Page 20 of Deck the Hauls

“Okay,” Jake said. “Thanks for hearing me out. I’m here if you ever need me.”

But you weren’t there for me three years ago.

I turned to look for apples before the tears began to fall.

CHAPTER EIGHT

EMILY

“Austin, I need to talk to you.” My heart thumped in my chest as I stood on the dirt path, my body heavy with worry over the future of the farm.

“Of course. What’s wrong?” Austin, dressed in a firefighters outfit and standing next to a firetruck, stared at me with concern.

Tears welled in my eyes. I tried blinking them away.

“Hey!” Austin stepped forward, reaching out and rubbing my upper arm. “What is it?”

“Our truck broke down. It’ll cost thousands to repair. I don’t have that sort of money. Without the truck, we won’t be able to hand deliver Christmas trees to all our local customers.” I swiped my eyes with the back of my hand and sniffed.

“We’ll work something out.” Austin frowned. “We could run a fundraiser. Maybe a talent show or a baking competition?”

I paused for a moment, my shoulders relaxing. “You know, that isn’t a bad idea. The people of Maple Falls do love a competition. Perhaps we could do a gingerbread cookie contest? I adore gingerbread cookies, so I’d be more than happy to judge.”

Austin chuckled. “Sounds like a win-win situation. Raising money for the farm and eating delicious food in the process. Let’s print off some posters and get the word out.”

“Thank you. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” I smiled.

“And cut!” Charles yelled. “Excellent work, you two.”

My whole body buzzed. For the past few minutes I’d been Molly, experiencing her emotions as if they were mine. This is why I act.

The adrenaline rushing through my body almost overpowered the dull ache in my chest from the devastation I’d just experienced as Molly.

Austin removed the heavy firefighters jacket and placed his hand on the small of my back. I jumped away, struggling to control the involuntary shudder that vibrated through my body. Phillip used to do that.

Austin furrowed his brow.

Shit. I was clearly being overly sensitive.

“Sorry, I’m just a little jumpy after that scene.”

“Those tears were amazing,” Austin said as we walked toward the trailers. “I’ve never been able to cry on demand.”

“Thank you.” I waved to Mihira, who played my best friend, as she headed toward the craft services table. “I don’t always find it easy, but for some reason it worked this afternoon.”

“How are you liking being in a HolLove movie?” Austin asked, as we came to a stop outside our trailers. A trio of crew members passed by carrying lighting equipment.

“It’s certainly different. The pace is a lot faster and the last-minute script changes add to the challenge,” I said. “But I’m honestly just excited to be working again. Do you like it, doing so many HolLove movies?”

Austin gave a half‑smile. “Look, it’s not my preferred role. I always dreamed I’d do action movies and thrillers—be the next Tom Cruise. But I can’t complain. I make a living from acting, which is more than a lot of actors can say.” He kicked a stone down the path outside our trailers.

“Hey,” he said, straightening, “do you feel like coming into my trailer for a drink? We can talk about all the things that led us to scraping the bottom of the barrel with HolLove. All the failed auditions and roles we just missed out on.”

“Oh, uh.” I eyed my trailer door. After the amazing scene I’d just had, the last thing I felt like doing was dwelling on the negatives with Austin. “As fun as that sounds, I really need to rest before the next scene. I’ll see you there?”

He shrugged and turned away. Poor Austin. He clearly wasn’t as satisfied with HolLove as I’d assumed. Perhaps I should have been more willing to offer a sympathetic ear.

I hopped up my trailer steps, wriggled out of Molly’s navy blue coat and pulled my phone out of the drawer. I’d left it in the trailer today, not wanting to be distracted by any more calls or texts.