Chapter 23 #2
“We raised a pretty penny”—she held up the heavy jar of winnings with effort—“probably most of it donated by you two and Carson, but hey, I’m not looking this gift horse in the mouth.
The children of Autumn Ridge thank you.” Her gaze moved to me.
“Sorry you didn’t get the kiss you were hoping for, Sadie. The night is still young, though!”
My cheeks warmed as she winked and walked away. “Next year, I nominate you to participate,” I called after her.
She just waved over her shoulder.
When I turned back toward James, he was looking at me.
“Well,” May said, walking over to us before I could analyze his expression, “I can’t pretend I wasn’t hopin’ to see one of you two kiss that cute little piglet, but we don’t always get what we wish for, do we?
” She gave James a side hug, then me. Despite the big smile on her face, she was looking exhausted and holding the cash box.
I let out a big sigh. “What a day.”
“What a day indeed.” She opened the cash box to display tightly stacked bills. “And that’s just the cash. Most of our sales were digital.”
The knowledge that a large chunk of that money was mine sent a little shiver of excitement through me. But it was what it represented that I cared about even more.
“What will you do to celebrate?” James asked me.
“I don’t know…not kiss a pig?”
He shot me a look. “Pretty low bar. You should celebrate having the longest line in town.”
I couldn’t help but smile. “I hadn’t really thought about it.
I guess I should have some dinner at some point.
I’ve got a Top Ramen with my name on it up in my apartment.
Then? Sleep. I’ve got a bunch of blondies and cookies to make first thing tomorrow morning.
” I wasn’t even mad that I’d be up before dawn to do it.
“Oooh, no, darlin’,” May said, closing the cash box. “Top Ramen is not on the menu tonight. You’ll be havin’ a proper meal.”
“I agree,” James said. “But you’re not cookin’, Mama. You need rest and a proper meal too.”
“Well, then,” she said. “That leaves us one option, doesn’t it?”
We all looked down the street toward Maple Bar and Grill, the town’s main food joint.
When we walked through the doors, it was…lively. Evidently, we weren’t the only ones with the idea.
I hadn’t realized how hungry I was until the server set my plate in front of me. After two days of selling butter, flour, and sugar to people, the intense saltiness of a burger and fries was everything I hadn’t known I needed—and a craving Top Ramen would’ve only tickled.
We chatted about the last two days, swapping stories of funny customers and discussing some of the events that had taken place—crafts, carnival games, the petting zoo—until we all sat back to give our full tummies space to expand, surrounded by the buzz of chatter and a deep sense of contentment.
James and May had arrived in separate cars, which were parked well down the street, thanks to Main being closed off for the festival. I could’ve gone straight to my apartment, but as exhausted as I should have been, my body was teeming with leftover adrenaline.
Coming this close to kissing a pig will do that to you.
James helped his mom into her car, and I waved as she backed out and drove off.
James turned toward me, and we smiled at each other.
“Congratulations on becoming a town sensation,” he said.
I shook my head. “Couldn’t have done it without you and your mom. Quite literally.”
“I doubt that.”
“Well, I wouldn’t have wanted to.”
The ambiguous words settled over us.
“Are you headed for bed, then?” he asked. “You must be wiped out.”
“Weirdly, I’m not? I got tired after that burger, but I feel like I got a second wind.” I blinked as something hit my cheek. I looked up and laughed when I got hit again, this time on the forehead. “It’s raining.” Apparently, I was in the business of stating the obvious, like Karen on Mean Girls.
James put out his palms, testing my assessment. “Glad it waited until we closed up shop.”
“Me too.”
Our gazes met as we both realized what this meant. It was raining, and the booths, while unmanned, were still up.
James glanced up the street. “We should probably—”
“Yeah.”
We jogged down Main toward the maple farm booth.
I worked on rolling up the table runner while James made sure all essential items were as protected as possible.
Boy Scout that he was, he’d stashed a folded-up tarp under the booth for just such a time as this.
We draped it over the booth, the cold rain pelting us harder with each passing minute.
Other booth owners were taking measures to protect their at-risk items, though a number of people had gone home for the evening.
We ran down the line, doing our best to set things under available surfaces, hoping the rain wouldn’t stick around too long.
We reached the bakery booth, which, thanks to its lack of Boy Scout employees, had no tarps lying in wait. The bakery itself was so near that we just grabbed stuff and ran it there.
I fished the key out of my crossbody bag to unlock the door. My hair was taking the opportunity the rain provided to frizz up like Medusa. There was no time to worry about that, though. We set things down on the counter, then ran back for another load.
When we stepped out of Keller’s a couple of minutes later, the rain was coming down harder and faster than ever. Most other booths had done their best or abandoned ship, making the slap of rain on pavement the only sound on the street.
I fumbled for the key in my purse, blinking to keep the rain from dripping into my eyes. The bakery had a pathetically small overhang—essentially useless in this situation—and I laughed at my lack of coordination as my cold, slippery hands fumbled to find the key.
James made a tent with his hands to cover my head.
“A for effort,” I said over the sound of the rain.
He promptly removed his hands, making it clear that they had been providing protection.
“Hey!” I protested, using one of my own hands to shield myself as I shot him an ungrateful look.
There was a playful look under his dark lashes, which clung together from the rain running down his face in little rivulets. His hair was soaked, piecing together, as black as the woods on the night of our campout.
My heart skipped at the memory of that night.
“Gah!” I said in frustration as the key eluded me.
He grabbed the hand I was using to shield myself.
“What’re you—”
He pulled me away from the awning’s shoddy cover and into the pounding rain.
I resisted, but I was no match for his force, and my efforts weren’t genuine.
Jogging backward with a smile on his lips, he pulled me until we were in the middle of the street. Raindrops danced around us on the pavement, sending smaller drops into the air on contact, like tiny water fireworks.
Holding our hands up, he spun me around, the white of his teeth in contrast to the dark everywhere else—the skies, the street, his eyes. His gray shirt clung to his body like it might wash away if it didn’t hold onto him for dear life.
I twirled around, laughing and shivering all at once, the cold of every raindrop bringing my body to life.
His hand gave another yank, and I stumbled toward him, laughing as I barreled into him. His hand caught me at my back while mine splayed against the wet shirt at his chest.
Our gazes met, and the laugh on my lips and the smile on his began to fade like chalk in the rain.
The look in his eyes sent a shock gliding along my veins as his gaze searched mine, growing darker and more intense before lowering to my lips. The fingertips of his hand pressed into the small of my back, and mine grasped responsively at his chest.
He lowered his head until his forehead met mine, and I closed my eyes, forcing myself to breathe, waiting for his lips.
James’s other hand joined the one at my waist, gripping me tighter than ever, pressing our rain-soaked bodies together.
And then…he let go.