by Black, Tasha
“Yes,” Mei agreed. “But we already knew that.”
Addison laughed and suddenly the prospect of being someone’s fake fiancée didn’t seem so daunting. She could do anything with good friends cheering her on.
9
Ryan
Ryan woke up early to go to the orchard.
But Grandma Stevenson had woken up even earlier. She eyed him suspiciously as he padded into the kitchen.
“Good morning,” he said. “Do you want me to cook up some eggs?”
“I’ve already eaten,” she sniffed. “Don’t you normally get up early to run?”
“It’s only seven-thirty,” he replied. “I still have time to run before we go.”
She nodded in a pleased way. Before her illness and joints had side-lined her, Grandma Stevenson had always been very active. She’d been a merciless tennis player well into her sixties.
“Can I make you a cup of tea?” he offered as he pulled the orange juice container out of the refrigerator.
“No, no, I’m about to do my meditation,” she replied.
He nodded to her and didn’t ask any questions.
Though she would never show it if she could help it, he figured she was probably in pain. Meditation would be part of her pain management plan. He’d included it in several plans for his own patients.
Though many of his older patients balked at “new age” approaches like meditation, he could see how it would be right up Grandma Stevenson’s alley. Not because she was interested in homeopathy or spiritualism, but because she had always been a mind over matter kind of person.
He thanked his lucky stars that he had bought this house, with plenty of room for Grandma Stevenson to do whatever she liked in the large guest room. It had felt a bit like overkill for a single guy to go all in on a four-bedroom center hall colonial with a first-floor master bedroom addition, but after growing up in apartments and then years of medical school and residency, Ryan was ready to settle down. If his mate didn’t like the house, he could always sell it and buy another. And the master suite meant that Grandma Stevenson could stay on the first floor when she visited. Ryan preferred the original main bedroom upstairs with the window seat that had a view over the trees for himself anyway.
He took a last swig of juice and then returned the container to the refrigerator.
“Has your fiancée seen you doing that?” Grandma Stevenson asked with one brow raised.
“N-no,” he said, realizing he had forgotten to use a glass in front of her.
“Keep it that way,” Grandma Stevenson said. “She’s marrying a man, not a little boy in a television commercial from the 1990s.”
Ryan cleared his throat to cover the beginning of a laugh, nodded briskly, and headed out to the porch to grab his running shoes.
The unseasonably warm weather was great for running, though last night’s rain would keep him to the sidewalks and paved roads and off the muddy trails on the college campus.
He stretched for a moment, sucking in the damp air, and then took off down the block.
The little town was just waking up. He could see lights on in some of the windows. Inside, children were getting ready for school, and adults were getting ready for work - at least those who hadn’t already taken the seven am train into the city.
Outside, the world was quiet. A few squirrels danced across the street and chattered to each other in the branches overhead. Otherwise, Tarker’s Hollow seemed to belong solely to Ryan in these early hours.
These were the times when it was hardest to get his mind off Addison.
Knowing that he would be seeing her later that morning, and pretending that they were engaged, had his heart pumping more than the jogging did.
Remember that for her it’s not real…
He was going to get hurt. He knew that already. The three days would pass, and she would still be sweet Addison, too shy to meet his eyes or acknowledge the electricity between them.
But he told himself it would be worth it for three days of heavenly time together.
It had to be enough.
Before he knew it, he was running back up the front path of his own house, the three-mile run had melted away in what felt like a heartbeat.
He showered quickly and dressed in his usual off-duty attire of jeans and t-shirt.
He wondered briefly if Addison liked a guy to be more fashion-conscious. But he didn’t exactly have a wardrobe to accommodate those tastes.
When he got downstairs, Grandma Stevenson was standing in the center hall, smoothing her bun as she looked in the mirror over the hall table.
“It’s a perfect day for the orchard,” she said, turning to him with a smile.
“You look lovely,” he told her. “Are you ready?”
“Of course,” she replied.
They headed out to his car, arm in arm.
It was hard not to wonder if this would be the last time they did this together. That was the trap of illness. Ryan usually fought against it. Grandma Stevenson often scolded him that there was no point feeling tragic and overly sentimental, worrying about what the future might hold - that he was going to miss out on the good times happening in the present.
“Why aren’t we picking up Addison?” Grandma Stevenson asked after she buckled her seat belt.
“Oh, uh, she had something to do before the orchard,” Ryan managed. “She’s going to meet us there.”
Sheesh. He really needed to get better at the subterfuge. The women in his life had his emotions overflowing. He swore his heart was drawing energy that belonged in his brain.
“She seems very nice,” Grandma Stevenson said dreamily.
“She is very nice,” Ryan agreed, with a smile.
“Even if she is a bit on the young side,” Grandma Stevenson said.
Ryan nodded. He was secretly glad Grandma Stevenson had noticed and was bringing it up.
“I’m not saying you’re robbing the cradle,” she added. “Only that there’s something about her…”
“An innocence,” Ryan suggested.
“Exactly,” Grandma Stevenson said. “There is an innocence about her. I wonder if she has ever seen your… wild side?”
