Chapter Twelve
Linnea hadn’t expected Nat to stay all evening, but she was glad he had. Not only had the stroll been too busy for one person to deal with all the orders, but he’d been good company, making the hours fly by, sometimes Linnea had found herself laughing helplessly in a way she hadn’t for a long, long time. Now the streets were beginning to empty, she turned to him, knowing she needed to thank him and let him get on with his weekend. “Thanks so much, Nat…”
“Let me tidy up.” Her mother materialized at her side, the truck keys in her hand, “Your father has taken the girls home. You go and do whatever it is young people do when the stroll winds down.”
“Mom, there’s far too much for one person to do,” Linnea protested, even as her heart gave a skip of relief.
“Your cousin’s on his way to help. Shoo. Go. Have fun. It’s Saturday night and Christmas has begun. Live a little, Linnea. You deserve to.”
Linnea turned to Nat, suddenly a little shy. “You don’t have to wait around.”
“You mean you’re happy for me to do all the work, but not reap the rewards?” Nat shook his head, his eyes gleaming under the street lamps. “I always knew you were a hard woman, Linnea Olsen.”
“That’s not what I meant and you know it. Okay, Nat Hathaway. What do you want to do?”
“Walk?” He suggested and she nodded.
“That sounds good. I’d like to see the lights.”
She kissed her mother, grabbed her bag, and left the stall, her heart hammering with an anticipation she didn’t want to name, to acknowledge. By an unspoken consensus they turned right and began to wander down Main Street, their steps in perfect unison.
“That was fun,” Nat said after a while. “I’ve never done anything like that before.”
“You’re a natural, if the music doesn’t work out give me a call and I’ll give you a job.” She turned to him. “But seriously? You’ve never been a waiter or tended bar or worked retail? I thought all musicians and actors spent their downtime working those kinds of jobs.”
“I’ve always picked up enough sessions to get by, and of course there was always a space for me with The Copper Mountain Trip if other work dried up, perks of having parents in the business.”
“Wow. How the other half live. I was picking apples at five, rang up my first sale at eleven. It was good though, doing the stroll again. I always loved the buzz.”
“What about running the orchard? Do you love that? No regrets about coming back”
Linnea paused. It wasn’t a question she had ever asked herself. She’d asked herself if she could, if she should, but not if she wanted to.
“Ten years ago, I would have said it was too small. Whatever I did I wanted it to be global. To work internationally. My job with Logan’s parents was heading up their digital marketing team, they have a ton of motels and small business hotels, so not quite international, but my work still covered several states. Now, here I am with one small orchard, one small distillery. It could feel like a step backward, I guess.”
“Does it?”
“You know…” The words were surprising her as she said them. “It really doesn’t. I have big plans. It’s a challenge, all right. But to be part of this community, it actually feels right.” As she said the words, it was as if a burden had been lifted, one she didn’t even know she was carrying. “I had to adjust all my goals when I got pregnant anyway. Getting married at twenty was never part of my life plan, as you know.”
“I remember.” His voice was quiet and, with a jolt, Linnea remembered the look on Nat’s face when he had suggested that maybe they try and stay in touch, that the end of the school year needn’t be the end of them and how she had laughed it off, reminding him how different their lives were going to be. Not wanting to be tied down by anyone. Terrified by how much she had wanted to agree. To hold on to him. Without thinking she slid her hand into his and after a pause his fingers closed around hers, strong and so familiar her heart nearly burst.
“Fancy a hay ride?”
Linnea blinked at the sudden change of subject. “A hayride? Seriously? What are we, eight?”
Nat came to a sudden halt and turned, his gaze focused on her, heat smoldering in his eyes. “Ah, but this is a moonlit hayride. That is a very different proposition.”
Linnea’s stomach dropped at the intensity in Nat’s voice, in his gaze, in the way his hand tightened on hers.
“What do you say, Linnea?” His voice was husky and her heart began to beat faster.
“Okay.” She couldn’t manage much more as they started to walk, still in unison, still hand in hand, until they reached the sign that, in snowy conditions, proclaimed sleigh rides, but today advertised hayrides. Two horses were already drawn up, their noses steaming in the cold, harnessed to a small wagon heaped with hay. Linnea couldn’t help herself, heading straight to their warm, soft noses to say hello.
