by Frankie Love
I am not sure what he’s going to think when he wakes up to find that I am gone. Is he going to call me? I don’t know what I am going to say to him when he does. If he does. Does he even have my number? I don’t think so. I’m not sure if I’m glad about that, or pissed that I might really have just blown it.
It started last night, after we hooked up for the first time – the tears that sprang into my eyes as he held me, as I realized how much I had been craving the kindness of someone’s touch like that. When I realized how much I wanted to stay there, and how badly I wanted to stay with him, too.
I had allowed myself to fall asleep there, on his chest, in his arms, inhaling the scent of the apple trees beyond us, but when I woke early this morning, I knew that I couldn’t stick around. I am nothing but a problem for him, more than he can handle. He’s grounded, rooted, secure in this life that he has made, and what am I? I am just some flighty girl who has been living out the back of a van for the last few years, with no idea what she wants to do with her life and no idea how to move forward with it and...
And I am nothing but trouble for a man like him. No matter how intense my feelings towards him happen to be right now.
I pull over halfway to my next destination to catch my breath, and wipe away the tears that have started to form again. It feels as though there is this fishing line being pulled tauter and tauter with every mile that I drive away from him, ready to snap at any moment, and I am scared shitless that it might pull me back to him before I am ready.
Or maybe I am scared of what happens if I don’t return, the way my gut is screaming at me to do right now.
Suddenly, my phone rings, and I answer it at once. Lucky’s voice comes down the line, and she sounds concerned.
"Hon, is that you?" she asks me.
"Yeah, it’s me..."
"Where the hell are you?" she demands. "You didn’t come back last night, you didn’t say anything to me. And then I came to the cider place this morning and your van was gone..."
"I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you," I tell her at once. "I just had to leave."
"Did something happen?” she asks. "Are you okay? Did Hank do something to you?”
"No, no, he... he was the perfect gentleman last night," I reply, and I can hear my voice cracking. Even thinking about him like that, realizing that he was nothing but sweet, is enough to rip open that wound inside of me again. I can’t believe that I have really just left behind a man who made me feel the way that he did – who made my mind and my body respond to him in ways that it never has before.
"Then why did you leave?" she asks. She sounds confused. I don’t blame her. To anyone else, it must look like downright insanity. Maybe it is.
"I just couldn’t do it," I confess to her. "It’s too much. I can’t... he’s too good for me, Lucky. He’s got his whole life together in a way that I don’t and I know that if I was to stay there I would just be pulling him down with me."
"What the hell are you talking about?" she exclaims. "Of course you’re good enough for him. Honey, listen to yourself–"
"It’s too much," I blurt out. "I’m sorry. I should have told you where I was going. I’m heading over to Ordor, on the other side of the valley. I’m not... I don’t know when I’ll be coming back."
And before she could say another word, I hang up the phone, because I know that there was nothing else that I could possibly bear to hear from her. I hate that I am doing this, hate that I am running from the one man who has ever made me feel like putting down roots – but I need time to think. And I know that someone as serious and stable and focused as Hank isn’t going to want to wait around for a flighty thing like me to make my mind up one way or another.
Chapter Nine
Hank
As soon as I lay eyes on Lucky, right there in the midst of the festival, I know that she is the best chance that I have to get my hands on the woman I have already fallen in love with.
And there is no way in hell that I am about to let her slip through my fingers.
When I woke up this morning to find Honey gone and the side of the bed where she had been sleeping empty and cold, I knew that something was off. There was no way that she would have just left, not like that, not after what we shared last night.
My mind drifted back to the tears that had been glistening in her eyes, the ones that she would not tell me the reason for, and I was sure, in that instant, that they had something to do with how swiftly she had gotten out of here. And I know, clearer than anything, that I am not going to be able to relax until I find out just what’s gotten under her skin.
I stride up to Lucky, and her eyes widen as soon as she sees me – I know that she might not be my biggest fan, but she is the best shot I have of getting to that girl again.
"Do you know where Honey is?” I ask. She hesitates before she answers. Maybe Honey told her that I came on too strong and that she doesn’t want anything else to do with me. I have no idea.
"Yes," she murmurs, and she eyes me for a moment. "Why do you want to know?”
"Because I need to find her," I tell her. She frowns at me. I know what she is thinking. Why can’t I just let her go? But I am not willing to let that girl get away, not when I know there is something so profound between us. Just being with her last night, lying there with her in my arms as she slept, it was the most comfortable I have felt in months – since I have had this house to myself, that’s for sure – and I am not willing to pass up the chance to feel it again.
