by Toni Blake
Mrs. Cosway ordered a basket of McIntoshes as the two took a few minutes to catch up.
And for anyone who didn’t recognize Rachel, Edna was quick to say, “You remember my granddaughter. She lives up in Chicago now, but she’s been here helpin’ me with the apples this fall,” and she’d drag Rachel over to say hello.
Around noon, Edna asked Rachel to venture from the booth to get them something to eat. “But take your time,” she said. “Look around, enjoy yourself.” So she meandered over to Under the Covers, where Amy and Tessa sat on the front walk behind a table covered with cookbooks featuring apple recipes. Amy had just come back from walking around the festival with Logan for a while, so when Rachel asked for company, it was Tessa’s turn.
The fire department was roasting corn on the cob and had a dunking booth set up alongside a bright red fire engine they’d pulled out for kids to look at. Next door, the police department grilled burgers and hotdogs, and Mike was giving safety talks to children. As they approached, Rachel and Tessa hung back, listening, and both were amazed at how…gentle he sounded talking to the little kids. He seemed to be reviewing stuff he’d already told them.
“When should you get into a car with a stranger?” he asked the group of seven small children gathered around him, among them Sue Ann’s little girl, Sophie.
“Never,” they said in unison.
“What if the stranger tells you your parents sent them to get you?”
The kids all shook their heads, and Sophie said, “Our parents would never send someone we don’t know,” clearly reciting what she’d learned from Mike.
“That’s right. But what if the stranger says he’s lost his dog and wants you to help him find it?”
A dark-haired little boy spoke up. “They shouldn’t ask a little kid like us for help. They should ask another grown-up.”
Just then, she caught Mike’s eye and he gave her a quick wink before looking back to the kids and proceeding with his talk.
As she and Tessa continued making the rounds, Rachel discovered that the real estate office where Sue Ann worked part-time had sponsored a booth with face-painting and jars of apple butter for sale. The Destiny High Science Department table was manned by Jenny, who’d made dozens of individual-size apple and peach cobblers. And the Schuster farm sold pumpkins and squash from the back of a pickup truck. Several organizations hosted craft booths, and a stage set up in front of the old Ambassador Theater featured every kind of entertainment, from bluegrass bands to the high school chorus to Sophie’s ballet class later, according to Sue Ann.
“At four,” Tessa told her, “there’s an apple-bobbing contest for kids, then the pie-eating contest, and right after that, the members of the town council will judge the apple pie bake-off. Did Edna enter?”
Rachel shook her head, smiling. “She told me she retired after six consecutive wins—it started pissing people off and no one else would enter.”
A few minutes later, Rachel said, “Well, I’d better get a couple of burgers from the police department and get back to work.” Then she sniffed the air. “But wait—do I smell funnel cakes?”
Tessa pointed just past the face-painting festivities. “Town council booth.”
“Okay, burgers for lunch, a funnel cake for dessert.”
Tessa helped her carry the food, and as they walked back toward the orchard’s booth, Tessa said, “You know, I don’t want to sound like Amy, like I don’t get it, but…there’s not any chance you could stay longer, is there?”
Rachel just looked at her, stunned. Unlike Amy, Tessa understood about life outside Destiny, about careers and security.
Before Rachel even opened her mouth to respond, though, Tessa shook her head. “Wait, never mind. Like I said, I get it. I just…wanted you to know it’s not going to be the same around here without you. And it seems like you and Mike are getting…pretty solid. Am I wrong about that?”
Was she? Well, it didn’t matter. What mattered was what Rachel told her as they made their way through the crowd. “We have a nice thing going, but…we’ve both known it was temporary, from the start. So the way I’m looking at it is…all good things must come to an end.”
“Ya done real good today,” Edna said as the crowds began to die down.
Rachel laughed, still in good spirits. “Did you expect me to do bad?”
Edna just grinned. “Well, no, of course not. But…you seemed like you were actually enjoyin’ yourself, and I didn’t expect that part.”
