Chapter 11
ELEVEN
Riley
Riley didn't sleep.
She lay in bed staring at the ceiling, replaying the night on an endless loop. Grant pulling her to her feet and kissing her in front of everyone. The way he'd said It's real, Brad like he meant every word.
But mostly, she replayed the parking lot.
His hands in her hair. Her back against the car. The way he'd kissed her like he was drowning and she was air. The heat of his body pressed against hers despite the cold. His hands sliding under her coat, finding bare skin, making her gasp.
You weren't lying about being a better kisser.
I've had ten years to think about kissing you again. Had to make it count.
Riley pressed her hands to her face, which was still warm hours later. They'd gotten completely carried away against her car—hands everywhere, breathless and wanting, only the cold and common sense making them finally stop.
And now she had no idea what happened next.
Her phone buzzed on the nightstand.
Grant: You awake?
Riley's heart jumped.
Riley: Yeah. Can't sleep.
Grant: Me too. Can't stop thinking about tonight.
Riley: The kiss?
Grant: The kiss. Your face after. The way you looked at me when we left.
Riley bit her lip, heat pooling low in her stomach.
Riley: How did I look at you?
Grant: Like you wanted me to do it again.
Riley: I did. I do.
A pause.
Grant: Come by tomorrow morning? I know the farm's going to be crazy, but I need to see you.
Riley: What time?
Grant: Whenever you wake up. I'll be here.
Riley: Okay.
Grant: Riley?
Riley: Yeah?
Grant: The parking lot kiss wasn't for show.
Riley stared at the message, her pulse racing.
Riley: I know.
Grant: Just wanted to make sure we're on the same page.
Riley: We are. Goodnight, Grant.
Grant: Night.
Riley set her phone down and closed her eyes but sleep still wouldn't come.
By the time Riley pulled into the farm the next morning, the place was already chaos.
Cars lined the driveway. Families wandered through the rows of trees. Thomas was at the register helping customers, and Grant was in the lot with a chainsaw, cutting down a massive Fraser fir for a couple with three kids.
Riley parked and climbed out, clutching his flannel—the one he'd given her weeks ago that she kept forgetting to return. Or maybe not forgetting. Maybe keeping.
Grant looked up, saw her, and his whole face transformed. He said something to the couple, set down the chainsaw, and jogged over.
"Hey," he said, slightly breathless.
"Hey. Busy morning?"
"Insane. It's four days till Christmas—everyone's panicking." His eyes dropped to the flannel in her arms. "You bringing that back?"
"I thought I should."
"Keep it."
"Grant—"
"I'm serious. It looks better on you anyway."
Riley's face heated. "That's not—"
"Grant! Thomas called from across the lot. "Need you for the Johnsons!"
Grant grimaced. "Give me five minutes."
But five minutes turned into twenty, then forty. Every time he tried to break away, another customer needed help, another tree needed cutting, another family needed directions.
Riley ended up in the farmhouse kitchen with a cup of coffee, watching through the window as Grant worked. He kept glancing toward the house, clearly frustrated, and every time their eyes met, Riley felt it in her chest.
Finally, during a brief lull, he jogged back inside.
"I'm so sorry," he said, slightly out of breath. "This is not how I wanted this morning to go."
"It's fine. You're working."
"I know, but after last night I really wanted to—" He stopped, running a hand through his hair. "I wanted to talk. About the kiss."
Riley set down her coffee. "What about it?"
Grant paused like he was thinking. "Was it really okay? Me doing that in front of everyone? I thought about it, and it was kind of…well, we didn’t plan it. And I didn’t want you to be uncomfortable about it."
"Grant, I kissed you back. Pretty enthusiastically." Riley laughed. She assumed they’d already covered this.
His ears went red. "You did."
"So yeah. It was more than okay."
"Good. Because I've been thinking about doing it again all morning."
Riley stepped closer. "Yeah?"
"Yeah." His hands found her waist. "Like right now."
"Your dad's fifty feet away."
"I know."
"And there are customers everywhere."
"I know that too."
"So we probably shouldn't—"
Grant kissed her anyway—quick and hard and full of promise. When he pulled back, Riley was dizzy.
"Tonight," he said. "Come back tonight. After we close. Seven?"
"You sure?"
"I've never been more sure of anything."
"Grant!" Another customer calling.
He groaned. "I have to—"
"Go. Work. I'll see you tonight."