"She’s scared," Lucky warns me. "She likes you, but she’s scared. It’s been a long time since she’s actually really dated anyone, so you need to be careful–"
"Good thing I’m not thinking about dating," I reply, and she raises her eyebrows at me. But I can see the glimmer of hope in her face, and I know that I am getting through to her.
"There’s a festival over in Ordor this weekend too," she explains. "That’s where she’s headed. She’ll probably be there by now..."
"Thank you," I tell her. That’s all I need to hear. I check in with the staff that I have on site to make sure that they can handle everything, and then I take off after her. I know it’s the only chance that I have to find her again, and I am not going to let her get away.
I climb in my truck and drive – I don’t often leave this small town of mine, so it takes me a while to navigate my way down there, and I have to keep my eyes pinned to the road every step of the way to make sure I don’t miss a vital turn and accidentally skip over her. If I miss her down in Ordor, I might not be able to find her again...
But finally, I make it to the town, and I follow the signs that lead into the festival where she must be selling her wares. I haven’t even tried one of her pies yet – it's a silly thing, but suddenly, it strikes me as so important.
The festival is already bustling with people by the time that I get there, and it makes finding her all the harder. But I know she is here, I know she is close, and I know what I have to say to her. I know what I need her to hear...
I navigate my way through the crowds until I arrive at a section of stalls selling all kinds of food. The smell of baked dough wafts through the air, and I follow the familiar scent of cinnamon and vanilla until I reach a van that I have seen before.
And there she is. Behind the counter. She’s serving a mom and her daughter, a big smile on her face as she puts on a little extra caramel sauce and hands it to the youngster. I pause for a moment, just hold back and smile. She is so beautiful, so radiant with life and energy, that it almost hurts to look at her dead on.
But then, her gaze lifts, and she sees me standing there. I approach her counter, and the rest of the crowd holds back for a moment, as though they can tell that this is important – too important for them to interrupt.
"What are you doing here?" she murmurs, but there is a smile on her face as she speaks. I know she is glad to see me.
"I couldn’t let you just leave like that," I reply, looking up at her over the stack
of fresh-baked pies in front of her.
"What are you saying to me, Hank?” she asks. I know what she needs to hear, and I am not willing to hold off on telling her.
"You said that you haven’t put down roots anywhere for a long time," I reply, not taking my eyes off of her. This woman – there is something about her that makes me feel safe. Like I’m doing the right thing, no matter what. I want to pull her into my arms and hold her tight and kiss her again, say all the things that need to be said without actually coming out with the words. But if she needs to hear them, I’ll give her everything that she’s asking for.
"But you can put them down with me," I say to her. "You can come back with me, to the cidery – you can make that your home. I know that you felt what I did last night, there’s no way that you could fake that – whatever is happening here, Honey, it’s meant to be."
She stares at me for a long moment. I can tell that she is torn, pulled in two different directions, not sure if she should pack it in and leave with me or stay right where she is and get security to escort me right on out.
Slowly, she takes off her apron, slips out the back door of her van, and stands before me. She is so close that I can smell her inimitable scent, see the soft curve in her lips. I want to pull her towards me and kiss her so hard that she can’t think of anything else, but I am not going to lay a finger on her until I know for sure that it is what she wants.
"You mean it?" she asks. I nod.
"Always."
She reaches out for my hand, her touch making my whole mind slide into a blank. She smiles at me.
"My mother did name me after an apple," she reasons, a playful tone to her voice. "I suppose it only makes sense that I spend the rest of my life in an orchard, now, doesn’t it?”
I scoop her up into my arms and kiss her without another word – there’s nothing else to say, everything that I wanted to communicate with her has been circling down to this moment. She laughs and hangs onto my shoulders, and plants a kiss on my cheek. There are tears in her eyes again, but this time, I can tell that they are happy ones.
"Guess that makes me the apple of your eye, huh?" she teases lightly, and I groan and plant a kiss on the tip of her nose.
"You’re lucky you’re so cute," I warn her. She circles her arms around my neck and gazes up at me.
"I’m sorry I left," she whispers. "I didn’t want you to... I haven’t felt this way about anyone before. Not in my entire life."
"Neither have I," I confess, as I run my fingers through her soft, curly hair. "But I couldn’t just let you go. Not after knowing that we had something so good."
"Agreed," she replies, and she shakes her head. "I haven’t put down roots in a long time, but..."
"It’s easier than you think," I assure her. "Especially when you have the best apples in the state to make your pies with."
"My pies!” she exclaims, and she looks over her shoulder at the van – a small queue of people has formed outside of it, all of them looking admiringly at the romantic declaration of love that we are sharing right now.