Rachel gave her head a thoughtful tilt. “Neither did I.” The truth was, she hadn’t expected to enjoy anything on her trip back to Destiny—but she’d found a lot to take joy in. Spending time with Edna, the peace she found in the orchard, her friends, the sense of community…and a certain Destiny town cop. And wow, now that she thought about it—she’d even ended a family feud. “It’s been a good visit,” she went on, then motioned around her to the whole festival. “And I’m impressed as hell that you created this entire event.”
Her grandmother just shrugged. “You make your own fortune in life—don’t ya think?”
Rachel nodded. “Most of the time, yeah, I do think that.”
“Listen,” Edna said, “not to get all mushy on ya, but I’m gonna be damn sorry to see ya go. I’ve had my fair share of children and grandchildren come home to help me out from time to time these past few years, and…well, much as I like seein’ ’em, turns out I’m usually ready to say adios when the time comes, too. But that ain’t how I feel this time around.”
“Well, not to get all mushy in return, but I kinda feel the same way,” Rachel confessed. Then she gave Edna a teasing smile. “Not everybody has a sarcastic, smart-mouthed grandma who tells them all about her torrid affairs.”
To her surprise, though, Edna’s face took on that now familiar wistful expression. “Maybe I thought if I kept things interestin’, you’d stay.”
But Rachel just rolled her eyes. “What is it with you people? Everywhere I go now, people ask me to stay when they know good and well I can’t.”
“There’s worse things in life than havin’ people care about ya.”
“Okay, good point.”
“And I’m just sayin’, if ya ever wanted to come back here—well, there’s always a room for ya under my roof.”
They sold every last apple by the time the festival drew to a close near dark. The Schusters’ guitar-playing friend was the last performer on the stage, his quiet music relaxing as the busy day wound down. Tired, Edna headed home—all the cleanup would take place tomorrow—and Rachel said she’d catch a ride with Mike later.
Alone, she wandered to the chairs in front of the stage and took one in the last row, unable to prevent that strange melancholy from settling back over her. As the festival ended, she sensed a bigger ending in her own life: the end of her days in Destiny. She’d done what she’d come here to do—and now it was time to go home. She’d just never dreamed she’d feel so conflicted about it.
As the man with the guitar sang that same James Taylor song as at the bonfire, about a woman helping a man leave his troubled world behind, Mike settled quietly next to her and slid his arm around the back of her chair. Neither spoke, but she felt the song’s lyrics sinking in to her bones somehow, making her sad—even though the story they told was a happy, moving one. Was Mike feeling the same way? Feeling the strain of her impending departure? She didn’t know for sure, but she suspected maybe he did.
When the guitar man finished and said good night, the remaining crowd gathered their apple products and children and began to head to their cars, and soon she and Mike were two of only a few people still lingering in the square. Booths stood empty all around the perimeter, along with overflowing trash cans, and the occasional smashed bit of apple littered the ground. But something about the solitude made her think of that morning in Mike’s bed when it had been raining outside. She felt the same way now, like they were in a cocoon here, like they were the only two people in the world. It dawned o
n her then that maybe it wasn’t the rain that had made her feel that way. And maybe it wasn’t the empty square now. Maybe it was just…Mike.
“Listen,” he said in his deep, sexy voice, “there’s something I want to tell you.”
She looked over into his eyes, his face illuminated by nearby streetlamps.
“I put away a picture of Anna today.”
“Huh?” she asked, not quite understanding.
“I’ve always kept a picture of her on my desk at the station,” he explained, pointing over his shoulder in that general direction. “Chief Tolliver recently suggested I put it away, but I couldn’t do it. And then…well, I guess you got me thinking—about trying to move forward, at least a little, so that’s how I started. Today. I put the picture in a drawer. And I’m a long way from putting them all away, but it’s a start.”
