Chapter 10
It wasn’t until they were seated alone at a bench, hot cider cupped in their hands, that Ethan started prying. “So ‘anchored,’ huh? Is that how you really feel about Autumn Ridge?”
Cali had to admit it was. She told him how, even before her grandmother had willed her the house, her family had driven down for this exact same fall festival each year.
And the holidays. And the spring flower event.
And the Fourth of July. “Where do you think I get all these brooches?” she asked, pointing at the sparkling white one pinned to her chest. “They sell them at a booth right over there. I’m obsessed. ”
“Must be nice,” he said, “having a place like this, a place that feels like home.”
Cali smiled. “You know, it’s like those swallows, in Capistrano. Doesn’t matter how far they go, they always circle back. That’s Autumn Ridge for me.” She took a long sip of her cider.
Ethan stared past her, deep in thought, then said, “When I was a kid, my older sister and I lived with our mom in Miami. She was single, worked as a realtor. She was barely home, so we had a lot of time to get into trouble.” He chuckled softly, remembering but not sharing.
“When my mom remarried, my stepdad was military, so we moved every couple years. New schools, new towns, no time to get attached. Guess I got used to not feeling tied down. After a while, moving was just easier, starting over in a new place,” he said with a half-smile.
“When you never unpack all the way, there’s not much to lose when it’s time to go. ”
Cali watched him for a beat, the lights from the cider tent flickering across his face.
“Ah. So that’s how you’ve gotten to know people here so quickly. You’re used to it.”
Ethan gave her a puzzled expression. “Well, there’s more to it than that.”
“How so?”
Cali tilted her head, waiting, but before he could explain, a shriek of laughter split the air. A cluster of kids rushed a barrel, dunking their heads beneath the water. Ethan blinked at the chaos.
“What is this insanity?”
“You’ve never bobbed for apples? It’s basically a rite of passage around here. Miami didn’t have bobbing for apples?”
“Miami didn’t even have fall. We had year-round summer … and hurricanes.”
She crinkled her nose at that. “So no corn mazes, no cider, no pumpkin contests?”
“Closest thing I had was chasing ice cream trucks.” The twinkling lights played against his hair and cheekbones. “You know, I really admire how sure you are of yourself here, how comfortable. You belong in a way I’ve never truly felt.”
If only he knew. Yes, she knew Autumn Ridge like the back of her hand, thanks to all those childhood visits to her grandmother.
But the town didn’t quite know her yet. And sometimes she wondered if that was her fault.
A pang of guilt flickered as she thought of how easily people waved and spoke to Ethan, how even the stray kitten had gravitated to him first. She only had it now because luck or fate had sent it through the library doors on a cold night.
“That’s just small-town living,” she muttered. “Nothing special.”
Ethan put his cup aside and scooted toward her on the bench, the full span of his muscular thigh pressed against her skirt.
She felt the warmth radiating off him and suddenly felt dizzy, like on the Tilt-a-Whirl.
All euphoric and off-center. Ethan’s gaze fell to her lips and lingered there.
“No. It is special. Cali, don’t you see? You’re—”
A harsh voice cut through the crowd. “Cross! There you are.” A stocky man clapped Ethan on the shoulder. In his other hand he gripped a smoked turkey leg. “They’re pulling the raffle for Sutton’s Auto Body. Free oil change. Whole crew’s headed that way. You in?”
Cali couldn’t be sure, but between the gruffness and his appearance, she thought this might be the foreman—the one Minka complained about.
Ethan turned his head, somewhat perturbed, then glanced back at Cali. “Hey, Carl. Meet Cali. She’s a … uh … she’s a friend.”
Carl gave her a quick nod. “Nice to meet you.” Then his attention was back on Ethan. “So you in or what?”
“I’m kind of in the middle of something right now, Carl. But let me know if one of the guys wins, okay? I’ll catch you after the weekend.”
The foreman took a bite of the turkey leg, juice running down his hand, and talked as he chewed. “Right. Oh, remind me to ask you on Monday about scheduling the flatbed move, will ya? Time’s tickin’. Guess we’ll barely wrap Autumn Ridge before we’re on the road again.”
Ethan shifted his weight back, one hand raking through his dark hair, and tried desperately to catch Cali’s eye again.
But she didn’t notice. Her stomach was already tightening at the words.
