The fall of us, p.12
The Fall of Us, page 12
“He’s always been one of the friendliest, kindest people I’ve ever known. The man wouldn’t harm a fly and would give anyone the shirt off his back in the middle of a snowstorm if they needed it. That’s just how he’s always been.”
“Hard to believe he’s not married.”
Just as I’m about to speak, my cousin Jessa plops down on the other side of me. I nearly knock Oakley off the edge, then hurry and catch her while keeping hold of the canvas.
“Jessa!” I growl, turning toward her.
“Oops, sorry,” Jessa hurries to help Oakley, who’s laughing at her antics. “I didn’t realize I had so much oomph in my trunk.”
“It’s fine. I think I need to find a bathroom, though,” Oakley admits, and I can tell she’s growing more nervous.
“The inn will be your best bet,” I tell her. “Do you want me to walk you?”
“No, it’s fine. I’ll be right back.”
I watch as she walks away, then when I turn to Jessa, she’s grinning like a fool.
“You’re in love with her.”
I make a face. “What?”
“Dude, it’s so ridiculously obvious. Tell me… is this girlfriend act real or fake?”
“Shush,” I say, looking around, making sure no one is within earshot because she’s being loud as fuck. “It’s whatever you want it to be since you’re apparently the expert.”
“I knew it.”
I groan. “Sometimes you’re overly annoying.”
“And sometimes you’re extremely transparent. I need the real story. Did you set this fake dating scheme up on purpose?”
“If I could pull that off, I’d have already won the lottery or robbed a diamond shaft. Come on, Jessa. Give me a break. None of this was planned. I didn’t know Aspen’s spaceship was invading the farm this week.”
She snorts at my comment, then gets all serious. “And they say you’ll meet the love of your life when you least expect it.”
“It’s not like those books you read. Trust me.” Then I remember Oakley’s audiobook and almost take it back. It’s exactly like that.
“We’ll see. I’d almost be willing to make a bet you two end up together,” she singsongs.
“A bet?”
“Yeah. When is Oakley leaving again?”
“Monday,” I confirm.
“Well, I’m betting she doesn’t,” Jessa states with confidence rolling off her, and I can’t stand it when she acts like a know-it-all.
“She already has her plane ticket booked, Jessa. Don’t shake on things you won’t pay up on.”
“If you’re so confident, then let’s shake on it. Two hundred bucks.”
“Two hundred? Pfft. Double it and you have a deal.”
“Double that and then it’s a deal. Unless you’re too scared, of course.” Jessa holds out her hand and waits for me to take it.
“You’re being way too cocky. She’s not staying,” I say, grabbing it and shaking hard.
“You better pay up when you lose.” Jessa grins confidently. I see Silas waving her over, and she nods.
“I should feel guilty for taking your money, but I’ll be too busy swimming in fifties,” I say before she walks away.
She snorts. “We’ll see.”
A few minutes later, Oakley returns. “Sometimes when I get super nervous, my bladder rebels.”
I grab her hand. “Good to know. Hey, what time does your flight leave on Monday? Don’t think you’ve told me.”
She frowns. “Seven. I’m supposed to be there at five. I’m sorry.”
“Nah, it’s fine. Happy to take you.” I smile, knowing Jessa is fucked and will have to pay up.
Oakley looks around as more people take the empty seats. I hand her the painting she made for my grandmother and wrap my arm around her shoulder.
Fifteen minutes later, the band finishes their first set and my aunt and uncle, parents, and grandparents walk up on stage. My mother taps the microphone.
“Hello? Whoa. Wow. Hot mic. We just wanted to thank you from the bottom of our hearts for coming to our family’s centennial celebration. It’s our honor to be able to thank you for one hundred years of business.” Mom waves over my aunt, who shakes her head, so Grandma steps up.
“Yes, thank you so very much. My parents had always dreamed of owning an apple orchard, and my father hand planted the first trees himself. Without the decades of support from the community, we wouldn’t have lasted this long.” She continues with more history about the farm, and although she’s repeated it dozens of times, I still enjoy hearing her describe the hardships and successes.
