Chapter 26
I woke up dazed, my eyes adjusting slowly to my dark living room. I was on my couch, but the blanket from my bed was draped over me. Flickers of last night started to flash in my mind, and I looked around.
James was on the floor next to the couch, asleep. No blanket.
After going through my third-grade yearbook, we’d talked. For ages. For so long that I didn’t even remember falling asleep.
I reached for my phone on the floor next to the couch and tapped the screen.
3:16.
I threw the covers off my body, the time acting like an adrenaline shot. I’d intended to set an alarm for 2:30 to get started on baking. That clearly hadn’t happened.
Gingerly, I climbed off the couch, avoiding any contact with James, then rushed to my room, where I closed the door before turning on the light.
I dressed and fixed my hair as best I could.
I’d have to come home and shower afterward—assuming I had time.
Our booths were supposed to open at nine, and I had a lot of baking to do.
I shut off my light, then opened my bedroom door carefully to avoid any clicks or creaking. I stayed in place for a few seconds, hoping my eyes would adjust to the dark again so that I could get my keys and leave without waking James. I’d text him to let him know where I’d gone.
Walking on the balls of my feet, I made my way toward the kitchen, where I’d left my purse with the keys inside. I grabbed it, wincing as the keys gave a soft jangle, then tiptoed toward the door.
“And where do you think you’re going?”
I jumped at James’s sleepy voice. “Jeez! You scared me. I’ve got to get started baking.”
He raised up on his elbow and scrubbed a hand over the top half of his face. “Hold on. I’m coming.”
“No—just sleep.”
He got up anyway. And I was too willing to have him with me to argue more.
It was cold out, and the pavement was still wet from the rain as we walked to my car. James slipped his hand through mine like that’s where it was meant to be.
Even though he’d driven to the festival yesterday, we took my truck—which was his truck. He drove, but he didn’t let go of my hand, which meant shifting with his left hand, something he managed to do without crashing by steering with his knee.
It might’ve been the most attractive thing I’d ever seen.
I’d done a lot of early mornings at Keller’s, but this was my first time doing a dawn shift at the sugar shack.
James put on music, and for the next four hours, we baked.
We were 100% focused. No hand brushes or stolen kisses, none of James standing right behind me with his cheek pressed against my hair, no doubling over laughing when a bubble of flour in the mixer popped in James’s face.
Or at least not much of that.
Around 7:30, we walked to the truck to part ways because we both needed to get ready. The way James kissed me against the truck had me lightheaded all the way home. The knowledge that I’d have to spend the entire day without him made me feel like an angsty teen again.
Mrs. Keller and Morgan were already in the bakery when I came down to replace the stuff James and I had moved out of the rain last night. I blinked away the image of him lifting me onto the counter because it made me feel like I might pass out.
Given the rain, things were a bit late getting off the ground, but I didn’t mind. It gave me more time to get set up.
My parents showed up around eleven and bought a maple cinnamon sticky bun to share, then made their way to the farm booth. It was probably a good thing I couldn’t see it from where I was since my nerves made my stomach feel like the sea in a storm. I wanted so badly for them to like James again.
The day cleared up, offering blue skies and sun, which dried up the damp pavement—my one anchor to last night. With James out of sight, it was too easy to feel like I’d dreamed it all up.
“Hey.”
I turned around and found Morgan walking toward me.
She smiled. “How’s it going?”
“It’s going,” I said. “How about inside?”
She shrugged. “It’s been pretty slow. I think most people are coming here instead. I thought maybe I could spell you for a bit—let you walk around.”
By walk around, did she mean make a beeline for the maple farm booth? Because that was what I’d be doing.
“That’s really nice of you,” I said. “I won’t be gone too long.”
“Take your time!”
I made an effort to browse a couple of the nearby booths for her benefit, but when the crowds swallowed me from view, I headed for the Carver booth.
It was just James there, and he had his hands full boxing up orders. He’d been nice to transport the fruits of our early-morning labors.
I slipped behind the booth and started helping him without a word.
He glanced over at me, and a smile lit his eyes.
James Carver’s eyes lit up. For me.
It was like living in an alternate reality. Or my teenage fantasy.
We worked side by side—maybe more than the situation actually required—for a few minutes. As long as I could justify to Morgan.
