The Cottage on Pumpkin and Vine

by Kate Angell

  “That was fast,” he said, walking up to her, knowing he shouldn’t. Knowing that nervous hair tuck and defiant lift of her chin meant that she was just as worked up as he was and that any contact between them would be combustible.

  His feet weren’t listening.

  “Yeah, it went pretty quickly once—” Sidney gasped with a nervous little laugh when he took the keys and her hand in one move and didn’t let go. He couldn’t. Damn it. “Once—Amelia Rose got involved,” she finished breathily.

  “She’s tricky like that,” he said, using her hand to pull her closer. Inhaling the clean scent of her hair as their bodies touched and her free hand slid up his side to his chest. Fuck. “So he caved?”

  He had no idea what words were falling from his mouth as his hands came up that magical sweater to her neck, her face. Her eyelashes fluttered a little as his thumb brushed her lips.

  “Sawyer,” she whispered.

  “I’m gonna kiss you,” he said, nearly there, the feel of her driving him mad. It didn’t matter how bad an idea it was. Or how much he’d pay for it later. He couldn’t not touch her as long as she was here. It wasn’t possible.

  “I’m going home,” she said.

  “I know.”

  “Today.”

  That word stopped his progression toward her mouth, just centimeters away, and his eyes locked on hers.

  “Walking to Boston, are you?” he asked.

  He felt her fingers curl into his shirt, another tell. She wanted him, regardless of her confusing words.

  “Crane is sending me a car.”

  And that went past confusing, straight into delusional.

  “Say what?” Sawyer asked, backing up an inch to see her eyes better.

  “I know,” she said. “But he’s having it delivered here. A loaner till my car’s fixed.”

  He had to back up another few inches, and dropped his hands to land on hers.

  “He gave up the case with Teasdale, and lent you a car?” he asked.

  Sidney bit her bottom lip. “Apparently.”

  “Because?”

  “Because I think he wants me out of town and not to hang around Amelia Rose anymore,” she said.

  Sawyer laughed at that. “Gotta love that the one person he’s afraid of in this town weighs maybe a hundred and ten soaking wet.” He looked down at their hands. His on hers, against his chest. He nodded and squeezed as he let them go and backed away. All the way away, to a stool on the other side of the shed by the lawn mower. He sank onto it. Distance.

  “I’m kind of on the hot seat at work, so getting back on time will be a plus with my boss,” she said, looking at her empty hands like she didn’t know what to do with them.

  “Winning the case?” he said.

  “Will just break me even.”

  He chuckled. “Well, then I’m glad it all worked out for you.”

  Her gaze dropped, and sadness draped her features as the silence stretched.

  “Sawyer—” she began.

  No. He wasn’t going to do a painful good-bye with her. Hell, leaving without saying a word like he did last time would be better than that.

  “I just want you to be happy, Sid,” he said. “Where you are, what you’re doing, who you are. Just tell me you’re happy.”

  The troubled eyes that looked back at him told him anything but, and her slow stroll in his direction looked like something more final than an answer.

  “I’m gonna miss you, Sawyer Finn,” she said softly, sliding her arms around his neck. “I never thought I wanted to find you,” she said, her voice giving way to emotion. “And now I can’t imagine—”

  Sawyer pulled her to him with a smile he didn’t feel, everything inside him screaming not to let this end this way. Not to let her go. Not after all these years. It had been over a decade since he’d felt raw pain like this, and he wasn’t a fan.

  “Gonna miss you, too, Cinderella,” he said against her neck, kissing the tender skin softly as she chuckled and pulled back.

  Her hands moved to his face, her eyes brimming with tears, as she kissed him. Her lips were trembling, and when she pulled away and turned, Sawyer’s chest felt like it cracked right down the center.

  No.

  “Wait,” he said, grabbing her hand, not knowing what he was going to say but knowing something needed saying. The tears that were already falling from her eyes told him he was right. “Don’t go.”

  “I have to,” she said, her voice hoarse.

  “One more night,” he said, reaching. “Stay with me tonight.”

  Never in his life had he asked a woman to stay at his house. That was his haven, his privacy. And the thought of Sidney in it suddenly felt as natural as rain.

  “You can leave as early as you need to in the morning,” he said, rising to his feet and wiping her tears as fast as they came. “Please,” he whispered.

  “Sawyer, if I spend another night in—” She stopped and shut her eyes tight. In his arms. “I won’t be able to walk away,” she finished, the words cracking.

  He pulled her as tightly to him as he could, holding her as she held him, with one sobering thought repeating itself over and over in his head. He didn’t want her to walk away. Ever.

  And when she finally did, she took his heart. Completely, this time.

  Chapter 15

  Sidney stood outside the building that housed Finley and Blossom, coffee in hand, studying the bricks that decorated the lower floor before it all gave way to glass. Like the bricks weren’t good enough to continue on. Too earthy or too common. Not slick and shiny like the glass.

  Then again, she could just be transferring a lot of emotional baggage to a building.

  Still. She’d been standing outside for ten minutes, like some giant hand was holding her back from pushing open those doors, and there was no reason. She had nothing to fear from talking to Orchid, that would be a plus, and showing up today when she said she wouldn’t be able to—well, that would be an ass-kisser, as well. Brownie points all around.

