Here to Stay (Where Love Begins Book #2) (30 page)

“Gotta love a town where we mix fire barrels and pine trees in the same event.” Ava linked her arm through Autumn’s. Lucy walked on the other side.

“People are having a good time, aren’t they?”

“I’d say so. What’d you do? Spike the apple cider?” At Autumn’s gasp, Ava giggled. “Just kidding. They’re having a good time because this is an awesome festival. You did you a good job, you and . . .” She hesitated. “Blake.”

Autumn dropped Ava’s arm and turned to face her. “Oh my goodness. Did you just say something halfway nice about Blake Hunziker?”

Ava cocked her head. “Halfway? I was downright complimentary. Which is how I
know
you spiked the cider.”

“I just wish Blake could be here to see all this.”

Lucy jumped in. “He is here. With his dog.”

“I didn’t realize. . . .” Autumn’s fingers went to her hair, nonchalantly threading out wind-mussed tangles.

Ava cast her a wry grin. “I’d say something snarky, but you’d only deny it, so . . . never mind.”

Fun seeing Ava so carefree. The shift felt seismic. “Ave, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you were enjoying yourself here at home. Ever thinking about moving back?”

“You kidding? Coach Mac—he’s the head football coach at the college—let me stand on the sidelines for every game this fall. I’m practically an unofficial member of the coaching staff. Got a good thing going there.”

Autumn laughed at that. “I had no idea your football obsession would eventually turn into a dream job.”

“Some people have dreams their whole lives. Others discover their dreams along the way.” Ava shrugged. “C’mon, Lucy, let’s go get some more of that cider.”

Ava retreated with Lucy in tow. But before following, Autumn turned a full circle, gulping in the sight of Whisper Shore in celebration and Ava’s words still knocking around in her mind.

“Some people have dreams their whole lives. Others
discover their dreams along the way.”

So what happened when lifelong dreams collided with—her gaze landed on Blake over by Petey’s booth—new ones? She hugged her arms to herself and swallowed, suddenly tasting cold loneliness instead of her exhilaration from just seconds earlier.

Blake reached across the table and accepted a Styrofoam cup from Petey. Kevin stood obediently at his side, looking less a stray these days and more as if he’d belonged all along.
Maybe
a little like the man himself?

“He turned out mighty handsome, didn’t he?”

Autumn dipped her gaze. Mrs. Satterly looked up at her from where she leaned on a cane. “Oh, Mrs. Satterly—”

“Don’t even try to deny it, young lady. Eyesight’s as good as ever since my optometrist upped my prescription. That boy could pose on the cover of a magazine.”

He has.
“Or star in a production of
Seven Brides for Seven Brothers
.” The bottom of his plaid flannel shirt peeked out from underneath his coat, and he wore boots with his jeans. He obviously hadn’t shaved since his night spent at his dad’s bedside. Only needed a fur hat to complete the handsome lumberjack look.

She watched as Blake accepted a handful of marshmallows from Petey, then leaned down to let Kevin eat them out of his hand.

“Sweet of him bringing back all those photos of the farm.” Mrs. Satterly nodded, then turned back to Autumn. “Even blew one up and framed it.”

Autumn could believe it. That was exactly the sort of man Blake was—conscientious, caring, always going the cliché extra mile in a completely non-cliché way.

“Can I get you some hot chocolate, Mrs. Satterly?”

“I’ve already had three cups, my girl. No, you go talk to your man.”

“He’s not my . . . ”
Oh,
never mind.
First Ava, then Mrs. Satterly. She might as well go talk to Blake. If she didn’t, surely someone else would come along to prod her into it. Besides . . . she wanted to.

Just to see how his dad
’s doing. That’s all.

Right. She couldn’t even talk herself into believing her own lie.

With a steadying inhale, she moved forward until she’d reached him. She leaned over to pet Kevin first. Then, “Hey, Blake.” She straightened, waiting for him to turn.