"Seven," he said again, backing toward the door. "Don't forget."
"I won't."
He flashed her one more smile—heated and full of promise—then disappeared back into the chaos.
Riley stood in the empty kitchen, her lips still tingling, her heart racing.
Tonight.
Riley had exactly zero focus for the rest of the day.
She tried to be productive—wrapped Christmas presents, helped her mom with dinner prep, answered a couple of work emails even though she was supposed to be on vacation.
But her mind kept drifting back to Grant.
That kiss. The way he'd looked at her. The rough edge in his voice when he'd said tonight.
By noon, she was crawling out of her skin.
Her phone buzzed with the group chat.
Hannah: Ladies lunch at the diner? I need to get out of this house before I murder my mother-in-law.
Emily: YES. I'll be there in 20.
Jenna: I'm in. Riley?
Riley: Definitely.
An hour later, Riley slid into the booth across from Hannah and Emily, with Jenna arriving moments after.
"Okay," Hannah said the second they'd ordered. "We need to talk about last night."
Riley's stomach flipped. "What about it?"
"What about it?" Emily's eyes went wide. "Riley. That kiss."
"Oh my god, it was so hot," Jenna said. "Grant just shut Brad down completely."
"Brad's always been an ass," Hannah added. "But watching Grant stake his claim like that?" She fanned herself. "I didn't know he had it in him."
Riley felt her face go hot. "It wasn't—we didn't plan that."
"I should hope not. That was pure instinct." Emily leaned forward. "How are you feeling about everything? You two getting back together, I mean."
"It's—" Riley searched for words. "It's good. Really good."
"You look happy," Hannah said, her voice gentle. "Like, genuinely happy. I haven't seen you like this in years."
"I am happy."
"Good. You deserve it." Jenna squeezed her hand. "And Grant deserves it too. You two are good together."
"We're taking it slow," Riley said, even though slow was the last word she'd use for whatever was happening between them.
"Mm-hmm." Emily's smile was knowing. "The way he was looking at you last night? That didn't look slow."
"Or the way you were looking at him," Hannah added. "You two have that whole 'can't keep our hands off each other' vibe."
Riley buried her face in her hands. "Is it that obvious?"
"Painfully," Hannah said.
“Very,” Emily replied with a laugh at the same time.
“Incredibly,” Jenna added. "But it's cute!" she said quickly. "We're all living vicariously through you. The rest of us are married with kids and routines. You two are in the honeymoon phase. It's fun to watch."
"Especially because we all knew you'd end up back together eventually," Emily said.
Riley's heart squeezed. "You did?"
"Please. You two were endgame from the start. Everyone knew it." Hannah's expression turned serious. "Are you thinking about staying? In Pine Valley?"
The question surprised Riley more than she expected. "I don't know. Maybe. My job—"
"Your job makes you miserable," Hannah said bluntly. "You know it does."
"It's complicated."
"It always is. But Riley?" Hannah reached across the table. "Don't let fear make your decisions for you. If you want to stay, stay. If you want to make it work with Grant, make it work. Life's too short for 'what ifs.'"
Riley's throat went tight. "When did you get so wise?"
"Marriage and two kids. It ages you." Hannah grinned. "But seriously. We're all rooting for you. Whatever you decide."
The rest of lunch was lighter—gossip about people they'd gone to high school with, stories about Hannah's kids, plans for New Year's Eve. But Hannah's words stuck with Riley long after they'd paid the check and said goodbye.
Don't let fear make your decisions.
Was that what she was doing? Letting fear keep her from admitting what she really wanted?
By the time six-thirty rolled around, Riley was a mess of nerves and anticipation.
She changed her outfit three times, finally settling on jeans and a soft sweater. Nothing fancy. Just…her.
The drive to the farm felt both too long and too short. By the time she pulled into the driveway—now empty of customers, the lot quiet—her hands were shaking.
Grant was waiting on the porch, and the look on his face when he saw her made Riley's breath catch.
"Hey," she said, climbing out of the car.
"Hey." He closed the distance between them, his hands finding her waist like they belonged there. "You came."
"You asked me to."
"I know, but I thought maybe you'd change your mind. Realize this was a bad idea."
Riley's hands slid up his chest. "Is it a bad idea?"
"Probably."
"Then why does it feel so right?"
Grant's eyes darkened. "Come inside. It's cold."
"Where's your dad?"
"Dinner in town with some friends. He won't be back till late."