"Come on, put on an apron," she orders me, grabbing my hand and pulling me inside the van.
"What?" I ask.
"I need help serving these things!" she replies, and she thrusts an apron with pink frills around the bottom against my chest, raising her eyebrows pointedly. I know that she’s not going to take no for an answer, and I quickly tie it behind my back as she heads back to the counter.
"All right, who wants some fresh apple pie?" she asks, and there is a murmur of consensus amongst the crowd. I grin as I watch her start to chat with her next customer, and listen up for the orders that I can help with. I know I may not be what she pictured for an assistant, but I am determined to make myself as useful as I can.
And I’m determined to prove to her that she is able to rely on me for anything.
Epilogue
Honey
"Is it time?" Lucky asks me as she hovers in the doorway to my bedroom. I nod.
"I think so," I reply, and I turn to look at her and spread my arms wide. "What do you think? Appropriately bridal?"
"You look gorgeous," she assures me, and she hurries forward to pick a little twig out of my hair. "There, now you look perfect."
"Well, thanks," I laugh, and she kisses me on the cheek.
"I’m going to go talk to some of the guests," she tells me. "Give me a shout if you need anything, okay?”
"Will do," I reply, and I watch as she heads out. I turn back to the mirror, making sure that there are no other leaves or twigs clinging to me that might give away my and Hank’s last-minute apple picking trip into the orchard, but I’m all good.
And then, in the mirror, I see him. My husband. Well, nearly.
I turn to face him, and he lets out a long, low whistle when he sees me in my dress.
"Damn, girl," he remarks. "You look gorgeous."
"I thought you weren’t supposed to see me before the wedding," I giggle, and he shrugs as he pushes the door shut behind him and comes over to slide his hands around my waist.
"Couldn’t resist," he murmurs, and he nuzzles into my neck and I squirm against him. He’s going to be a distraction, I can feel it. Not that I mind much. Not one little bit, actually.
His family is outside, along with all of our friends and the staff from the cidery – it's a bigger wedding than I think either of us planned it to be, but I like it. I want the whole world to know just how crazy I am about this man, just how happy he makes me, just how alive with love and adoration and comfort I feel when he is close to me.
His mom and dad have welcomed me into the family as though I have always belonged in it. Sometimes, I still feel a stab of sadness, knowing that my mom will never get to meet the man I’m going to spend my life with, but I know that she would have loved him. And that’s enough to convince me that I am doing the right thing.
There’s something else I need to tell him, too, something that he needs to hear – I had been planning on keeping it secret till after the ceremony, but now that he’s here, I can’t think of a more perfect moment to share it with him.
"Hank," I murmur to him, and he pulls back, seeming to sense the seriousness in my voice.
"What is it?” he asks. "Is everything okay?"
I don’t know how to put it into words, so I just reach for his hand and guide it down to my belly – down to where our firstborn is growing, blooming like an apple blossom on a tree in spring. He takes a moment to work out what I am getting at, but when he does, a smile spreads over his face and his eyes light up.
"Are you telling me...?"
"Yeah, I’m telling you," I laugh, and he tosses his arms around me and scoops me up off the ground at once, a delighted laugh escaping his lips.
"I can’t believe it," he says once he puts me back down on the ground – he drops down to his knees and plants a kiss on my belly through the flowy fabric of the dress I’ve chosen for this day.
"How long till I get to meet them?" he asks.
"Her," I correct him. "I mean, I don’t know yet, but I feel like it’s a her. And about eight months, I think. Not long at all."
He smiles, gazes up at me for a moment, then rises to his feet again.
"You know what we’ll call her?" he asks me. I cock my head to the side.
"What?"
"Luna," he replies. "After the rare breed of apple. Because she’s going to be the most special thing that’s ever come to life in this place."
I beam back at him, and plant a kiss on the corner of his mouth once more. His sweetness makes my heart ache sometimes, but I know that it’s the best kind of ache possible.
"I love you," I murmur to him.
"I love you, too," he replies. "Now. You want to go get married?"
"I really do," I laugh, and he slips his hand into mine and leads me towards the door.
"Then let’s do it," he tells me. And I follow him outside, where the rest of our lives are about to begin – and where the home
that I have found will always be waiting for me.
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About the Author
Frankie Love writes filthy-sweet stories about bad boys and mountain men.
As a thirty-something mom who is ridiculously in love with her own bearded hottie, she believes in love-at-first-sight and happily-ever-afters.
She also believes in the power of a quickie.
Join Frankie Love’s Mailing List for a free book … plus never miss a new release:
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