That was a polite reference to the fact that Ryan was a shifter.
“She hasn’t seen me in that form,” he said carefully. “But she knows.”
“It’s not the same thing, dear,” Grandma Stevenson reminded him.
“Yeah,” he said, frowning. “I guess not.”
It was true. The theory that he could shift into a wolf paled in comparison to his enormous russet and black form, bounding through the woods on immense paws.
“Don’t mates normally meet the wolf early on?” Grandma Stevenson asked.
Shit. She was right. Of course they did.
“We haven’t been engaged all that long,” Ryan said. “I didn’t want to expose the secret before I knew she was in it for the long haul.”
“Don’t wait too long,” Grandma Stevenson advised. “She’s already certain to have a picture in her head of what your shift would look like. And it may not be accurate.”
They were coming around the curve approaching Harkness Farms. Ryan concentrated on the road, wary of the hayrides and cars pulling out of the lots.
He pulled into the main entry, his car jostling onto the gravel as the line of ancient sycamores led them into the extended parking area.
The old white stucco farmhouse was home to Kate Harkness and her current group of foster children, who were all adored by Kate and her friends, and learned to help out on the farm.
What most people didn’t know was that the foster children at Harkness Farms were usually young shifters who had come into their gifts long before puberty. Some of them came from families that had no other shifters to help them.
Kate Harkness took them all in, and when they came of age, those who stuck around usually joined the Tarker’s Hollow pack.
Ryan counted more than a few among his closest friends.
<
br /> They pulled into a good spot, not too far from Pumpkinland and the octagonal barn. Grandma Stevenson didn’t like to use the handicapped placard she carried in her purse, so Ryan always hoped for a close spot.
He hopped out and hustled around to open the passenger door.
“Where’s Addison?” she asked as he helped her up.
“She should be along any minute—” he began.
But the words dried up in his throat.
Addison was walking down the gravel driveway toward them.
And she was radiant.
Presumably, she had dressed to impress his grandmother, but still casually enough for a day at the orchard. She wore a white turtleneck with a green velvet jacket and a pair of jeans just tight enough to accent her curves. Her hair was pinned up in a way that accentuated her high cheekbones.
But it was the look of gentle happiness in her eyes that Ryan found most arresting. It took all he had not to run to her and wrap his arms around her.
“Isn’t she lovely,” Grandma Stevenson said approvingly.
“Yes,” he said, restraining himself.
For the first time, he stopped wondering how he would keep himself from getting hurt in this game, and began to wonder instead if there might be a way to win her over for real.
Maybe it was time to play for keeps.
10
Addison
Addison felt her heart lift when her eyes met Ryan’s.
Though there were loads of families arriving at the farm and his grandmother was right beside him, for that instant it felt like the two of them were alone.
All her nerves were suddenly gone, and she went to meet them feeling nothing but excitement at the chance to spend a day together. Even the soreness in her ankle seemed like a distant memory.
“Addison,” Ryan said.
He was looking at her in that way again, his eyes gone hazy and slightly golden.
Her body tingled in response.
“It’s good to see you, dear,” Grandma Stevenson said.
“You too, Mrs. Stevenson,” Addison said politely.
“Why don’t you call me Grandma Stevenson?” the older woman suggested with a smile.
“That sounds nice,” Addison said with a pang of conscience that she quickly squelched. “Thank you, Grandma Stevenson.”
“Now, what Ryan and I usually do is we pick out a pumpkin first,” Grandma Stevenson suggested.
“That sounds great,” Addison said.
Ryan caught her eye and then offered her his hand.
Her breath caught in her chest.
Tentatively, she placed her hand in his.
A jolt of awareness passed through her as he wrapped his warm hand around hers.
She looked up into his eyes, helpless.
He gazed down at her, the tension between them mounting.
“Let’s go,” Grandma Stevenson said brightly.
Ryan smiled down at Addison and they headed up to Pumpkinland.
“Wow, this is amazing,” Addison said as they cleared the hillside and Pumpkinland came into full view.
“The Harkness family goes all out with Halloween decorations each year,” Grandma Stevenson explained. “They keep them up through Thanksgiving weekend, so everyone can enjoy them. And I suspect so that Kate’s kids can feel like their hard work is on display for a good long time.”
“How many kids does she have?” Addison asked, looking out over the huge display.
There were witches and vampires, a field of pretend headstones, a rag doll leaning on a giant pumpkin and all kinds of wooden painted cutouts for taking photos. Happy tourists wandered around, snapping shots as their little ones scampered around squealing at the scene.
“How many kids does Kate Harkness have?” Grandma Stevenson mused. “That is a good question. If we bump into her we’ll have to ask and see if she remembers.”
Addison looked at the older woman quizzically.
“Kate is a foster mom,” Ryan explained. “She’s taken care of so many kids over the years the rest of us can’t keep track, but I’ll bet you anything she knows exactly how many.”
“Quite right,” Grandma Stevenson said. “Kate has a good heart.”
“Hey there, can I help you find anything?” someone asked.
“Hi there, Hannah,” Ryan said. “We were just talking about your mom. Is she around today?”
