can’t stop. Our tongues swipe together, and I can taste the mint of his toothpaste.
“Fuck,” he whispers, pulling away.
His forehead drops against mine, and we’re both breathing like we sprinted through the orchard to be here. He catches my wrist and pins it flat against his chest. His heart is slamming.
“We need to stop,” he says, “or I’m going to take you against this barn in the middle of the day.”
“Maybe I won’t stop you.”
The sound he makes is barely human. He removes the space between us and pushes me against the wall with one hand braced above my head.
His mouth grazes my jaw, then my ear, all the way to that spot just below it that makes my knees go weak.
He knows about that spot. He found it in the cemetery and never forgot.
“Careful, sweetheart. I’m trying to be a gentleman, and you’re making it impossible.”
“You started it,” I whisper.
“You’re right.”
His teeth nibble my earlobe, and heat pours straight down between my thighs. I’m too worked up. He pulls back an inch and focuses entirely on me.
“I want to see you again,” I admit.
“Tell me when,” he murmurs.
“Midnight,” I manage.
“Is that our witching hour?”
He kisses down my neck. It’s so damn filthy, and I want more. But he steps back, straightening his jacket while I try to remember how my legs work.
“You’re so fucking sexy,” he says. “When you see me in the orchard, you can’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
He steps forward and tugs my bottom lip into his mouth. “Like you want to fuck me.”
“Mmm. I do.”
He groans like I hurt him, steals one last hard kiss, and steps back. “Go. Before we get caught.”
I walk back toward the doughnut line, buzzing from head to toe. Josie is three people from the front.
“Perfect timing,” she says. “I think I’m going to get three.”
“Me too. They’re so good. I dream about these suckers in the spring and summer.”
We move up to the window and order half a dozen with two cups of coffee. Within seconds, we’re being handed warm rings straight out of the fryer.
Josie lifts the cinnamon sugar bread to her nose and inhales. “This is heaven.”
“Wait until you taste them.”
As soon as she does, a moan escapes her. “Damn.”
We eat and walk toward the hayride. By the time the tractor arrives, we’re licking the cinnamon and sugar from our fingertips.
My only goal today is to give my little cousin the official fall season kickoff tour.
We ride around the orchard, learning the history I’ve heard a thousand times.
We drink cider that tastes like October.
Josie photographs everything—the colorful trees, the peaks with their new dusting of white, me mid-bite with sugar on my chin.
We’re deep in the row of Honeycrisps, baskets half full, when Josie freezes mid-reach.
“Oh my gosh,” she whispers. “That’s him.”
I drop the apple in my hand before I even spot him.
“That’s the guy you helped,” Josie says, waggling her brows. “The one you did all those private lessons with.”
“Sessions. They were sessions.”
“You can call them whatever you want, babe. He paid you a fortune to spend time with you. I even clocked that.” She bumps my shoulder with hers. “Go say hi.”
“I’m not going over there.”
“Blaire, look at him,” she says. She’s already fluffing my hair like a pageant mom.
Doris Jean, Autumn, and now my own cousin have tried to hook me up with this one man. Every matchmaker in three counties has been assigned my case.
“He’s a client,” I say.
“He was a client. If it were me, I’d go chat with him. Sexy man in an apple orchard, alone, picking apples. Look how small they look in his hands.” She elbows me again.
I glance over at him, and his hands do look huge. She shrugs and drifts down the row with her basket in tow. I stay where I am, reaching for the same apple twice.
That’s when a beautiful woman walks up to him.
She’s pretty in an effortless way, with a dark ponytail, tight jeans, and a white puffer vest. The woman looks like she came straight out of a hot apple cider ad.
She moves close to him and laughs as she points up.
Jamie, with his height, reaches into the branches and brings down the apple she couldn’t reach.
Her hand rests on his forearm. My heart pounds in my ears as heat crawls up the back of my neck.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
It’s a fling. We’ve hooked up once. That’s all this is.
It’s all it ever can be. But still, I watch from the corner of my eye.
He smiles at her and hands her another apple.
Their fingers brush together. Maybe she’s the one, his true love.
That thought snaps me out of my jealousy.
The grounds were very clear that Jamie would find the love of his life.
I have to allow him to find the person he’s supposed to be with.
The apple in my hand has a bruise from me pressing my thumb into it.
This feeling is one I haven’t experienced in a long time. People have come to me for teas to remedy this. There isn’t a cure for jealousy.
He steps away from her, creating a foot of space between them, even if he’s smiling. The woman doesn’t get the hint. I overhear her ask for his number, and that’s when I stroll away, pretending to be unbothered.
“You okay?” Josie asks when I catch up to her.
“Perfect. I think I picked some delicious apples.”
She grins. “Me too.”
“Come on. Let’s pay, then get out of here.”
A few teenagers, who’d rather be anywhere else than here, help check people out. By the registers are tons of goodies that are going home with me, like local honey, cider by the gallon, and pyramid stacks of preserves. I grab one of everything.
Once the apples are weighed, I’m given the total.
“Eighty-eight dollars and eighty-eight cents,” the guy says.
I pull my card from my pocket as Jamie materializes and hands over a hundred-dollar bill.
“I’ve got it,” he interrupts.
“No, no. Not necessary.” I shove my card toward the kid, but he already has the bill in the drawer and is making change.
“Keep it,” he tells the guy, then turns to me. “Hope you have a great day.”
I stand there speechless.
“Thank you!” Josie says beside me, grabbing our sacks of goods.
He’s smug as he walks away, laughing.
When he’s out of earshot, Josie grabs my arm.
“He just paid for our entire haul,” she whisper-screams. “Had I known that, I’d have gotten one of everything!”
I roll my eyes and hold back my smile. “He shouldn’t have done that.”
“You know, my grandma always says to say thank you and accept your blessings.” She carries both bags, and I take one from her because they’re heavy. “I would ask for his number so fast.”
“Unlock the car, matchmaker.”
The receipt says $88.88, and the repeating numbers are a sign from the universe.
The eights? Abundance. Infinite possibilities. Spiritual alignment. Or it could mean love is on the way.
I shiver, fold the receipt in half, and shove it into my pocket.
I climb inside the car and buckle. Josie talks the entire drive back about the doughnuts, the hayride, and about how she understands why people love experiencing the season in Colorado.
It’s humbling to experience it through her eyes.
I grew up here, so it sometimes makes me jaded to just how wonderful this place is.
It’s home, and I don’t think I’ll ever leave.
The aspens are showing off this morning, and I find myself smiling even though it’s been a weird morning.
The carnival in the middle of town square opens this weekend, and the traffic returning to Pine Haven is bumper to bumper. Now that fall has officially kicked off, the leaf peepers are out and about.
After an hour of traveling, Josie finally pulls in front of the shop to drop me off.
“Do you like apple pie?” Josie asks.