Chapter 27
“Depends who’s asking,” James teased.
I managed a laugh, but there was too much on my mind to provide much space for humor. “Wanna go on a walk with me?”
His gaze fixed on me, his lightly flirtatious demeanor shifting toward something more wary. “Yeah. Of course.”
There was a pumpkin bake-off and a pie-eating contest going on, but we walked the other direction.
“Did Mrs. Keller come by?” I asked, not quite ready to delve into things yet. I desperately wished I could be transported back to last night.
“If by did she come by, you mean did she walk by very slowly and try to look like she wasn’t analyzing everything about the booth, yes. She came by.”
I cringed. “That’s what I was worried about. When she talked to me just before that, there was just one customer and no line at the bakery booth. And it’s been slow-going in the actual store.”
James shrugged as we turned onto the trail that ran along the river. “Maybe she should’ve listened to her best employee more.”
“I don’t know about best employee…but definitely the only one. Until recently, at least.”
We took the trail that hugged the river behind Main Street. There were lampposts every now and then, providing bright spots on the dim path. The only sound was the rushing of the small river over rocks until I gained the courage to speak.
“So…Ryan.”
James just nodded, looking at the ground.
“He, Lily, and Mia came by the Keller booth after lunch. It was painful. Mia wanted me to babysit her because I didn’t on Monday like I usually do, and Ryan was weird about it.” I blinked quickly, embarrassed that I was getting emotional over babysitting.
James was quiet. For so long that I looked over at him.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“Yeah.”
“James…”
“I am. I’m just…waiting.”
I cut in front of him and put my hands on his arms to stop us in the path. “Waiting for what?”
His eyes searched mine in silence, then he broke his gaze away, turning his head to the side. “For you to change your mind.”
My brows pinched together. “What?”
He still didn’t look at me.
“Change my mind about what, James?”
His jaw flexed a couple of times before he spoke. “About me.”
I blinked, my grip on his arms slackening.
Was he under the impression that I’d invited him on this walk tonight to let him down easy?
“James.”
He kept staring off somewhere beyond the river.
I took his face in my hands and gently guided it so our gazes locked.
I debated what to say to help him understand. To reassure him.
In the end, I went on my tiptoes and pressed my lips to his. I kissed him to say everything I didn’t know how to put into words.
Slowly, his body relaxed, his arms wrapped around me, and he kissed me back. Tenderly. Almost gratefully.
The stress of the day melted off my shoulders, and I threaded my fingers through his hair, anchoring us together.
But we couldn’t kiss forever.
Especially not when a group of teenagers started whooping at us down the trail.
We broke apart, but rather than showing my warm face, I buried it in his chest.
He laughed softly into my hair, his left arm around me tight.
“Hey,” a kid said. “Aren’t you that guy from the parking lot? At the mayor’s party?”
I knew that voice. It was Ethan, the maple glaze monster, on what sounded like an electric scooter.
I gripped James more tightly and made sure my face was totally hidden.
Curse this red hair.
The group whizzed past, apparently not interested enough in the answer to Ethan’s question to slow down. Thank heaven.
“Are they gone?” My voice was muffled in James’s shirt.
“Nope.” James kept a tight hold on me.
I listened carefully, but the only sound was the river. “Now?”
“Nope.”
I pulled back enough to sneak a peek. There was no one anywhere nearby.
He laughed and dropped his arm.
I stepped back and looked at the figures as they disappeared around the bend. “Probably should pick less public spots for these moments going forward. So far, it’s been Main Street and the river path.”
“So, there is a going forward?” The question was more serious than joking.
I blinked. “I sure hope so.”
His eyes searched mine. “That wasn’t a goodbye kiss?”
I pulled back more. “Not for me. Apparently, I did a bad job, because that was not the message I was trying to send. The opposite, in fact. Why are you smiling like that?”
He was grinning—a goofy, can’t-stop-myself grin—but he reached a hand over and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. “I just really didn’t want that to be the last time I kissed you.”
“It won’t be. It can’t be.” It was a promise to him and a reassurance to myself. “But I don’t know what to do about my brother.”
“I know. I don’t either.”
It was quiet for a few seconds.
“I get that this”—he motioned between us—“is complicated and has a lot of potential consequences. But there’s a really big part of me that just…doesn’t care. I just want you.”
I swallowed, grateful he was saying it so I didn’t have to. “Me too.” I took in a big breath and let it out. “But we can’t just—”
“No. We can’t.”
“So, what, then? What do we do? I don’t know how to do this without hurting Ryan.”
James’s brows pulled into a deeper v. He stared at me for a couple seconds, then shut his eyes.
“What are you doing?”
“It’s kind of hard to focus on anything when I’m looking at you.”
“Yeah. And even harder when we’re kissing.”
He opened his eyes.
“It kind of feels like we’ve been in first gear for a while, and now we’re switching. On a hill. And we know how that went.”
He smiled ruefully. “We survived.”
“Barely.”
“Look, Sadie, like I told you—I could kiss you all night. But I can also hold off on kissing or even touching you as long as I need to if some space will help us figure out how to handle things with your brother. Would that help? Dialing it back physically?”
I swallowed.
It would. I knew it would.
I just hated hearing him suggest it. Part of me worried that if we dialed it back, we might never dial it back forward. James wanting me was too good to be true. Too good to last.
But ignoring the ramifications of our feelings for each other wasn’t a real option, and I had a feeling it would come back to bite us if we didn’t take the time to do this right.
“I think it’s probably for the best,” I said.
He nodded. “I’ll think on it tonight.”
“Me too.”
We stared at each other as I envisioned a night staring at my ceiling while James stared at his.
I was already regretting this plan. I might not be able to kiss James and access my critical thinking skills at the same time, but how much distance was necessary?
“Maybe we could think about it together?”
“Like, at your apartment?” he suggested.
I lifted a shoulder. “They say two heads are better than one.”
The corner of James’s mouth lifted in wry amusement. “We’re already bad at this. I don’t know that I’d get much thinking done in the same room as you.”
I sighed. “Yeah. Probably not. So, we think about it apart.”
He nodded, his chest still rising and falling more rapidly than usual.
“We go home tonight,” I said, coaching myself. “We regroup. Then we talk when we’ve come up with a plan.”
He nodded again.
“At least I’ll be motivated, right?” I said, trying to find the silver lining.
The five-minute walk to our cars felt like five hours, with two feet of space between us and only eye contact. And when we said goodnight, we just had to look at each other and wave, praying we’d come up with a solution to an impossible problem.
Alone.