An autumn chill had come on with the fall of night, but Rachel felt warm inside. Because even if it was just in a small way, Mike was telling her that maybe she’d made his life…a little clearer, a little better. Given how long she knew he’d been struggling with these demons, at the moment this felt even more important than having helped Edna harvest the apples. In response, she wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him a hug. He hugged her back, and they embraced a long while.
Finally, he pulled back and said, “You wanna go somewhere, get something to eat?”
“I’m stuffed on funnel cakes, but yeah, let’s take off—just go for a drive or something.”
“I’m in my cruiser,” he told her.
“Is that a problem?”
“Not if you won’t miss cuddling up against me too much. There’s a console.”
She bit her lip. “Well, that is kind of a bummer, but it’ll be better than nothing.”
As they walked hand in hand toward the police station, though, Rachel suddenly remembered. “Wait, I have to get something from our booth.” She’d brought Mike’s gift with her today, knowing she’d see him tonight.
Soon they were driving away from the heart of town in Mike’s police car, but after they passed Creekside Park, he put on his signal and turned onto the lane leading to the orchard.
“Am I a bad date?” Rachel asked kiddingly. “I’m boring, so you’re bringing me home early?”
He slanted her a look. “Not possible, Farris. I just decided I don’t like having a console between us, especially with you leaving in a few days.”
She liked that. Because it might be totally high-schoolish, yet she had missed pressing up against him from the moment they’d gotten in the car. “But, uh, you know Edna’s here, right?”
“Not stopping at the house,” he said at the precise moment he drove past it on the gravel drive that led to the barn.
“Oh.” She liked that, too.
Though he didn’t stop at the barn, either, easing the cruiser onto a path that led behind it, where he finally parked—out of sight of the house.
“This is for you,” she said, holding out the little black shopping bag she’d been toting since leaving town.
He looked surprised—apparently, he’d thought it held something she needed to take home, or to Edna. “What is it?”
“A thank you gift for helping us get the apples in on time.”
He met her gaze, looking curious, then took the bag and reached inside—to pull out a pair of silk leopard print boxer shorts.
He just blinked at them, repeatedly, like he didn’t quite understand what he was seeing. Finally, he said, “You’re not serious?”
Rachel just sighed. The big lug. Tessa had been right. “Is that your way of saying thank you? Because if it is, you could do better.”
He looked at her, then back at the shorts—which she thought were adorably cute and sexy. “Okay, you’re right. Thank you. But I won’t wear them.”
“Not even for me? The way I wear pretty bras and panties for you?”
“No.” Unequivocally.
“They turn me on,” she pointed out.
He only flashed a look of disbelief. “Seriously? These?”
“Yes. I like leopard print and these are totally cute and hot.”
“They’re silly,” he said simply.
She couldn’t help frowning, disappointed her gift had gone over so badly. “That’s why I was speeding back into town yesterday when you pulled me over, you big jerk-face. I’d dropped everything to go buy you a present.”
His brows knit slightly, and finally, he looked a little guilty. “That was sweet of you,” he admitted.
“I know.”
Then he tilted his head, the corners of his mouth turning up in just a hint of a smile. “Who’d have thought? Rachel Farris, sweet.”
“You, on the other hand,” she complained, pouting, “are reverting to form.”
“Come on now,” he prodded, trying to make up, “don’t be mad.” He reached over, took her hand, and pressed it between his thighs. And—oh my—he was nice and hard through his police uniform. Despite herself, her whole body tingled hotly when he said, “All you really need to turn you on is this.”
She let out a sexy sigh and her voice came out breathy. “You know me too well.”
Looking back to his gift, he informed her, “I think I’m gonna pass a law against leopard boxer shorts in this town.” Then he put on his serious cop voice. “In fact, ma’am, I’m gonna have to ask you to step out of the vehicle.”
Ma’am again, huh? Well, now that she’d beat out Pamela for the job, it didn’t feel quite as offensive. Especially since she was getting more aroused each second by whatever little cop game Mike was starting here.
