McKenzie's Turn to Fall: A Holiday Romance

by Harlow James

  She smiles over at me in her seat. “Tell me about them.”

  I wistfully stare off into space every time I talk about their story. “They were high school sweethearts and got married on my mother’s eighteenth birthday. My dad joined the military straight out of high school and they didn’t want to wait, especially while she stayed here and waited for him to finish training. They were each other’s firsts and knew from a very young age they were meant to be together. When he got out of the Army after four years of being stationed in Texas, they moved back to Castle and started making a life and family together. They still look at each other as if they’re seeing one another for the first time. It’s a remarkable thing to witness—the kind of love you think only exists in the movies or romance novels, for example.”

  McKenzie smiles. “That’s incredible.”

  “Yup. My siblings and I look up to them wholeheartedly. I want what they have one day.” I sneak a glance at her as I cruise to a stop, waiting in the line to enter the parking lot.

  Her eyes are sparkling as she studies me. “Would you say you’re a bit of a romantic then, Dylan?”

  “Definitely. Like you said, love is something everyone yearns for. I just don’t have a problem admitting it.”

  Her lips spread into a blinding smile that pierces my heart. Damn, I want to kiss this woman so badly right now. Not yet, Dylan. Patience, boy.

  A car horn honks behind us, making both of us jump. I look forward and realize the line moved while I was staring at McKenzie. She laughs and the mood lightens again.

  After I pay for parking and we find a spot near the exit since I like to be able to get out of the parking lot with ease, we grab our coats and bundle up just outside my truck before we head toward the entrance.

  “Glad to see the chill hasn’t worsened yet,” I say as I wait for McKenzie to finish buttoning her coat.

  “Me too. I hate being cold. Come nightfall you know the temperature is going to drop though.”

  “Well, I can help keep you warm if you need me,” I offer in a smooth voice that makes her grin up at me. Cautiously I step toward her and place my hands on her hips.

  “I might just take you up on that,” she replies before pulling up the collar of her coat and wrapping her arms around herself.

  I pull her to my chest and take a deep breath, inhaling her floral scent and resting my chin on her head. “Thanks for letting me take you out, Mac.”

  “Thank you for asking me, Dylan,” she mumbles into my chest. She lifts her head again and our eyes meet. “You made it really hard to say no.”

  I smirk at her. “Yeah?”

  She pushes me away playfully, righting her coat again. “Yup. You are total book boyfriend material,” she teases and then starts to walk away from me.

  “I sense I should take that as a compliment,” I rush out as I try to catch up to her, reaching for her hand and encasing it with mine.

  Her gaze travels down to our hands and then back up to mine, shock registering on her face. But then she relaxes and smiles up at me again. “Yes, you definitely should.”

  We reach the entrance and wait in line to get in, standing in the line for people who bought their tickets in advance. I took the initiative to buy everything ahead of time so we could get in quickly, a detail I can sense McKenzie appreciates.

  “Thank you for paying,” she says as we walk through the gate decorated with orange and yellow flowers with pumpkins scattered all over the ground.

  “My pleasure.”

  “Excuse me? Would you two like your picture taken?” A young teenage girl asks, holding a camera in her hands. “It’s for the paper. We want pictures to include in the article for the event.”

  I turn to McKenzie to gauge her reaction and she just shrugs indifferently. “Sure.”

  “Awesome! Come over here,” she says, directing us in front of bales of hay. There are more pumpkins on this display, as well as a few scarecrows and sunflowers.

  She points to where she wants us to stand and then positions us so my arm is around McKenzie’s waist. Holding her close to my body right now makes my heart palpitate. It feels so fucking right having her next to me, in my arms, pressed up against my chest—it’s like my body is committing the feel of her to memory as we stand here. I take a moment to look down at her in awe, admiring her beauty, her presence, her strength—this woman that is everything I’ve been looking for. I might now know her very well yet, but sometimes you just get a feeling in your bones that tells you this is fate.

