Aubrey
Mayridge is good at bringing the community together. The harvest festival is just one of the ways we do it.
It’s nothing crazy, not like some other town, but it’s perfect nonetheless.
There are food trucks along the street, kids running between the corn maze and the pumpkin patch, and a tractor ride looping the field at the edge of town.
It’s exactly the same as it’s been my whole life and honestly one of my favorite events Mayridge throws together. And to make it even more special, this year I have a stall.
The bakery sign hangs above my table, and it’s packed with baked goods—lemon bars, snickerdoodles cookies, cinnamon rolls wrapped and ready.
I glance at the table, giving it a once over for the final time and smile. “I think we’ve got everything,” I say, rearranging the table of sweet treats. “Did you grab the Pecan Bars?”
I switch around the pumpkin-flavored cookies and the snickerdoodles, then turn to find Lucy completely absorbed in her phone, her thumbs flying across the screen and a frown on her face.
“Luce?” I prompt gently
Her head snaps up, eyes meeting mine, rimmed with unshed tears. “Sorry… what?”
“Everything okay?” I ask, concern creeping into my voice.
“Yeah… sorry.” She wipes at her eyes quickly and slides her phone into the back pocket of her jeans.
“It’s alright if things aren’t okay, though,” I say softly. “If you want to duck out of the festival today, that’s fine.”
“No, no, I want to be here.” She exhales sharply, running a hand through her hair. “It’s just… Conrad was meant to call last night, and then I got a quick text this morning that said barely anything. He still hasn’t said if he’s coming home for Thanksgiving, so… I’m just a bit anxious, that’s all.”
“I’m sorry,” I reply quietly. Since Conrad joined the military, I’ve seen how much it’s taken out of Lucy. She tries so hard to keep her head up, but the sadness in her eyes slips through.
She waves a hand dismissively, letting out a small huff, then shakes out her arms and forces a bright smile.
“Don’t be silly. It’s not like you forced your brother to randomly change all our plans and join the military.
Today isn’t about Conrad Jenkins and his infuriating choices.
Today is Mayridge’s Harvest Festival, and I’m so excited to be representing Little Strawberries Bakery with you! ”
“As long as you’re sure,” I say.
“I’m one hundred percent sure. Now, is there anything you need me to do?”
“I think we’re just missing the pecan bars, and then we’re good to go.”
“Oh, yeah. They’re in my car. Will you be alright here if I go grab them?”
“Yeah, of course. Thanks.” I watch her weave back through the already hefty crowd as the festival kicks off, a little burst of anticipation in the air.
It’s not long before I spot my parents, along with Brandon and Avery, walking toward my stall. The moment Avery notices me, she lets go of her dad’s hand and barrels straight over.
“Auntie Strawberry!” she calls, as Brandon quickly jogs after her, only catching up once she reaches my stall.
“Avery, what have I said about running off?” Brandon asks, crouching to her level.
“But Daddy, it’s Strawberry!” she protests, waving her hands.
“No buts, kiddo. It’s busy here today. You have to hold my hand.”
“I didn’t hold your hand when that lady painted my pumpkin face,” she argues, pouting.
Brandon holds her hands gently. “Avery, when we walk around the festival, you hold my hand. I need to keep you safe. There are a lot of people, and I don’t want you getting lost. Okay?”
“Okay, Daddy,” she shrugs, then turns to me. “Auntie Strawberry, I’m a pumpkin. See?”
Avery points to her face, covered in orange paint, and I crouch down, gently tilting her head from side to side with my fingers.
“Wow, sweet girl. You’re the cutest pumpkin I’ve ever seen.”
She giggles, then darts past me to inspect my table of goodies.
The sound makes something warm flicker in my chest. I stand and hug my parents and Brandon, but my attention keeps sliding back to Avery as she eyes the cookie tray like it’s treasure.
Sure enough, by the time I let go of Dad, she’s already sneaking one, the oversized cookie hanging out of both sides of her mouth.
“Hey, you got money for that?” I ask, raising a brow.
Her eyes go wide, and she freezes mid-bite, cheeks bulging like a chipmunk. “Daddy does,” she mumbles around the cookie.
I can’t help the grin tugging at my mouth as I hold out my hand toward Brandon. “Pay up.”