By the time she’d exited the car, he’d walked around to her side. “Assume the position.”
“Huh?” She knew the phrase, but wasn’t exactly sure what it meant.
“Face the car, hands on the fender, feet apart.”
“Oh.” And as she did so, she couldn’t deny it had the potential to be a very sexy position.
It got that way fast when Mike moved behind her and began to pat her down—quickly at first, like they did on TV—but then he slowed down, frisking her in a more leisurely, intimate manner. His hands moved up her sides and onto her breasts, making her let out a light “mmm.” Then he eased them back down her body until they curved around her inner thighs.
She sucked in her breath as Mike smoothly undid her jeans and proceeded to tug them down over her ass.
Then she looked over her shoulder, into the game now, to say, “Officer, I’m not sure this is appropriate.”
His heated gaze captured hers as his palms closed on her bare hips—and a second later, he was plunging into her. She cried out at the impact, then said breathily, teasingly, “I’m gonna have to report you for police brutality.”
As his arms wrapped warm around her waist, up under her top, he leaned close to her ear and whispered. “I think you can take it.” And then he began to move in her.
“Oh God, I think I can, too,” she murmured as the pleasure spread through her, thick and deep. Mike always filled her perfectly, but standing up, she felt him even more. She instinctively arched her bottom toward him, wanting him deeper—and he gave her what she needed, over and over, in hard, smooth strokes that vibrated through her entire being.
And it all felt very sexy and very fun until…it didn’t anymore.
At some point his actions slowed, became more sensual. He kissed her neck, drew his teeth down her earlobe. She felt it everywhere, shut her eyes, and tilted her head so he’d do it some more. The playful cop game was over and now it was just them, him and her, making love, slow and passionate.
As Mike delivered thrust after deep, lingering thrust, she leaned her head back and looked up at the stars. It was another beautifully clear night, and the sky twinkled with light so vibrant it seemed to rain down upon them.
After a while, he drew back from her and said, “Take off your jeans.”
She hurried out of them, instructing him, “Take off your shirt.”
A minute later, his uniform shirt and badge were on the ground and he was picking her up and pressing her back against the barn. Her legs wrapped around his waist automatically as he re-entered her. This time, they both groaned and he crushed his chest to hers and kissed her, firm and long.
Their gazes met as they rediscovered that slow, sensual rhythm. Oh God, that was one thing she’d never done with a guy before Mike—looked into his eyes while he moved inside her. The stark intimacy, their faces so close right now, made her breath tremble. They said nothing—words felt unnecessary. Their bodies, their eyes, said everything.
This is intense.
This is way more than just sex.
This is spectacular and wondrous and moving.
And this is tragic because it’s one of the very last times.
And in the midst of it all, she found herself thinking of Edna and Giovanni, who’d made love all over this orchard. Her grandmother, his grandfather. But they, too, had eventually parted, just like Rachel and Mike would soon. Some things, she supposed, just weren’t meant to last. Even without yet knowing exactly how Edna and Giovanni’s story ended, this felt—in a strange way—like history repeating itself.
Everything inside Rachel moved in all the right ways as she strained against him, meeting his strokes, seeking her own pleasure. It built inside her, slow and deep, just like their sex itself, and when finally it broke, she screamed it out. She sobbed all through the gloriously extended orgasm, the pleasure buffeting her, owning her, wrenching her in his arms. And when it was done, her whole body trembled now—not just her breath.
Mike held her tight and whispered, “You okay, baby?”
She bit her lip, feeling so connected to him, so safe and warm in his arms, that she could barely fathom it. She could only nod. And then she burst out, “Come in me. I want to make you come in me. Deep, deep inside me.”
“Aw Christ, honey, that’s all it took,” he growled, and as he climaxed, she relished the idea of him leaving a part of himself inside her that way.
A little later, they sat on the back of the cruiser, looking up at the stars.