Regardless of her motives, Avery was glad she’d decided to attend. Storybook Barn was something magical when everything came together. Small twinkle lights and white, gauzy fabric made the old-fashioned barn seem elegant and romantic. It was the perfect combination of every trendy wedding blog Avery had run across in the last ten years. She said as much to Lily, who was somehow balancing being a guest and coordinator. There must have been some sort of emergency, because Avery spotted Mandy’s brother, Josh, having an animated conversation with Lily before the couple’s first dance.
As Mandy and Dr. Pike cut the cake after the dance, Avery ducked outside to avoid the inevitable bouquet toss. The last thing she wanted was to be paraded in front of everyone with every other single woman. Ugh.
Avery stared out over the rolling hills dotted with round hay bales, admiring the view of the farm as muted music played over the muffled voice of the DJ in the barn behind her. The night was chilly, though, and she rubbed her bare arms, wishing she’d thought to grab her shawl from the back of her chair. Silky, warm fabric was laid across her shoulders and she caught the familiar scent of lemon.
“Beautiful wedding, wasn’t it?” From behind her right shoulder, Hawthorne’s quiet voice flooded her with warmth down to her toes, exposed in black peep-toe heels. Avery pulled his suit jacket tighter and nodded, glancing over her shoulder to drink in a glimpse of him. Somehow, she hadn’t seen him all night. Not that she’d been searching the crowd or anything.
Working at the farm in flannel shirts and jeans, Hawthorne was handsome. In a casual, collared shirt at the bar, he was downright distracting. Tonight, in a dress shirt and tie, clean-shaved and perfectly put-together? Hawthorne was positively jaw-dropping, and she felt her heart rate accelerate at the sight of him.
Afraid to be caught staring, Avery turned back to the fields and searched for something to say, anything to fracture the moment. “Quite the view, isn’t it?” Seriously? That was the best she could come up with? He lived here, for crying out loud!
She felt him step closer, his breath on her neck. “Yes, you really are quite stunning,” he replied.
A shiver crawled up Avery’s spine and she resisted the urge to squirm in response to it. She closed her eyes and inhaled the tangy lemon scent of him, momentarily back in the hallway, her inhibitions weakened.
“Avery—” he started and her breath hitched, “It’s good to see you.” Hawthorne cleared his throat and added, “Dance with me?”
She turned then, needing to see his eyes. Barely six inches stood between them; Avery looked up at him. Her gaze traced his features, falling from his dark eyes, along his jawline and landing on his lips. As she watched they twitched, and she looked back up with a blink. What would he do if she asked him to kiss her?
Hawthorne closed his eyes with a groan, and for a moment, Avery wondered if she’d spoken her last thought out loud. Hawthorne shifted his weight and laid a palm on her cheek. Instinctively, she pressed into the warmth of his skin.
Accepting his earlier invitation, she pulled her hands from the pockets of his suit jacket and placed one on his shoulder and joined the other with his, immediately missing the feel of his skin on her cheek. They danced slowly to the music playing inside, the sound muffled by the closed barn doors. Unable to resist, she inhaled deeply near his neck.
“What’s with the lemon?” she asked, curiously.
He looked down with a blush and her heart melted. “I, um, stole it from Poppy after you…” he cleared his throat again. “In the hallway,” he clarified, “you seemed to like it.”
Avery hummed noncommittally. Hawthorne was right, but she wasn’t going to embarrass herself by admitting how happy it made her that he’d changed his soap to appeal to her. His hand rested gently on her waist, holding her close, burning her skin even through the jacket, dress, and the awful spandex contraption she’d squeezed into.
She looked up at him, his jawline just beyond the reach of her lips. Then, he looked down at her, creating precious few inches between them to meet her eyes. The music faded as her pulse thundered in her ears and their gentle swaying stopped altogether. Her eyes drifted closed and she lifted her face to his, a silent invitation.
The warm whisper of his lips on her cheek brought every ounce of the building anticipation crashing over her. Disappointment flared and she stepped back, needing air. Had she read the signals wrong?