"So we're alone."
"Very alone."
They stared at each other, the tension thick enough to cut.
"Riley," Grant said, his voice rough. "If you want to stop, if you want to slow down, you need to tell me now. Because once we go inside—"
"I don't want to stop."
"You're sure?"
"I'm sure. Are you?"
"I've never been more sure of anything."
He kissed her then—deep and slow and full of want. When they finally pulled apart, both breathing hard, Riley was shaking.
"Inside," she whispered. "Now."
They made it as far as the kitchen before Grant had her pressed against the counter, his mouth on her neck, his hands sliding under her sweater.
"Barn. More private."
They grabbed their coats and practically ran across the yard, hands linked, both of them grinning like idiots despite the cold.
Inside the barn, Grant locked the door and turned on the space heater. The loft was warmer, more private should his dad come home early, and when Grant pulled her close again, Riley forgot how to think.
They kissed until her lips were swollen and his hands were in her hair and neither of them could breathe properly. When Grant's hands found the hem of her sweater, Riley pulled back just enough to look at him.
"You're sure about this?" she asked.
"Are you?"
"I asked you first."
"I’m positive." His thumb traced her jaw, his eyes dark with want. "You?"
"Same."
Riley pulled his face down to hers. "Then stop talking and take off your shirt."
His laugh was rough and breathless, but he obeyed. Riley's hands mapped the planes of his chest, relearning the body she'd once known so well. They were on the couch, shirts discarded, Riley's lips running down Grant's chest, when everything went dark.
And cold.
The space heater's hum cut out. The barn went completely black—no lights anywhere, not even from the main floor below.
"What—" Riley started.
"Power's out." Grant's voice came from somewhere above her in the darkness.
"The whole barn?"
"Sounds like it. Probably the whole property." Grant shifted, and Riley heard him fumbling for his phone. The screen lit up his face, casting strange shadows. "Yeah. Everything's dark. Main barn, the shop, the lot lights."
Riley sat up, already feeling the cold seeping in. "Can you fix it tonight?"
"I have to. Can't run the lot tomorrow without power. The register, the card reader, the lights for the lot—" He stopped, running a hand through his hair. "Shit."
"That's bad."
"That's really bad." Grant looked at her, his face half-lit by his phone screen. "I'm sorry. I need to check the main breaker, see if it's just us or the whole grid."
Riley laughed despite her frustration. "Our timing is spectacular."
"It really is."
Riley found her sweater and pulled it back on. The barn was already getting noticeably colder without the heater. "Do you need help?"
"No, I—" Grant stopped, then pulled her close, kissing her forehead. "Thank you. But you should go home before it gets too cold in here. And before the driveway gets icy because the lot lights are out."
Riley wanted to argue, wanted to stay, but she could already see her breath in the air. "You sure?"
"I'm sure."
They climbed down the ladder carefully in the darkness, Grant's phone providing just enough light. At her car, they stood in the cold, neither quite ready to say goodnight.
"Well," Riley said finally. "Maybe that was for the best."
"The power going out?"
"Yeah. We were getting pretty carried away."
"We were." Grant's hand found her waist. "You really think it was for the best?"
"No," Riley admitted. "Not even a little bit."
"Me either."
"But maybe we needed to slow down. Think about what we're doing."
Grant's laugh was rough. "I've thought about nothing else."
"Grant—"
"I know. I know." He kissed her forehead. "You should go before you freeze."
"Yeah." Riley didn't move. "Thanks for tonight. Even with the interruptions."
"Anytime."
"I'll see you around?"
"Tomorrow morning. Coffee. If you want."
Riley smiled despite her frustration. "I want."
She drove home with her body still humming with want and her mind spinning with everything that almost happened.
When she got home, her phone buzzed.
Grant: Power's back on. Tripped breaker.
Riley: That's good.
Grant: Yeah. Fixed now.
Riley: Good timing on it breaking then.
Grant: Was it though?
Riley stared at the message, her heart racing.
Riley: I don't know. Maybe.
Grant: Riley.
Riley: Yeah?
Grant: I'm not sorry it almost happened.
Riley: Me either.
Grant: Get some sleep.
Riley: You too.
Grant: Not likely. But I'll try.
Riley fell asleep that night thinking about Grant's hands, his mouth, the way he'd looked at her in the darkness before the power cut out.
And wondering what would happen when she saw him tomorrow.