Page 21 of Pick Me This Time

10

DAPHNE

The fall festival was starting soon and I was so excited that I couldn’t stop smiling. I loved autumn. Just everything about it.

Pumpkin spice and pies. The warm colors on the trees. Bundling up in front of fires at night. Spending the days helping out at the bakery and hearing children laugh with glee at each other’s efforts at pumpkin carving.

It was absolutely my favorite time of year, but it was also during this brief window of time that Northfield Farms made the money needed to sustain it for the rest of the year. The income from the bakery helped it get by, and so did the produce Mr. North sold, but the Festival was the big money spinner for this farm.

We were going to be completely overrun and insanely busy at the bakery, so this weekend, I was taking some time off to rest before the rush began. Eric had organized a trip to his cabin and I was packing before my last shift for the week started.

Rachel was due in a month, and since she and Jake were heading out there with us, I glanced at the goodies in my bag and considered what else I might need. While the guys fished, I planned on bringing some treats and pampering her when we got up there.

On top of my clothes and toiletries, I had a foot scrub, face masks, an instant version of her favorite mocha lattes, some snacks, and juices that were named after popular cocktails. Looking around my room, I strode over to my dresser and added a couple colors of nail polish and a manicure kit to my stash.

With that done, I zipped up my bag and checked my watch. The bakery was closed today, but I was going in for a few hours to help with the preparations for the Festival. I needed to give the coffee machines a good clean, restock the supplies at the counter and the cups, and do a few other things that would help us get off to an easier start next week.

When I arrived at the bakery, I frowned when I saw Eric’s old truck parked outside. There was no mistaking it, though. It was a faded blue with a few dents in the door and a yellow tailgate I’d helped my brother spray myself.

It was also the truck he’d loaned to Sterling for the time he was in town. As I parked beside it, I spotted the man himself, hauling pumpkins into the storage room at the back of the bakery.

For a change, he wasn’t dressed in slacks and a button-down but in shorts and what appeared to be an old T-shirt. In fact, as I squinted at the writing on it, I realized I remembered it from back in the day. It was minty green with the words, “I’m not a gynecologist, but I’ll take a look,” printed across his chest.

I smiled, a lot less embarrassed of the words now than I had been back in high school. Seeing that shirt on him set me a little bit more at ease. With his black hair not perfectly styled and dirt on his arms from hauling the pumpkins, he looked a lot more like the boy I used to know.

Climbing out of the truck, I walked to the storage room and grinned as I called in. “Want any help?”

Sterling had just turned to pick up another pumpkin, and he started at the sound of my voice, dropping it like a hot potato. My eyes widened as it smashed on the ground, splattering my sneakers in fibers, chunks, and seeds.

“Oh, crap. I’m so sorry.” I quickly closed the distance between us and sank to my knees to help him clean it up.

Unfortunately, he dropped down too, and when he bent forward, our heads banged together. Pain shot through me, my forehead throbbing, and I moaned, my hand shooting up to rub it. Sterling’s arms flew out to steady me, his hands big and warm on my biceps.

My breath caught as my gaze jerked up to meet his, his face only inches away from my own. Pain still radiated from my forehead, but the warmth of his hands and the worry in those dark eyes soothed me, even making a smile spread on my lips.

His brow furrowed, and one of his hands came up to take my chin between his thumb and index finger. For a moment, my heart raced and I thought he was going to kiss me, but then he used his grip on my chin to turn my head from side to side instead, apparently inspecting me for damage.

“Are you okay?” he murmured gruffly, those eyes sweeping across my features as if searching for the slightest hint of injury. “I’m so sorry.”

“I’m fine.” I laughed, pulling back a little before I noticed he certainly wasn’t laughing.

Sitting back on his knees, he exhaled, those brown eyes settling firmly on mine while his eyebrows remained pinched. “Are you sure you’re alright? That blow nearly broke my jaw. It was hard. You don’t need to pretend it wasn’t.”

I chuckled, my head shaking as I stared into his eyes. Strangely, the worry there seemed incredibly real, like he genuinely cared. “I’m fine. Really. It was hard. I’m not pretending it wasn’t. It’s just really not that bad. It’s not like you broke my nose. Why are you so serious all the time?”

He shrugged. “It’s just who I am.”

“Is it?” I asked, unable to look away from him. “You weren’t always like this. Back in high school, I remember you being all about the jokes and banter. Nothing could bring you down.”

One of his eyebrows arched. “How would you know? You’re three years younger than me. We didn’t have any classes together and you and I never hung out.”

“I know.” I grinned. “I’m perceptive, though. You also basically lived at my house most of my life, so there’s that.”

A ghost of a smile just barely touched the corners of his lips, but it was definitely there. Even his eyes suddenly seemed lighter. “I guess that’s true.”

“Exactly,” I murmured, finally going back to sweeping the pumpkin pieces into my hands. “It must be exhausting being so serious all the time when that’s not who you really are.”

“Maybe the joking and banter wasn’t who I really am. Maybe this is.” He was focused on the pumpkin now, scraping huge chunks into his hands and then lifting up on his knees to drop them in the garbage can against the wall. “Are you absolutely sure you’re okay?”