  I hear the clicking of the camera lens over the cheers and music wafting through the air as I continue to memorize McKenzie and the way she looks in this moment before I realize I should probably look at the camera too for a few shots. So I turn my head to face the photographer again as the clicks register a few more times.

  The girl taking our picture comes up to us and hands McKenzie a card with a QR code on it. “This is so you can look at your pictures online and purchase them if you want. Have a great time,” she says before running off and finding her next subjects.

  “Okay, where to first?” I ask as McKenzie stuffs the card in the pocket of her coat.

  “The only thing I got to partake in last year was the hot spiked cider from the Apple Juice Truck. It was one of the most delicious things I’ve ever had and that is the only thing I have to have today,” she declares adamantly. “If we do nothing else, I’m fine with that. But I need that drink,” she laughs.

  “Then let’s get you that drink.” I lead her over to the food truck area, the sound of hay crunching beneath our boots accompanying our steps. Children are screaming over to our left in the kids’ area where slides, bounce houses, and carnival games are all set up.

  “You said you had siblings earlier,” McKenzie says, emphasizing the s on siblings, as we walk hand in hand again.

  “Yeah …”

  “As in more than your sister I saw last weekend?”

  I nod. “Yeah, I have a younger brother too.”

  “How old are all of you?”

  I glance in her direction as I notice her biting her lip again. Seems she’s nervous for my answer. I know there’s an age difference between us, but that doesn’t matter to me in the slightest.

  “My sister is thirty-one. She had my nephew at twenty-one, hence why she’s a bit younger than you probably thought. And my brother is twenty-three.”

  “And you?” She adds.

  “I’m twenty-six,” I answer, waiting for her reaction. But all she does is stare at me and nod once.

  “Okay.”

  “Okay?”

  “Sorry. I just …” She shakes her head and then recovers. “I knew you were younger than me, just not that young.”

  “Your age doesn’t matter to me, McKenzie.”

  She huffs. “It might if I told you.”

  I pull her to a stop, spinning her so she faces me and can look in my eyes when I tell her this. “I don’t give a rat’s ass how old you are. I want to know McKenzie, not your date of birth or any other number that society has deemed is important—your credit score, your bank account balance, how much you make in a year. All of that doesn’t matter to me as much as who you are in here,” I say while pointing sternly to her chest. “Your eyes and your smile caught my attention, but your heart is what’s reeling me in, Mac. And there is no number to quantify that.”

  Her eyes bounce back and forth between mine as her chest rises and falls with each breath that seems like a struggle right now.

  “I’m thirty-four, Dylan. And up until five seconds ago, I thought that meant everything.”

  I swallow, watching her study me, feeling this energy swirling between us.

  “And now?”

  “Now…” she pauses, forcing me to hold my breath as I anticipate her next words. “Now I just want to kiss you,” she answers honestly, waiting for me to say something in return.

  “Mac,” I whisper, resting my forehead on hers, trying desperately to calm my racing heart. “I
want to kiss you so fucking bad. But not here. I don’t want our first kiss to be in a crowded space with people watching.” My hands squeeze her waist as I fight my body’s reaction to her right now, knowing I will kiss her later when it makes all the difference.

  “When I finally taste your lips, I want nothing but the sounds of our moans to ring in my ears. I want to memorize every sensation I’ll feel when I kiss you for the first time. So if you can wait, I promise to give you that later.”

  She releases the oxygen she was just holding and sighs in my arms, wrapping her hands around my neck. “You’re dangerous, Dylan.”

  “Right back at you, Mac… kind of like those cookies that Glenda makes.”

  She laughs, throwing her head back and relieving some of the tension from our moment.

  “Come on. I promised you some spiked cider, and I never break my promises.” Linking our fingers together again, I lead her to the truck as my heart starts to beat with all the possibilities I see for a future with this woman.