I turn around and take pictures of everyone who’s here. At least eight hundred people are in attendance, maybe even more. While Grandma speaks, kids play in the field, chasing one another.
“So while you’re all here and enjoying yourselves, I wanted to share something that I’ve dreamed of having for years. It’s something that we can all cherish. Oakley?” Grandma calls out, scanning through the crowd. She blocks her eyes from the sun with her hand, and Oakley stands and waves. “Come up here, sweetheart. I’d like for you to do the honors.”
I grin. “Go ahead.”
She makes her way up and meets my grandma on stage.
“I first learned about Oakley Benson’s work online. Yes, before any of you say anything, I know how to use a computer,” Grandma adds, and laughter breaks out. “Anyway, I emailed her and nearly begged for her to come out and paint a scene for the farm. She’s also dating my grandson.”
My cheeks heat. This is not what I expected her to do.
“Stand up, Finn! Wave at everyone.”
I force a smile and do as she says. Oakley beams as she moves closer to the microphone. She clears her throat, and I can see her blood pumping hard by the pulse in her neck. It’s adorable to see her so nervous.
“Mrs. Bennett. Before the big reveal, I’d like to give you a small gift, a thank you for giving me a chance.”
Grandma looks surprised as Oakley hands her the small canvas. Instant tears roll down her face, just as I expected. As my aunt and mom surrounded Grandma, Oakley takes the opportunity to pull the sheet from the large painting.
The audience breaks out in applause and gives her a standing ovation. Oakley’s overwhelmed by everyone’s reaction as she wipes her cheeks. My entire family grows emotional as they admire the painting. Even my grandpa has tears rolling down his face. The fact that she was able to paint something so realistic in such a short amount of time proves how incredible of an artist she is.
“I think I’m actually speechless,” Grandma finally says, and the crowd laughs. She thanks everyone for coming again and hordes of people move closer to the stage to look at Oakley’s masterpiece.
Several people ask her for business cards as she makes her way toward me, but she directs them to her Instagram page for all her contact information. When Oakley fights her way to me, she’s all smiles as she falls into my arms.
“They loved it,” I confirm.
“I’m so happy they did.”
“Me too,” I admit, realizing it’s something I haven’t felt in a long-ass time.
“Ready for that hayride I promised earlier?” I ask, and she reaches for my hand.
“Absolutely!”
As we make our way past the crowd, chatting about Grandma telling everyone we were dating, we’re interrupted.
“Oakley Benson?” a voice I recognize shouts above the chatter.
We both turn toward it, and I realize it’s Mayor Myers running toward us.
“Apologies for yelling your name like that, but I wanted to catch you before you left.” He sucks in air, then continues, “We’re having a town fall festival next weekend to commemorate autumn. We just held an emergency board meeting since everyone was here, and we’d like you to paint for us next weekend.”
Oakley’s eyes go wide, and for a moment, I think she’s lost her words.
“Please. Money isn’t an issue,” he adds as he waits.
That’s when I remember that damn bet I made with Jessa and know she’s somehow behind this. Fucking cheater.
Oakley looks at me, and I hope with every inch of my being that she’ll say yes even though I’ll be in the hole eight hundred bucks. But I don’t care. I’d empty my savings for another week with her. Call me selfish but I’m not ready for her to leave yet. Not when each time I look at her, my heart skips a damn beat.
A few seconds pass as the mayor and I wait with bated breath for her answer. And for a moment, when she hesitates, I’m afraid she’ll say no.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
OAKLEY
The mayor’s question catches me off guard because I’ve been mentally preparing to leave this whole time on Monday. Though it’d be a huge honor.
“I’d love to take the job, but I don’t have a place to stay, and my flight leaves on Monday,” I finally answer. The last thing I’d want to do is impose on Finn’s space because I’ve already done that enough over the past ten days. He doesn’t seem to mind, but I can’t assume he’d be okay with me prolonging my trip by another week.