Her eyes met his. The desire she saw there left her stomach fluttering like the tiny bubbles from champagne toast. Definitely reading the right signals.
“Tell me it’s different now,” she pleaded in a whisper. Being this close to him was muddling her resolve. Avery wanted him to convince her that he was ready, and then she wanted him to kiss her.
He met her gaze with apologetic eyes. “I’m still working on it, Avery.” Logically, she knew it had only been a few weeks, and that wasn’t enough time. Daisy may insist that something was happening with Hawthorne, but Avery couldn’t be sure. But that didn’t change the very illogical portion of her brain that was crying out for her to ignore her better judgement.
Looking down, Hawthorne rubbed a hand through his hair, He glanced back up at her, with pleading eyes. “Just don’t give up on me yet, okay?”
10
Thanksgiving was only a few weeks away now and Avery considered flying out to visit her parents in Colorado, but Freedom would be busy with the influx of winter tourists for ski season. Freedom Ridge Resort was a favorite winter destination of people from all over the country, and her parents loved the small, tourist town. Avery, on the other hand, had been more than ready to leave after graduation.
Instead, Avery accepted the invitation to have Thanksgiving at Bloom’s Farm. She hadn’t heard much from Hawthorne since the wedding. The lack of communication hadn’t stopped her from thinking about him, though; almost incessantly. With every text message from Daisy, Avery stopped herself from asking about him. If Hawthorne was ready to commit and still interested in her, surely he would reach out. It had been two months since they met at Shooter’s.
Hawthorne said he wasn’t going anywhere, but maybe he’d changed his mind. Still, she was determined not to pin her hopes on a leopard changing his spots. When Edward from the chemistry department asked her again to join him for dinner, she agreed.
Which is how she found herself wanting to stab herself in the eye with a salad fork, listening to Edward drone on about the dangers of natural gas drilling.
The server cleared her salad plate, taking the potential rescue weapon with him, and Avery debated the merits of using a butter knife instead. “Can I get you another glass of wine, ma’am?”
Edward responded for her, “That would be grand, thank you.” He drew out the words, his pretentious tone making Avery want to roll her eyes.
As the server reached for the empty wineglass, Avery covered the rim with her hand. “No, thank you. I’ll just take a glass of water.” One glass was more than enough, or she’d be asleep before the main course arrived. She’d agreed to go out with Edward because he was cute, in a bookworm sort of way, and he’d always been personable and kind enough, if a little dry.
Sitting at a quiet table in the fanciest restaurant in Terre Haute though, Avery questioned her own sanity. She excused herself and walked toward the ladies’ room, hoping she could kill a few minutes and praying that when she returned the food would be there. It would certainly be the only highlight of the evening.
Avery sighed at herself in the mirror. Dating was the worst. Truth be told, there was nothing wrong with Edward. Perhaps he was a touch boring and a bit too political for her, but he was nice enough. It made telling him she wasn’t interested difficult.
She couldn’t help but wish Hawthorne was the one sitting across the table from her. Avery knew they’d spend the evening bantering and laughing, probably poking fun at the upscale menu that described simple fries as ‘hand-seasoned, fried, julienned potatoes’. If Hawthorne was waiting for her at the table, she would h
urry back, instead of using the hand dryer until her hands were fully dry and scrolling through her text messages one last time.
Unable to resist, Avery sent a quick text to Hawthorne and tucked her phone away. Then, she went back to her date. Maybe when the date was over and she’d let Edward down easy, she’d have a message in her inbox from the man who’d been on her mind the whole night.
Hawthorne smiled as he read Avery’s message under the table. His pulse kicked up a notch with the knowledge that he would see her in a few weeks. He only wished he’d thought of extending the invitation for Thanksgiving himself. His mother had apparently seen to it for him though.
He glanced up to see his mom watching him with smile. “Everything okay, sweetie?”