  So, what was keeping her out there warming the sidewalk?

  I just want you to be happy, Sid. Where you are, what you’re doing, who you are. Just tell me you’re happy.

  Yeah, that. His voice in her head, while she waited for the car, the whole drive home, the whole night in her cold, lonely bed after digging through storage boxes to find his ring. Wearing it on her forefinger like a teenager as she slept, instead of being skin-to-skin with him in his bed. Words that didn’t make her question and doubt everything she was. Words that didn’t bring to mind the look in his eyes and the feel of his arms around her and the sound of his plea for her to stay.

  All the things. All the feels. All the shit that had her crying for another night, meaning that her eyelids had graduated to flying saucer level.

  “Are you lost?” came a familiar voice behind her, making her jump.

  “Orchid!” Sidney said, whirling around as her boss passed her by.

  “Thought you were stuck in Mayberry today,” Orchid said, breezing by on a wave of something that smelled expensive.

  “I negotiated a car from a local dealer while mine is getting fixed,” she said, crossing her fingers at the small twist of the truth. Her feet moved to catch up.

  “I didn’t see an e-mail come through with the lease documents,” she said, pushing open the door.

  “That’s because I have it all with me right now,” Sidney said.

  “Signed?” Orchid asked, glancing over her shoulder.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Sidney said.

  Orchid nodded as she pushed the elevator button. “I’m impressed.”

  Sidney felt the irritation twitch in her eyebrow. “Really? Because you told me if I couldn’t do this—”

  “I know what I told you,” she said. “But I also thought that Mayberry would eat you up.” She flashed a big smile. “You proved me wrong. If you can slice and dice in a sweet little town like that, maybe you have the heart of a cutthroat attorney aft
er all.”

  . . . a cutthroat attorney . . .

  We need a people-lawyer . . . .

  The elevator opened, and Orchid strode in, her five-hundred-dollar heels clicking prettily on the hardwood. She turned and posed at the same time, looking at Sidney expectantly.

  “Aren’t you coming in?”

  Sidney blinked. Last week, her biggest wish was to be successful like Orchid. It was like the colors had changed now. “Your uncle is doing okay, by the way. He’s missing your aunt, but he’s getting along. He’ll be better now that he doesn’t have to worry about her shop.”

  Orchid’s perfectly carved brows drew together. “Okay.” She punched the button to keep the doors open when they tried to close. “Whatever. Are you coming? I have a conference call in five minutes.”

  Goose bumps covered her entire body as she heard the words in her head before they ever came out of her mouth.

  “I don’t think so,” she said, her voice sounding funny. “Have a good day, Miss Smith.”

  Orchid’s eyes got huge. “What did you just say?”

  Sidney smiled as the doors closed.

  * * *

  Sawyer was on a mission. Several, actually. He’d taken on three outside jobs in addition to his regular duties at the cottage, and had pretty much put himself on call for anything anyone needed doing, anywhere. Staying busy the past week was the only thing keeping him sane.

  Amelia Rose kept wanting to talk about Sidney, but there was no talking about Sidney. There was thinking, there was dreaming, there was wishing, there was being really pissed off about Sidney, but talking? No. Sawyer was done with the subject of the one woman he ever let himself love and let go. Twice. The second time happening in one damn day.

  Working around the clock was the way to go the first time, it got him through the rough patches, so he figured why the hell not. Two weeks in, he was a little tired and delirious, but his bank account would be happy.

  The alert on his phone went off just as he was manhandling a dolly into the back of his truck. Next up was some furniture he’d been asked to go move around for Mr. Teasdale. Or for the new owner, actually. Crane had actually sold the place within days of letting go of the lease, and supposedly the new owner was wanting some stuff done, including moving out some of what was in there.

  “Yeah, yeah, I know,” he said to the phone. “No rest for the weary.”

  “Sawyer, can you pick up some of those wooden pallets behind the grocery store on your way back later?” Amelia Rose called from the front porch. “I have a project I want to do.”

  “Will do,” he said. “How many do you need?”

  “Six or seven,” she said. “Whatever they have. But no rush.”

  “I won’t be long,” he said. “This is more a consultation than anything else,” he said. “I don’t know what all the new owner wants yet.”

  “Might be longer than you think,” she said, an odd little grin on her face as she went back inside.

  Okay, so Amelia Rose was having a weird day. That wasn’t all that new, either.

  Sawyer was hit with déjà vu as he pulled in front of the former soda shop. The last time he was there was when Sidney was there. When her car died and she actually had to speak to him, and the day began. He swallowed that back. He couldn’t avoid everything in town just because Sidney had touched it.

  Rubbing the back of his neck, Sawyer stepped out and closed the door with a louder squeak than normal. He didn’t see Teasdale’s SUV at first glance, but the avenue was busy with shoppers today. Lots of cars lined the spaces. He rolled up his sleeves to get busy, and opened the soda shop door.

  First thing different was the temperature. As in, it was normal.

  “One check mark in their favor,” he mumbled to himself.