  Chapter 10

  McKenzie

  Seriously? Could he be more perfect? I mentally take note of his speech, knowing some form of that has to go in my book. Not only is Dylan bringing a fictional man to life in my mind, but he’s surprising me by showing me that there are men like him in reality too.

  “Gosh. The smells in the air are amazing,” I sing as we walk hand in hand towards the Apple Juice Truck. Kettle corn, sweet sugar and cinnamon covered nuts, and roasted meat flavors mix in the air, highlighting some of my favorite elements of fall. And for some reason, being here with Dylan makes the entire experience magnified. “I seriously love almost everything about fall, especially in a town like Castle.”

  “Yeah, that small town vibe brings everything out about the change in seasons that I love too. But question,” he says as we find the end of the line for my spiked cider, my mouth beginning to salivate just knowing I’m just a few feet from tasting this drink. “You said you love almost everything about fall. What’s the exception?”

  I give him a side-eye glance. “Well, it’s kind of considered a sin by some people, but I absolutely can’t stand pumpkin-spice-flavored anything.”

  His eyes goes wide. “Really? Not even pumpkin pie?”

  I hold one finger up in correction. “Okay, I admit I will have one slice of pumpkin pie at Thanksgiving, but it has to be smothered in whipped cream.”

  “Well, I agree with you on the whipped cream, but my mom actually makes this pumpkin crunch cake at Thanksgiving instead of pumpkin pie that will change your life.”

  “Oh, that sounds interesting.”

  “It’s not strong on the pumpkin spice, and has these layers of crunchy walnuts, brown sugar, and vanilla wafers baked into the cake. It’s pretty freaking amazing.” He beams as we moved forward in line. “But guess what, Mac?” He leans in, rubbing his nose on my cheek. My body becomes hyper aware of his skin touching mine and electricity courses down my neck. “I don’t typically like pumpkin-spice-flavored shit either.”

  My smile hurts my cheeks as I glance over at him and see him penetrating me with his blue eyes. The line moves ahead of us, breaking our stare, but not breaking through how strong my feelings for this guy are becoming with each morsel of information I discover about him. This date was supposed to be casual, a chance for me to do some research for my book, right? A way for me to force myself to get back out in the dating world.

  So why with each detail of him I take in do I feel like I’m falling into the abyss of my own love story?

  “So not to completely change the topic, but how did you end up being a butcher?” It’s a question I’ve been reminding myself to ask him today on our date.

  He starts to answer me, but it’s our turn to move to the window before he can start. Dylan orders two spiked apple ciders for us and an order of apple cider donuts with caramel dipping sauce. My mouth waters again as I watch him pay and I follow him to the side to wait for our drinks and food. The young woman working at the second window calls his name and hands us our order in record time.

  “Well, I got a job bagging groceries at The Castle Market after I graduated from high school while I went to community college in Becker,” he replies, referencing the small town just thirty minutes over from ours as he hands me my drink. The moment the liquid hits my tongue, I moan. He arches a brow as he watches me. “You better knock that off, Mac, if you want me to keep talking.”

  I chuckle, covering my mouth with my hand. “I’m sorry. Please continue.” Our feet start to carry us past the other trucks just as Dylan offers me a donut and I resist the urge to moan around a bite of that treat as well.

  “So, I got my associates degree, but just realized school wasn’t for me. I went mostly to appease my parents. Instead, I enrolled in the fire academy through the college and started my training. But I was on the fire paramedic team and one night we got called to the scene of an accident where a little kid died. I realized then I couldn’t handle the job and quit. My parents weren’t thrilled, but I went back to the grocery store and Marsha offered me a job again and let me work my way up to a butcher.”

  “Wow. I don’t think I would have been able to handle that either.”