James’s fingers intertwined with mine as he placed two blondies in a box at the same time as I put a cream puff in.
I glanced up at him, and he winked at me.
I looked up to see whether Mrs. Perry had noticed, but my gaze snagged on someone a dozen feet behind her, standing in line for a different booth.
Ryan.
He was watching me, his hand holding Mia’s and Lily’s.
My stomach dropped into my boots as our gazes met. We weren’t near, but the look of betrayal in his eyes was crystal clear.
Mia jumped up and down, tugging on his hand until he broke his gaze away to respond.
I shut my eyes in consternation while James continued serving Mrs. Perry, blissfully unaware.
It was probably time for me to head back to the bakery booth.
I restocked the blondies, then glanced up, my heart shooting into my throat.
Ryan was approaching. Alone.
I wanted to warn James, but anything I could do, Ryan would see.
James gave me a playful nudge with his elbow, letting his body rest against mine. “Get back to work.”
I swallowed, my eyes on Ryan.
James’s gaze followed mine, and he stiffened.
Ryan bypassed the line and stopped in front of the booth. The people waiting to buy baked goods looked at him. “Business looks good.” His voice was colorless.
I didn’t respond. I didn’t know what to respond.
James didn’t say anything either.
Ryan’s eyes moved from James to me and lingered there. I wanted him to yell at me. At us. To tear into us.
But he didn’t, and the hurt in his eyes made me feel like I was breaking inside.
He turned and walked away, hands in his pockets.
I took in a shaky breath.
“Can I get a box of blondies?” the man at the front of the line asked.
James cleared his throat. “Of course.”
“I’m going to head back,” I said, my stomach swimming.
James nodded. “See you later?”
I nodded, then hurried back to the bakery booth, Ryan’s pain-filled expression hovering front and center in my vision.
Morgan brought me up to speed, then headed back inside, leaving me to my conflicted thoughts. I wasn’t with them for long, as just two minutes later, Mrs. Keller appeared.
She smiled at the stranger buying an apple cider donut but waited to talk to me until the transaction was complete.
“Perhaps we should shutter the store and run a booth out here,” she joked. “We’d sure save a lot on rent. Though, I did think there would be more people in line given how quiet it’s been inside.”
“It ebbs and flows,” I reassured her, though I didn’t care much about selling products at the moment.
“Just as it always has. Well”—she looked down the street—“since you and Morgan have things covered, I think I’ll go take a gander at the other booths for a bit.”
“Enjoy.”
She smiled and went on her way.
I pushed a breath out through rounded lips as I watched her fade into the crowds, wondering what she’d think when she saw the line at the Carver Maple Farm booth. That one didn’t seem to ebb much. At the rate things were selling there, I’d be up at three again to bake.
With James, if I had any luck.
My stomach twisted. The encounter with Ryan made the prospect of spending time with James feel tainted and guilt-filled.
Mrs. Keller didn’t stop at the booth again on her way back, but the Ednas had returned for sticky buns and were yapping my ears off, so I couldn’t take the time to analyze her facial expression.
Mia skipped up to the Keller booth in the early afternoon, with Ryan and Lily not far behind. She was blabbing a hundred miles an hour about the pumpkin she’d painted. My muscles were tight as Ryan approached, but I took a breath and focused on the delightfully chaotic pumpkin Mia showed me.
“When are you going to babysit me, Aunt Sadie?” Mia asked.
Mondays were our day, normally, but this week had just been too wild with the festival.
“That’s a great question,” I said. “It’s up to your mommy and daddy.”
“Aunt Sadie’s busy this week, Mimi,” Ryan said.
I glanced at him, but he wasn’t looking at me.
“I always have time for my little Mimi,” I said, tickling her into a giggle fit.
“It’s fine,” Ryan said. “We can just hold off until next week.”
“Maybe you can be with Aunt Sadie extra long next week,” Lily said.
Mia had been on the verge of a tantrum, but this seemed to appease her—that and the sticky bun I gave her.
Lily and Mia said goodbye, but Ryan was quiet.
The rest of the day passed by like a slug going the wrong direction on a moving walkway. When it was finally time to close up shop, I did it in record time, then went to the farm booth.
It was just James there, and he was just finishing putting things away.
“Hey,” I said, setting my hands on the counter. “You busy?”