  Second was that all the small tables and chairs were moved to one side of the soda fountain, and an impromptu office area was set up to the right of it. Complete with a desk and visitor chairs.

  “Hello?” he called out. “Anybody here?” He hoped so, since it was unlocked. Surely the new owner didn’t think just because this was a small town, that he could—

  “I think so,” came a voice behind him.

  He turned on his heel, and very nearly tripped over it, as well.

  “What the hell?” he said under his breath.

  “Well, nice to see you, too,” she said. Sidney Jensen said.

  “What—how—what are you doing here?” he asked, his mind jumbling over itself.

  She was standing maybe eight feet away, in jeans and a Snoopy sweatshirt, sneakers on her feet and a nervous smile tugging at her lips. She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, and he thought his knees might give.

  “Well, I kind of have to be here now that I’ve signed those pesky papers,” she said, holding up her hands. “So I drove in this morning and Mr. Teasdale and I have been going over the building—”

  “What?” Sawyer said. “The building—what papers?”

  “The kind that say ‘Sidney Jensen, Owner,’ ” she said.

  Chills traveled his skin, the kind that women get, and it probably made him a world-class wuss, but holy shit balls—she just said that.

  “Are you serious?” he said, still not moving.

  “Well, they also say ‘Sidney Jensen, Attorney,’ ” she said. “But that’s really more for the sign I’ll hang. And I’m thinking of maybe something about cookies, too, but I need to talk to Amelia Rose about that.”

  “Don’t fuck with me,” Sawyer said, moving one foot forward.

  Sidney started to laugh, and crossed her arms over her chest. “Um, no fucking going on.”

  “Don’t play with me,” he said, taking two more slow steps toward her, as she continued to laugh and backed up. “You’re here? You’re—moving here?”

  “That’s the plan,” she said, stopping as she backed into the soda fountain bar. Her eyes—those eyes that drove him crazy with desire and love and frustration—grew large and dark and sexy as she realized she had nowhere to go. “I mean, I could commute from Boston, but you know my car kind of sucks, and—”

  Two steps and his mouth was on hers, tasting her laugh, absorbing her following sigh of wanting and need. Her arms went around him as he dove into her mouth, taking everything he’d missed over the last two weeks. Kissing her till they were both breathless, till their hands were just as needy as their mouths.

  Breaking away, he held her face in his hands, loving how her eyes were so dilated they were almost black.

  “This is real?” he breathed.

  “This is real,” she said, her lips smiling against his.

  “Why?” he asked. “Why would you give up—”

  “I didn’t give up anything,” she said, her fingers working in his hair. “You made all that noise about being happy, so—” She stopped to take a breath and look at him, and fuck if it didn’t take away his. “Happy was here,” she whispered.

  Sawyer shook his head slowly in disbelief, pressing a soft kiss to her lips and breathing her in. “I love you,” he whispered against them. “I’ve always loved you.”

  “I love you, too,” she whispered back, her voice shaking.

  “So, what are you going to do with this bar?” he asked, needing to back up the emotion train before it ran him over.

  She swiped under her eyes and laughed. “No idea,” she said. “But it’s staying. It’s too cool not to stay.”

  “I have some ideas,” he said.

  “I’ll bet you do,” she said, kissing him once, twice, three times.

  “But not until I make love to you in a bed,” Sawyer said. “Slow. Thorough. No grass—”

  “No mud?”

  “No really large window,” he said, pointing at the curtainless plate-glass window.

  “I really think you shouldn’t knock the grass and mud,” Sidney said, moving up to a stool and wrapping her legs around him. “It was on the Rose Cottage property, after all.”

  “Oh,” he said, laughing.
“So you’re saying you believe the legend?”

  Sidney’s eyes averted suddenly as if she had an epiphany. “Oh my God.”

  “What?”

  “ ‘Your past will be your future,’ ” she mumbled, her chin trembling.

  “What?” he repeated.

  She shook her head, eyes misty, and smiled, looking at him the way she had in his mind for years. Except the girl in love was now the woman in love.

  “Yeah,” she said. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

  Read more Kate Angell next month in

  THAT MISTLETOE MOMENT

  by Cat Johnson, Kate Angell, and Allyson Charles

  As the holidays descend, three single women take a thoroughly modern approach to good old-fashioned romance and wonder if the best—and most complicated—gift of all is just a click, tap, or swipe away....

  MADE UP

  Like a Christmas miracle, the Build-a-Boyfriend app lets you simply input the stats of your dream man, and witty texts, passionate e-mails, and hot Instagram pics start flooding in. No more awkward questions or pitying looks as you face the holidays alone!

  MIXED UP

  Even the best technology has its glitches. When real-life emotions come into play, this trio of twentysomethings find themselves in a tangle of crossed signals, flying wrapping paper, disastrous Christmas parties . . . and surprising kisses.

  MATCHED UP

  Despite the confusion of their mistletoe misadventures, when the New Year dawns, these very satisfied women just may find themselves waking up with true love beside them.

  Love Jennifer Dawson?

  Be sure to check out the

  Something New Series

  Take a Chance on Me

  The Winner Takes It All

  The Name of the Game

  As Good as New

  As well as the e-novella