Finn furrows his brow at me, but I’m not sure how to read him. My fate is in his hands.
“There’s room for you here if your schedule allows it,” Finn tells me, his signature boyish grin sweeping across his handsome face.
“Are you absolutely sure?” I ask with uncertainty, hoping he’s not being nice for the sake of it. Aspen will be leaving, so I could move back into the cottage if needed.
“I’ll cover the cost of changing your return flight. Oh, pardon my manners, I’m Edward Myers, and I’ve been leading this town for the past fifteen years. Willa spoke so highly of you, and I can’t get over how amazing the farm painting is. You’re truly talented. Of course, I’d give you full creative liberties to paint whatever you’d like. It will be hung in the entryway of the town hall for everyone to enjoy.”
I look between him and Finn, swallowing hard. “That sounds perfect. I’d be happy to paint it for you.”
Edward’s mouth turns up into a big smile, and he shakes both of our hands. “Thank you. Thank you so much. Here’s my card. If you need anything, please do not hesitate to reach out. I’ll send you an official contract tonight if you can give me your email address.”
Oakley writes it down in a small pocket size notebook he had tucked in his shirt.
“We’d like the imagery to be centered around the harvest festival. That’s the only requirement. Starts on Thursday.”
“I can’t wait to check it out. Appreciate the opportunity to do the town justice,” I tell him, not caring how much they’re paying. Spending more time with Finn is worth any dollar amount.
When he walks away, Finn grabs my hand and kisses my knuckles.
“When Aspen leaves, I’ll be happy to move my things back to the cottage if you—”
“Absolutely not. You’re staying with me, Sunshine,” he says with a sly grin. “The last thing I’m doing is moving all that shit again.”
I snort. “Don’t blame you. Now I’m glad I haven't packed anything.”
We laugh as Finn leads me toward the wagon taking people on an orchard tour. When I turn my head, I notice Aspen watching us from the perimeter of the area. I give her a smile, but she turns her head and pretends she wasn’t watching us.
Finn helps me take the step up, and it feels like an eternity has passed since we took the first tour together. When he sits, I use his lap instead of taking a seat next to him. He wraps his strong arms around my waist, and I turn my body so I can easily chat with him. I like the way he holds me, but it doesn’t feel like it’s for show anymore.
“Aspen’s watching,” I whisper in his ear.
“I swear she’s stalking us.”
Once the wagon is full, the tractor takes us around the orchard. Finn points out the different trees, and I love listening to him talk about the farm. Some were cross-pollinated to make new species, and others came from the original harvest a hundred years ago.
Finn keeps me in place as the tractor takes a turn down another bumpy road. I can feel him growing hard under my ass, and it’s taking me back to the first time we did this. I slightly turn my body, creating a little more friction, and he digs his thumbs in my hips.
Turning my head, I whisper in his ear, “We should leave after this.”
“Not sure we’ll make it off this wagon if you keep making me hard.” He nibbles on my earlobe, and I squeeze my legs together.
After everyone’s picked a few apples, we get back on the wagon and make our way back. As we offload, I miss a step and fall into his arms, laughing. He catches me and spins me around.
“Sure am glad you were there,” I admit.
Finn sets me down and tucks hair behind my ear. “I’m glad you’re here and are staying longer.”
“Really? I thought you’d be getting sick of me,” I tease.
“You’re starting to grow on me.” Then he leans in and whispers, “Actually, I can’t get enough of you.”
We pass by kids bobbing for apples. There’s a timer and the one who gets the most wins a prize. I love how they have different activities for the little ones, most of whom carry at least one prized stuffed animal.
“I’ve never done that before,” I tell Finn as we watch.
“Do you know where it originates?” Finn asks.
“No idea.”
He steps close. “It started in Europe and was used to figure out if two people were meant to be lovers.”
I narrow my eyes. “You’re totally making this up.”