As he did, there was no missing the spark of pleasure flickering in his eyes. “Hey, Red.” His gaze swept from her face down to her boot-covered feet and back up.

Kevin poked her leg with his nose, apparently hungry for more attention. She knelt and let him lick her cheek. “I didn’t think you would be able to make it.”

“Miss this? Dad’s doing fine. And I couldn’t have stayed away if I wanted to.” He took a sip of his hot chocolate. “And I didn’t, in case you’re wondering. Want to stay away, I mean.”

He’d slipped into rambling, and she had to work to hold back her own nervous giggle.
Don’t be ridiculous.
This is Blake. You’ve worked side by side with
the man for almost a month now.

But things were different under the moonlight. And a kiss they hadn’t talked about—but which had lingered in the back of her mind all day. When Kevin backed away and she rose,
she caught a whiff of Blake’s subtle cologne floating on the breeze. “So what’s up with your dad?”

“Came home this afternoon. He’s worn down, but Mom will make sure he rests. Probably force-feeding him fish right about now.”

Autumn wrinkled her nose. “Poor man.”

“Poor Mom. I have a feeling she’s in for a battle.” He took another drink of the cocoa, then set the cup down. “Dance with me?” He nodded to the wooden dance floor set up in the corner opposite the grand tree.

“But the program’s going to start soon. I should find—”

“Doesn’t start for more than an hour. There’s time.” Blake reached for her gloved hand. “Petey, can I leave Kev with you for a sec?”

At Petey’s nod, Blake tugged Autumn forward.

Over the speakers, Bing Crosby crooned “White Christmas” while couples moved in slow turns on the dance floor. Snowy boots shuffled and winter coats swished. Not exactly ballroom elegance, but the charming atmosphere mixed with the anticipation of the tree lighting filled the space with a merry aura.

“Did you know Bing Crosby originally sang this song in
Holiday Inn
before
White Christmas
?” Autumn asked as Blake pulled her onto the floor. She moved into his hold, one hand encased in his, the other on his shoulder.

“Nope. I’ll store that away, though, in my trove of fun facts courtesy of Autumn Kingsley.” They moved along perfectly in sync, melding into the dance with ease. “You dance well, Red.”

“Even in snow boots?” Her black pants were tucked into the white fur-trimmed boots, which matched the glowing white coat that traced her figure to her waist, then fanned to her knees. Though she’d doubted he would make the festival opening, she’d dressed carefully—just in case.

“Even in snow boots.”

They moved through the rest of the dance in silence until the last strains of Bing’s voice faded away. They were halfway through a second song when Blake spoke again. “Red?”

She looked up and for the briefest moment lost herself completely in Blake’s dark-eyed gaze. “Yes?” Her breathy word seemed to teeter in the crisp air.

His hand slid down her arm until their fingers laced. “Come on, I want to show you something.”

“But, the tree lighting—”

“They won’t start without us. We’re the coordinators, remember?”

He nudged her forward, stopping at Petey’s booth to get Kevin, then pointing to his Wrangler. “But where are we going?”

“Patience, pumpkin.”

She’d barely buckled her seat belt before Blake hit the accelerator, leaving the lights and sounds of the festival behind them. “This could be considered kidnapping, you know.”

He flashed her a crooked smile. “I don’t recall any real resistance, sweetheart. You could’ve called for help. You could’ve kicked me in the shin.”

“Could’ve. Probably should’ve.” And yet, there was no denying the delight puddling in her.

Didn’t take them long to reach his apparent destination—the baseball diamond on the edge of town? “There a winter ballgame I don’t know about?”

“The water tower, Red.” He pointed to the gray structure profiled by silver moonlight. “Surely you came here in high school.”

Uh, yeah.
Not really her thing. She shook her head.

“I thought every Whisper Shore kid at one point or another climbed the tower on a dare. Or . . . for something else.”

Oh, now he got polite. “Just say it, Blake. It’s the prime make-out spot in the county.”