Hawthorne cleared his throat and nodded, jumping back to the conversation at hand. “Like I said, I’ve been thinking a lot about my role here at the farm.”
Keith nodded, “You know we appreciate everything you do.”
“I know, Dad. But I really think I’m ready to do more.” His mom beamed and he smiled in return. “I’ll never be able to thank you enough for your support after the bankruptcy. Honestly, I didn’t think it would be as hard as it was to see what I’d built be torn apart limb from limb.”
Watching his company be dismantled to pay off debts had been excruciating. But it wasn’t nearly as hard as the meeting he’d held with his loyal employees, letting them know the doors were closing and they should look for a new job.
Hawthorne continued, “I’ve realized that my strengths at the company were the big picture and the processes. The interaction of all the moving pieces. And,” he looked at his dad, “I think I can bring some of that here.” He went on to explain his vision for Daisy’s kitchen and catering for the event center. And how the produce Poppy grew could support not only the menu for those, but provide scraps for the animals as well.
“I think we are missing chances for Bloom’s Farm to work together, instead of as isolated business units. And I’d like to head up the effort to improve,” he finished. He was taking on a project, which was a start to his whole new take on responsibility. No one would lose their job if he failed, but it was something he could put his name on and claim as his own. He hadn’t done that in a long time.
Keith reached an arm over and dropped a heavy hand on Hawthorne’s shoulder. “Well, now, that sounds like a perfect job for you.” Then, his deep voice thick with emotion, “I’m proud of you, Hawthorne.”
Hawthorne warmed at the praise. “Thanks, Dad. I’m excited to see what we can do.”
Then, his mom chimed in, “I’m excited to see what you can do, sweetie.” Quietly, she added, “You’ve been hiding here for too long.”
Hawthorne nodded. He had been hiding—from responsibility. As the floating handyman, success was measured on a small scale. Did he find the missing sheep? Did he fix the fence or change the tire? A project like this meant success in bigger terms: would he make the farm more efficient? Would he grow business by creating new opportunities? Or would he waste his time and spend money they shouldn’t?
With his company, his vision had been bigger than his cash flow. The last thing he wanted was to let that happen again. Ideas were one thing—signing checks and hiring staff was another. He didn’t know if he was there yet.
Another text message chimed in his pocket. Avery. Even more than he’d wanted to share his new ideas with his parents and get them on board with his new role, he wanted to tell Avery. He’d call her after dinner and, if nothing else, he would get to see her soon for Thanksgiving. That thought had him smiling through the rest of dinner.
Avery successfully navigated the ‘no second date’ conversation at the tail end of dinner, convinced Edward to let her pay for her own meal, and made it back to the fuzzy, fleece pajamas that waited for her at home. She sighed deep into the corner of the couch and flipped on the TV as her phone lit up on the coffee table with a buzz.
Hawthorne.
She’d checked her phone in the car immediately after her date ended, stifling disappointment when her only new message was from Brielle. Eagerly, she reached for the phone and felt her cheeks burn with a grin at Hawthorne’s name displayed on the notification bubble.
Before she could over-analyze her own actions, she hit the call button, instead of responding to his question.
His throaty chuckle hummed in her ear after the connection clicked. “I guess that’s a yes.”
She blushed and tucked her legs under a blanket. “I’m awake,” she confirmed.
They hadn’t talked on the phone before and she swore she could feel the deep vibration of his voice all the way to her toes when he responded, “I’m glad.”
Hawthorne asked how her week had been, and Avery couldn’t help but tease him a bit. She chose her words carefully, “It was good. Students are practically buzzing with the upcoming break, but I had a date tonight to look forward to.” There, that was accurate. She really had been looking forward to the date—until it started.
Avery heard him cough and smiled to herself. “Oh, I didn’t realize you were seeing someone.” The unasked question was evident in his voice.
She debated how long to let him wonder but couldn’t bring herself to be dishonest. “It was a first date, and it turned out to be a major bust.”