On the road again. She forced a polite smile and excused herself to a trash can to throw away her cup while the two of them finished talking.
The carnival music hung in the air, tinny and bright, at odds with the weight in Cali’s chest.
When she returned to the bench, she didn’t even bother to sit down again. She burrowed into his coat, hands in pockets, and said, “Maybe we should get going.”
Ethan let out a long sigh. “I’m sorry. Carl’s not good at reading the room. I had no idea he’d be here.”
“It’s okay,” she said, shaking her head. “I think I’m just getting tired. Usually I’m half asleep in front of the TV by now, bowl of popcorn in my lap. Kind of eager to get home to that little fluffball anyway.”
“Okay,” he said, and he rose from the bench. They walked back to the parking lot together, a chill nestling into Cali’s bones.
Back at her place, Ethan insisted on walking her the few yards from his truck to the door.
The autumn air was in full effect and alive with the subtle, layered sounds of hooting owls and katydids singing.
The wind picked up, making the wind chime hanging beside her doorstep dance with its soft, rhythmic tings.
She breathed in deeply, relishing the feeling of that post-fall festival glow.
“Well, thanks for tonight,” she said, unlocking the door and turning back toward Ethan. “And for helping me feel better about my dart skills.”
She could tell he was relieved to hear her being playful again, relaxed instead of uptight and quiet, as she’d been the entire ride back home.
He smiled down at her, his gray eyes tracing her features.
Hair and eyes, then finally landing on her lips.
“Do you think she’s right about us? The palmist? ” he asked. “Rivals, but not for long?”
“Only if we both really want it,” she reminded him. “Do you really want it, Ethan?”
He smirked and stepped closer. “I do. I really want it. But do me a favor and check over my shoulder for hidden Carls this time, okay?”
Her heels lifted just enough to peer over his broad shoulders and catch the scent of his hair.
But he couldn’t wait any longer. He leaned down and brushed his lips against hers, her body lifting toward him.
His lips still tasted like apple cider. A soft moan escaped her, so he deepened the kiss, hands pressed into the small of her back.
Next thing she knew, her fingertips were touching his jawline and pulling through his hair, like satin against her skin.
The sensation unraveled her. She was shocked at how natural it felt, to connect with him, to feel completely consumed.
Ethan paused to come up for air and grazed his lips along her cheek and earlobe. A shudder ran down Cali’s spine.
“I shouldn’t say this,” he whispered, “but … you in these skirts? It drives me crazy.”
“Really?” she whispered back.
He nodded. “You’ve got no idea, do you? How good you look when you’re not even trying?”
He wasn’t wrong. Cali never saw herself as, well, attractive.
Sure, she was put together nicely. Nice clothes and nice makeup.
But she wasn’t the kind of woman men went out of their way to pursue.
That was reserved for young blondes in shorter skirts than she’d ever wear.
When guys were attracted to her, it was usually because of her wit or intelligence.
And she didn’t mind that at all. In fact, she was almost certain Ethan was attracted to those qualities, too.
But no one had ever said she drove them crazy before.
Ethan traced the tip of his nose down her neck, kissing there too, nipping and sucking until she thought she might melt right into the porch. Damn you, Ethan Cross. She hated how easily he undid her. She touched his chin and guided his lips back to hers.
She didn’t want this night to end, yet the words “Pretty sure this breaks some kind of library rule” slipped out against his mouth. “You know—falling for the patrons. Maybe we should call it a night.”
“Is this about my overdue library fines?” he murmured. “I’ve got money in the truck. I’ll pay you back right now.”
She giggled, and he shuddered at the feel of her breath against his skin.
“Okay. If you want to stop here, we stop. Call me a vampire, but I don’t cross the threshold unless you say so.” Ethan kissed her once more, firm and unhurried, but he didn’t let her go.
God, it was tempting. All she had to do was step aside, let him in, give herself over to this ache.
But a part of her held back. He wanted more.
She could feel it in the quick, unsteady thrum of his heartbeat.
She wanted more, too. A lot more. But this was already farther than she’d ever intended to go.
She forced herself to step back. “Goodnight, Ethan,” she whispered, handing him his coat.
Inside, Cali pressed her back to the door, willing her breath to steady, telling herself she’d done the right thing.
Outside, Ethan lingered on the porch, coat in hand, telling himself it was right, too—because when she finally let him in, he wanted it to be because she’d chosen to.