“I swear, I’m not. It’s how they determined their soulmates. They’d put several apples in a bucket, each one representing a potential partner. Women would bob for their crush’s apple. If she accomplished it on her first try, it meant they were soul mates and were destined to be together forever. If it took her two tries, it was known that they’d date for a while, but it wouldn’t work out. Three tries? Just forget it.”
I chuckle. “Can you imagine building your entire relationship on crunching into an apple on the first try. That’s hilarious and seems ridiculously hard.”
“It is hard, and it’s a true story. At some point, they changed it to figure out who’d get married first. There also used to be an old superstition that if you slept with the first apple you bobbed under your pillow, that night, you’d see the love of your life in your dreams.”
This makes me snort. “That’s wild.”
“I know. Wanna try it?”
“Nah, I think I’m gonna pass on that one. But wait, that looks fun.” I point at the children a few tables down with fishing poles. Each has a rod with a magnet attached and is trying to catch apples in a field. Each fruit has a number written on the side of it.
“What’s the objective?” I ask.
“They let people ‘fish’ for two minutes, and the person who racks up the most points wins a prize.”
“Cute.”
“You really wanna play? Unless you’re scared of getting your ass kicked.”
I playfully gasp. “Never. You’re on.”
After the current participants finish and a little girl chooses a teddy bear, Finn and I step up.
“Thanks, Charlotte,” Finn says to the woman who explains the rules. She looks like his mother’s age and has a kind smile.
Charlotte counts down, starts the timer, then Finn and I get to work. Right off the bat, he snags three points. I’ve never wanted to win so badly at something, but I’ve never been the competitive type, hence the painting. When I glance over and see his pile stacked next to him, I know it’s a losing battle, but I don’t give up.
I didn’t realize how heavy apples are to pull in. I’d have better luck actually fishing.
The timer buzzes, and my three points look ridiculous compared to his fourteen.
“You’re well practiced.” I pout with an arm on my hip. “Probably were doing this in the womb.”
“Guess I’ll stick with apples, and you stick with painting.” He shoots me a wink, then leads me to the prize table. “Lady’s choice.”
There’s a stuffed apple with a heart embroidered on it, and I pick it up and squeeze it. “Thank you.”
“Anything for my girl.” He brushes his lips to mine. I melt into his kiss, and when he lightly slides his tongue against mine, a burst of heat rushes through me. I grab the hem of his shirt with my free hand, wanting to get lost in him.
“Okay, I gotta use the bathroom, then we can get outta here if you want,” I tell him when we break apart.
Finn walks with me to the inn, and I hand him my stuffed apple before going inside. I have to maneuver around a crowd of people talking, then wait ten minutes for a turn.
Once I’ve washed my hands, I walk back outside but stop in my tracks when I see Finn talking to Aspen. He looks less than pleased, as if she cornered him when she found him alone.
I wait in the distance and hate that I’m jealous when Aspen places her hand on Finn’s arm.
She looks like she’s pleading with him, but he keeps a straight face. It’s obvious that whatever she’s saying is important to her, but he’s brushing it off. After another minute passes, I make my way over.
Finn leans down and plants a kiss on my lips. “Thank God,” he murmurs so only I can hear.
“You ready?” I ask loudly.
“Yep. Are we finished here?” he barks at Aspen. I remember when he used to act that way toward me. That’s him building an unscalable wall around himself.
“Finn, please,” she urges. “You can’t deny what we shared for five years. No one can change that.” As she emphasizes her words, she glances at me. Then she bravely takes a step and reaches out for him. He leans back, avoiding her touch.
His tone grows colder. “It’s over. It’s been over, Aspen. I’m in love with Oakley, so go back to your fiancé.”
My heart thuds at how easy that spewed from his mouth.
It’s not real. It’s not real. It’s not real.
I remind myself over and over.
“I can’t believe this.” She looks like she’s trying to cry, but nothing comes out. She wipes fake tears before storming away. I’m so confused about what the hell just happened.