Hawthorne didn’t sound too disappointed as he expressed his sympathy. Or was she just imagining it because she wanted him to be a little jealous?
“We haven’t talked much lately; how have you been?” Avery asked.
Hawthorne grew more animated as he talked about the project he would be leading at Bloom’s Farm. This was the kind of passion had been absent from him before. The excitement in his voice as he spoke about the ideas he’d already implemented was contagious, and she found herself asking questions and encouraging him.
Why was this so different than listening to Edward drone on about natural gas drilling? Hawthorne stopped and apologized for dominating the conversation, and she realized the difference.
This was Hawthorne.
She’d gladly listen to him talk about anything he was passionate about. Avery only wished the conversation was happening in person so she could see the fire in his eyes. It was an added bonus that this seemed to be a major step forward for Hawthorne, something intentional, proving he was more than a cavalier cad working for a paycheck until the next night at the bar.
“That’s really amazing, Hawthorne. I’m proud of you,” she said with a smile.
“You know what? I’m proud of me too. But enough about me—tell me why you chose chemical engineering.”
Avery laughed, “Really? That’s the burning question you have for me?”
“What?” Hawthorne replied with mock woundedness. “I want to know everything, Avery. You just seemed to disappear after I went to college.” She blushed, the low timbre of his voice making her want to melt into the couch cushions.
“Oh yeah, right. It’s not like you remember me from back then.”
“Sure, I do,” he insisted. “You were always hanging around the twins and Poppy.”
That much was true, she thought. Daisy and Dandelion were her best friends, and Poppy was only a year younger. The four of them, along with Mandy Elliot, had always been together. “Okay, if you remember me so well, tell me something.”
Her smug smile grew with the silence as she waited. Then, her mouth fell open as he spoke, “I remember eavesdropping on a game of Truth or Dare you were playing in the barn.”
Avery laughed. “You did not!”
A low chuckle filtered through the phone. “Oh yes, we did. Josh and I were in the loft when the five of you came in. It was,” he paused, “enlightening.”
She covered her face, thinking of the potentially embarrassing actions the fourteen-year-old version of herself had committed.
He continued, “And in case you need more proof, I’ll just say that your willingness to capture and kiss a toad was inspiring.”
Her face burn
ed. “I can’t believe you saw that,” she laughed. “Though, he certainly wasn’t the last toad I kissed,” she said, thinking of the boyfriends she’d had in high school and college.
“Well, I remember being impressed. The other girls shrieked and squealed like it was the end of the world.”
“Andi never squealed a day in her life,” Avery corrected.
Hawthorne conceded. “That’s probably true. But the others did. Most of them chose truth every time, but not you.”
“Good thing I didn’t,” Avery mused.
“Oh?” Hawthorne’s curiosity was evident in his voice.
Whoops, she didn’t mean to go there. But she answered him anyway. “I stopped choosing truth because your sisters always asked who I had a crush on and teased me when I wouldn’t answer.”
Then, he asked the question she both hoped he wouldn’t and prayed he would, “Why wouldn’t you answer the question?”
“Because the answer was always you.” She closed her eyes and held her breath, waiting for his response.
Hawthorne cleared his throat, “And what about now?”
Avery exhaled with relief and a loud laugh escaped. She grinned at the ceiling and answered, “I’ll let you know.”
11
When Poppy invited her to join her at the Minden Fall Festival, Avery hadn’t considered what they would be doing. The Bloom’s Farm “Pumpkin Patch” was set up in the park, with a hundred pumpkins of various sizes spread out in piles and on straw bales for children to pick. Avery also hadn’t expected Hawthorne to be there helping. She wouldn’t complain about watching him haul the heavy pumpkins from the truck while she and Poppy arranged them.
“How about we trade jobs?” Hawthorne stretched after setting a particularly large pumpkin next to a small bale of straw. “I’ll add the cutesy flowers and ribbon and you ladies can carry the goods.”
Hoping for Hawthorne: A Contemporary Christian Romance (Bloom Sisters Book 0) Page 6