He rolls his eyes, already fishing out his wallet. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Rules are rules,” I say, though I’m fighting a laugh.
Brandon sighs but hands over a couple of bills, then quickly grabs Avery’s hand and steers her gently toward him. “Come on, kiddo. Let’s keep moving before you eat the whole of Strawberries table.”
I chuckle as I watch them go. She’s still chewing when she waves, her grin bright and unguarded.
I lift my hand to wave back, and it hits me—how fast she’s growing.
It feels like only yesterday Brandon brought her home from the hospital, a tiny bundle of cuteness tucked into his arms, and now she’s this fiercely independent four-year-old who has the whole family wrapped around her finger.
When I turn back, my parents are both smiling. Mom’s eyes are soft, the way they get when she’s proud of something.
“Everything looks amazing, sweetheart,” she says, scanning the spread like she’s mentally planning what to steal later.
“Strawb, bag us some of those lemon bars—they’re my favorite,” Dad adds with a wink, already pulling out his wallet.
I can’t help but smile as I grab a couple of bars, tucking them into a bag. “Here you go.”
He takes them, slipping the bills into my tip jar. “Thanks, sweetheart.” He presses a quick kiss to my head, and the familiar smell of his aftershave hits me—something grounding and homey. “Best be off after those two before Brandon loses his mind over that kid.”
I laugh, shaking my head as they head off. The laughter fades into a quiet satisfaction that settles in my chest.
Not long after my parents leave and Lucy returns with the pecan bars, Kade and Liv stop by hand in hand. I’m chatting with them, laughing at something Kade says, when I turn and spot Trent and Clay heading our way.
My stomach tightens. This is the first time we’ve been around each other in public since we started things back up, and I’m having a hard time calming my nerves.
As if in slow motion, Trent strolls up to the table. He claps Kade on the shoulder, greeting him with an easy grin, then leans in to kiss Liv on the cheek. When his gaze finally shifts to me, the rest of the world fades to a blur.
God, he looks good.
The fitted black T-shirt clings to his arms, outlining muscle and those damn veins that make my thoughts stumble out of line. His dark-wash jeans sit low on his hips like they were made for him, and his hair—freshly cut—keeps that messy length on top while the sides are sharper, cleaner.
My imagination runs away with me, slipping into thoughts of my fingers threading through his hair, his hands firm at my waist, the heat of him drawing me closer
“Looking good, Bree,” he says, voice low and effortless, like he knows exactly what he’s doing to me.
I blink hard, dragged back into reality too fast as heat crawls up the back of my neck.
“Huh?”
“The baked goods,” he teases, a smirk tugging at his mouth as he nods toward the table. “They look delicious.”
I narrow my eyes, though the corner of my mouth betrays me with a twitch. “Are you going to eat something?”
“Oh, I plan to,” he says smoothly, his tone low and suggestive.
The blush creeps up my neck before I can stop it, and he knows exactly what he’s done.
I busy myself bagging up the cinnamon rolls Liv bought, though I can feel Trent’s gaze on me the entire time—heavy, steady, impossible to ignore. My fingers fumble with the paper bags, and I silently scold myself to focus.
I do my best to act normal, sneaking the occasional glance his way when I think no one’s looking. I’m pretty sure I get away with it—until Liv clears her throat pointedly.
My head snaps toward her. She’s watching me with a knowing little smile, her eyes flicking between me and Trent.
“You two talked?” she whispers, her tone light but probing, just loud enough for me to hear as I hand over her bag of goodies.
“Uh-huh,” I murmur, trying to sound casual while taking the cash she offers and sorting through her change like it’s the most fascinating thing in the world.
“You look happy,” she says softly.
I glance up, meeting her gaze. There’s no judgment there—just warmth. The smile on her face is genuine, and I can’t help but mirror it back.
I am happy. Happier than I’ve been in a long time. And a lot of that has to do with Trent—and the effort he’s making to prove he’s serious about us.
That doesn’t mean I’ve completely let my guard down. For now, I still want to keep things between the two of us, just until we’re both sure this is real and lasting.
But in this moment—right here, with his eyes finding mine across the table and no one else the wiser—I’m soaking up every secret little moment we get to steal.