“Who is beautiful?” she asked reaching up to scratch between the long ears.
“Do you want me to leave you three alone or can anyone join in?” Nat asked. “We could stay here and whisper sweet nothings to the horses all evening, but the driver is ready to go.”
“I haven’t any treats, but I will bring you some.” Linnea promised the horses, allowing Nat to lead her away and help her up the step and settle her onto the soft, but scratchy hay, before swinging himself up and sitting next to her.
He’d barely sat down when the driver set the horses off on a trot down the road which led to the lake.
“Why isn’t he waiting for anyone else?” Linnea looked back at the line beginning to build by the sign. “There’s room for plenty more people on here.”
“Because I paid him for a private ride,” Nat said softly.
Linnea swallowed, her heart swelling in her chest, with anticipation, with desire, with fear. “Nat…”
“Don’t worry. I don’t want you to think I lured you out here to make some move on you. I just wanted some time alone. We always seem to be surrounded by people. But we can turn back if you want.”
“That’s a shame.” Linnea gathered all the courage she had. “I wouldn’t mind if you did put the moves on me.” She slid a look his way. “Is that what the crazy kids are calling it these days?”
The rumble of his laughter reverberated through her. “We’re on a hayride. It seemed appropriate. But, Linnea. I don’t want you to feel…”
“But I do want to feel, Nat. I’m out of practice at this. I have dated two men in my entire life. One I married and the other is sitting right here next to me. I need to think about moving on with my life, about dating, and I have no idea where to start.”
His face was unreadable in the moonlight and she carried on, gathering all her courage into her hands. Words she would never have said in the safety of her home, or in a restaurant, were sayable here in the hay wagon, when the only sound was the thud of the horses’ feet and the jangling of their bridles.
“I trust you, Nat. I trusted you before and I trust you now. My heart is safe with you. And you’re leaving. There’s no chance I can get in too deep, no chance that we’ll go too far too fast when I’m not ready. There’s an end date and maybe that’s what I need.”
“I’m the transition guy?” he said softly, his expression still strangely blank.
“You’re my first love and I’m still attracted to you but, more importantly, I like you. And I’m pretty that you like me, and even though I’m not a superstar singer, I think you’re attracted to me…” She was running out of words, running out of courage now.
The hay rustled as he turned towards her, tilting her chin with one calloused hand, his gaze serious in the moonlight. “Are you sure? It’s not too much, not too soon?”
“I loved my husband, Nat. But he died several years ago. I moved back to Marietta to start again. In every way. It’s a moonlit night and the stars are shining down on us. It seems a shame to waste such an opportunity.”
Nearly three years since she had been kissed, since she had kissed. Three years since an arm had slipped around her shoulders and pulled her in close, three years since her stomach clenched in delicious anticipation, since her mouth had parted, her breath coming faster and faster. Ten years since Nat Hathaway had stared at her with that intoxicating mix of desire and need. Since his mouth had closed on hers and she had leaned into him with a sigh.
She needed this, she deserved this, whatever it was. However little time they had. She had been too scared to tell him how she felt before, too afraid to admit to either of them what she wanted. She wasn’t going to make that mistake again.
Nat hesitated for one long second, his hand still cupping her face, the callouses on his fingers deliciously rough against her skin. Linnea looked fearlessly up at him, caught in the hypnotic gaze of his navy blue eyes, her stomach twisting with need, her heart hammering so loudly she couldn’t hear the horses’ hooves. All she saw, all she felt was him.
And then he leaned in, his mouth capturing hers with a deft sweetness that made her lose her breath, her hands encircling his neck as she pulled him closer, deepening the kiss. Her breasts crushed against the hardness of his chest, but she still wasn’t close enough, she wanted to be subsumed by him as his kiss consumed her, his mouth sure and knowing, his arms holding her tight.
It was just a kiss, but there was no just about this. It was a kiss imbued with the bittersweetness of ten years apart, a kiss rich with experiences shared, a kiss dizzying with the promise of more to come. Linnea curled her fingers into Nat’s hair, wiggling closer still, not wanting the kiss to stop, the evening to end, wanting this moment out of time to last as long as possible. Because in the cold light of day, with her responsibilities once again on her shoulders, she didn’t know if she would dare be this bold. But tonight she was bold and wanting and wanted and that was enough for now.