“Of course,” the girl replied. “I’m not sure where though. She likes to float when we have a busy day. She calls it troubleshooting.”
The girl appeared to be about high school age. Addison gave her a smile, which was returned immediately.
“We’ll find her sooner or later, dear,” Grandma Stevenson said. “We just wanted to say hello. What are you up to today?”
“I was supposed to be studying, but since I got an A on my math test Mom let me volunteer for greeter duty,” Hannah replied happily. “Everyone knows what they’re here for so mostly I’m taking pictures for people. Want me to take a picture of you three?”
“Good job on the math test,” Ryan said.
“Yes, we’d love a photograph,” Grandma Stevenson said. “What a nice idea! Let me find my phone.”
She rummaged around in her hand bag a moment, then produced an old flip-style cell phone.
“Here you are,” she said, pressing a few buttons and handing it over.
Hannah took the phone and held it up, looking at it as if it were an ancient relic.
Grandma Stevenson came over to stand between Addison and Ryan, and then wrapped an arm around Addison. Ryan wrapped his around his grandmother.
“Smile,” Hannah instructed.
Addison smiled and hoped the picture would bring the older woman joy.
“Okay,” Hannah said, handing the phone back. “Have fun today. My brother-in-law is driving the hay ride, if you feel like a tour of the farm.”
“Great, Hannah,” Ryan said. “Thank you.”
She gave them a little wave and then dashed off to greet the next guest.
“So, pumpkins?” Ryan asked.
“Yes,” Grandma Stevenson said. “A nice big one this year, I think.”
“Most people do pumpkins at Halloween,” Ryan said. “But we like to have a few small ones as our centerpiece for Thanksgiving, and another big fresh one for the front porch.”
“That sounds really nice,” Addison said.
Her family made a big deal out of Thanksgiving too, but it usually had more to do with the food than the decor.
“Do you have any special Thanksgiving traditions in your family, Addison?” Grandma Stevenson asked.
“Yes,” Addison smiled. “There’s a sort of unspoken stuffing competition among my relatives.”
“Who wins?” Ryan asked.
“Well, there’s no declared winner,” Addison said. “My mother makes cornbread stuffing and my aunt makes pineapple. And my brother makes Stouffer’s. And then everyone watches to see which one has the most leftovers.”
“Which one do you like best?” Ryan asked.
“Officially? My mother’s, of course,” Addison said. “But off the record - definitely the pineapple.”
Ryan laughed.
“You should ask your aunt for the recipe,” Grandma Stevenson suggested. “Then you and Ryan can make it for us.”
“Good idea,” Addison said. “I probably won’t get another chance to do Thanksgiving away from home.”
“Really?” Grandma Stevenson asked. “You and Ryan plan to have all your holidays with your family?”
Shoot.
“Oh no,“ Addison said. “Not necessarily. It’s just that I’ll bet my mother will want to join us wherever we have our holiday next year, and I’m sure she’ll bring her cornbread stuffing.”
“That’s nice dear,” Grandma Stevenson said, sounding placated. She bent to examine a few large pumpkins.
Thank you, Ryan mouthed over her head.
Addison smiled back at him.
“This one, I t
hink,” Grandma Stevenson said, tapping on a huge orange pumpkin.
“Yes,” Ryan said. “That’s the one. Addison?”
“Oh yes,” Addison agreed.
Grandma Stevenson snagged another Harkness kid, who obligingly put a sticker on the pumpkin to reserve it.
“We’ll come back and pick it up when we’re ready to leave,” Ryan explained.
“Excellent,” Grandma Stevenson said, brushing off her palms on her skirt.
“Now what?” Ryan asked. “Feed the animals?”
“Didn’t the child say something about a hay ride?” Grandma Stevenson asked.
“Are you sure?” Ryan asked her.
Addison looked at the elderly woman in her nice skirt and wondered how she would manage.
“Of course,” Grandma Stevenson said. “It will give us a good chance to get to know each other.”
A shiver of dread went down Addison’s spine, but she took a deep breath and managed to calm herself. She would tell the truth about herself. The only thing she was lying about was being engaged to Ryan. This should be easy.
Ryan jogged ahead and handed some bills to the tall handsome man at the tractor.
Addison walked along slowly next to Grandma Stevenson.
When they reached the tractor, Ryan took his grandmother’s arm and helped her up the stairs and onto the hay covered trailer bed. Then he turned and offered Addison his hand.
She took it, reveling again in the feel of his skin against hers.
They sat in the hay across from Grandma Stevenson, who had her legs tucked primly under her.
Other families began to board, and the flatbed trailer quickly became crowded.
A couple with a baby was at the end of the group boarding and they looked up hopefully to see if there was room.
“Sit here?” Ryan offered Addison, patting the space between his legs.
Addison felt the blood rushing to her cheeks, but she moved into his arms, to the immediate gratitude of the couple with the baby who sat next to them.
“Thanks so much,” the husband said.
“No worries,” Ryan told him through gritted teeth.
Addison was speechless, her senses filled with Ryan. His big warm body encircled hers.