Page 52 of Fall Fake-Out

“Wade”—Pastor Bruce shakes his hand as we exit the chapel—“we really enjoyed having you join the choir this morning.”

I watch as Wade smoothly smiles back at the man. “I enjoyed it too.”

“Will we see you at choir practice this Thursday?” he asks as we continue down the steps.

“Unfortunately, the girls’ soccer team has a game that evening or else I would’ve loved to come.”

“Nice try. You don’t go to the soccer games,” I say to him as we walk away.

“What are you talking about? I go to every home game. Zoey is on the team, and she’s a student I’m a little concerned about.”

“Oh, she has bad grades?”

“No, she has a bad home life.” His shoulders lift, not in a braggy way, but in a way that tells me he's sincere. “I go to the games to support her so she knows at least one person in the stands is there for her.”

This kicks me in the heart. It’s not that I thought Wade was a bad principal; I just keep getting surprised by what a good one he is. Maybe I’ve been judging him based on his past reputation, even though I hate when people do that to me.

“So what did you think about the service today?” His grin is wide and proud.

“About your choir performance?”

“No, about the whole thing? Isn’t a small-town church service just the best thing in the world? Everybody knows everyone. It’s friendly and charming.”

A slow smile spreads across my lips.

He puffs out a soft laugh. “What?”

“Wade, I think you love Autumn Ridge more than you love anything else.”

“That’s probably true. Now I just need to convince you to love it here.”

I don’t know why my loving Autumn Ridge is such a big deal to him.

“Eh.” I scrunch my nose. “Tough to love a place when everybody here judges you.”

“They’re not judging. They’re interested in your life. There’s a big difference.”

“If that’s how you need to rationalize it so you can sleep better at night.”

“It’s not a rationalization. It’s true.”

While I don’t hold the same tender feelings for this town as he does, I can admit that today at church was nice.

“Hug me,” Wade commands from out of nowhere.

“Hug you?”

“Yeah.” He nods toward the parking lot. “Your mom’s watching us.”

“That’s so like her. But we can’t just hug in front of the church. That will look so forced.”

“Then I’ll hug you.”

I don’t see it coming. One second, there’s space between us, and the next, Wade’s arms are around me, solid and warm even through the layers of clothes. And he smells unfairly good, like smelling good was something Wade did on purpose. A subtle freshness, but not in a bottled way. More like soap and a trace of something darker underneath.

“It would help if you hugged me back.” His deep voice rumbles low by my ear, throwing me off a little, but I obey and lift my arms.

My hands land between his shoulders and don’t quite know where to settle. There’s more of him than I expected—solid muscles shifting under his shirt that I didn’t account for.