  “Yeah. And then I realized I like working at the store a lot. Now I’m one of the lead butchers, I make decent money and have full benefits,” he says before taking a bite of a donut himself. “I’ve done well for myself and have a job I take pride in. I coach football on the side and help my dad out with his business if I need extra money or he needs my help.” He shrugs and takes a sip of his drink. “I like my simple life doing honest work. It suits me and makes me happy. I don’t feel married to a job. I feel like I have the capacity to build a life with someone as a partner, not as a man who spends more time working than with his family. I don’t want that.”

  Admiration blooms in my chest. The way Dylan describes his work makes me realize how much I value his outlook. One of the reasons I never dated much in my twenties is because I was constantly working, or married to my job as he described it. And now, I feel like I realized that same aspect about life that he has. Money isn’t everything. Having a life that is full of meaningful relationships, experiences, and love is really the goal. Having a partner to build a life with is really what I want and haven’t been able to find, mostly due to my own insecurities holding me back and a fear of putting myself out there.

  But Dylan’s presence actually pushes my insecurities to the side, allowing me to finally feel confident that a man is genuinely interested in me. The way he looks at me, gives me his attention, and flirts without seeming too forward—I’ve never experienced that with another man before. It’s enlightening and making me eager to see where this connection between us will lead.

  “This cider is amazing,” he says, breaking me from my internal thoughts as we continue to walk through the festival.

  “Told ya.”

  “I’m already getting a head change though, so I think one will be my limit. I need to be of sound mind to drive you home later,” he declares proudly.

  “I appreciate that. I can only have one too, mostly because there are far too many other temptations to partake in and I need to save room,” I say while patting my stomach.

  My gesture makes him laugh as he hands me another donut. “Like these?”

  “Exactly,” I reply while dipping the fried dough covered in cinnamon and sugar into the caramel sauce and bringing the treat to my mouth. I can feel the sugar and a few strings of caramel coating my lips as I chew my bite, so I dart my tongue out to clean it off as Dylan’s eyes lock onto my mouth.

  Heat rises in my body, watching the intensity with which he’s staring at me. The sexual tension between us is blazing, even more with every glance after I admitted I wanted to kiss him earlier.

  Dylan reaches out to cup my face, dragging his thumb across my bottom lip, removing the last morsels of my donut, and then sticks his thumb in his mouth and licks the sugar off.

  If
I had a bet on what I looked like right now, it would be a cartoon character with my jaw hitting the floor.

  I feel like I’m about to combust.

  “Thank you,” I finally manage to squeak out when I find my words and my voice and the two things connect in my brain.

  “No problem. Can’t have you walking around with sugar on your face. Although, I do enjoy when you have cookie crumbs on your lips in the store… Feeds into your nickname a little more,” he says with a wink.

  “Dear lord. I’m sure I look like a hot mess. That’s what you thought when you first saw me, didn’t you?”

  Dylan eyes me from the side as we come up to the vendor section of the festival where several easy-ups line the aisle, full of small business owners displaying their products for sale. He clasps my face in his strong hand, and stares intently in my eyes. “Definitely hot. Not a mess. Just one of the most beautiful women I’d ever seen, Mac.”

  I gulp down nerves this man’s touch ignites in my body. “You’re really laying it on thick today, huh?” I tease.

  The left corner of his lips tips up. “Just being honest. That is always the best policy, right?”

  All I can do is nod, conforming to the idea that Brooke pushing me out of my comfort zone is proving to be as dangerous to my emotions as I feared. I knew letting Dylan take me out would toy with my self-preservation I’ve been hell bent on maintaining so I don’t get hurt. But in just a few encounters, Dylan is making me believe in the possibility of more. And now being near him, listening to him speak, feeling his honesty through his words—well, it’s like I’m Alice falling down the rabbit hole on the path to love.

  “Come on, let’s check out what the good people of Castle came to sell at the festival this year.” He tosses the empty carboard tray from our donuts in the trash and then clasps my hand in his again, pulling me towards a stand that is full of hats.

  “I could totally see you in this one,” he says, reaching for a black hat that would have me channeling my inner J-Lo.