His exaggerated gasp fueled her laughter. “It’s true. Some towns have theaters or scenic overlooks. We’ve got the water tower. But I promise, no funny business. I just want you to see the view from up there.”

He didn’t think she’d actually climb that thing, did he? “Yeah, not happening.”

“You owe me. I made you crepes last night.” He slid from the car but then ducked his head back in. “But if you’re scared—”

She stomped from the car. “I’m not scared.”

His head appeared over the car’s roof. “Prove it.”

“Fine.”

“Really?”

“I said I’d do it, didn’t I?”

She craned her neck to look at the thing once more. Her eyes trailed the narrow metal ladder that scaled the side of the tower to a small landing rimming the round structure at the top.

Blake’s long strides led the way to the tower, hesitance dragging her own steps.

Oh, why couldn’t she just tell the truth? That she’d rather roll around in a patch of poison ivy than climb that thing. Shave her head. Get her tongue pierced.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” Blake said into her ear. Irritating how well he could read her. “There’s nothing to it. Just don’t look down and you’ll be fine.”

“It’s going to be freezing up there. And with the snow, it could be a slippery climb. Is that really safe?” But Blake just kept walking. Autumn tipped her head back as they reached the tower’s base and he stepped back and waved her forward.
Stupid, stupid, stupid
. “Aren’t you going to go first?”

“I thought I’d go behind you. You know, just in case you need a little extra encouragement on the way up.”

He couldn’t go a minute without flashing that smug grin of his, could he. Her common sense told her to flee to the warmth of the car and climb in the back seat with Kevin.

But then she remembered Blake convincing her to sand-board. To spontaneously road trip with him to Illinois. To swing from a rope and land in a pile of hay. Every experience was one she knew she’d file away among her favorites. The man hadn’t steered her wrong yet.

So with a deep breath she placed her foot on the first rung, hoisted herself up, and began climbing. One rung down. Two. Three. This wasn’t so bad. Four. Five. Six. Halfway up she made the mistake of looking down.
Oh boy.

“Just keep going,” Blake called. “You’re doing great.”

“Tell me why I’m doing this again?”

“Because you trust your good friend Blake.”

“Why is my good friend Blake talking in third person?”

“Why is my good friend Autumn not climbing?”

She tore her gaze away from the ground and kept climbing. A cold wind teased her cheeks, and the metal rungs chilled her fingers. But the exertion of the climb, the nervous fear burning through her, countered the cold.

And the knowledge of Blake climbing below her provided just enough security to keep her moving. Finally she reached the top of the ladder and pulled herself over the final step and onto the metal landing. The ladder jerked with her movement. Seconds later, Blake’s form hauled over beside her.

“See? Easy-peasy.”

Autumn huddled against the tower while Blake plopped down, letting his legs dangle over the edge of the landing, hands on the lowest bar of the railing encasing them. Finally
Autumn moved from her crouched position to sit, legs crossed, and braved a look.

Though dusk shadowed the sky, the lights of the festival glowed from the center of town. Several blocks of dotted color and movement. And then off to the west, moonlight glittered against the lake. Stars peeked like distant pearls poking through the sky’s blue-gray canvas.

The view was startling, perfect.

Blake dropped his arms from the railing, a satisfied smile stretching his cheeks.

This
was perfect.

Almost enough to blot out the cold heaving past the fabric of her coat and clothes. Almost. She scooted forward, let one leg dangle, then the other, and huddled next to Blake. Eyes still on the landscape, he pulled her hand through his arm.

At least the cold was good for something.

They needed to get back.

But the festival had never seemed less important than in these past fifteen minutes. With Autumn tucked at his side, Blake could have stayed up there forever. Not the same as flying a plane, perhaps, but awfully close. The sky. The freedom. The peace.

The only thing blocking him from full contentedness—the remembrance of why he’d brought Autumn here. To tell her about Dominic. To spill the truth in a kinder way than a letter of rejection ever would. To break it gently.