Page 102 of Forbidden to Fall

Even though he’d driven to the festival yesterday, we took my truck—which was his truck. He drove, but he didn’t let go of my hand, which meant shifting with his left hand, something he managed to do without crashing by steering with his knee.

It might’ve been the most attractive thing I’d ever seen.

I’d done a lot of early mornings at Keller’s, but this was my first time doing a dawn shift at the sugar shack. James put on music, and for the next four hours, we baked. We were 100% focused. No hand brushes or stolen kisses, none of James standing right behind me with his cheek pressed against my hair, no doubling over laughing when a bubble of flour in the mixer popped in James’s face.

Or at least not much of that.

Around 7:30, we walked to the truck to part ways because we both needed to get ready. The way James kissed me against the truck had me lightheaded all the way home. The knowledge that I’d have to spend the entire day without him made me feel like an angsty teen again.

Mrs. Keller and Morgan were already in the bakery when I came down to replace the stuff James and I had moved out of the rain last night. I blinked away the image of him lifting me onto the counter because it made me feel like I might pass out.

Given the rain, things were a bit late getting off the ground, but I didn’t mind. It gave me more time to get set up.

My parents showed up around eleven and bought a maple cinnamon sticky bun to share, then made their way to the farm booth. It was probably a good thing I couldn’t see it from where I was since my nerves made my stomach feel like the sea in a storm. I wanted so badly for them to like James again.

The day cleared up, offering blue skies and sun, which dried up the damp pavement—my one anchor to last night. With James out of sight, it was too easy to feel like I’d dreamed it all up.

“Hey.”

I turned around and found Morgan walking toward me.

She smiled. “How’s it going?”

“It’s going,” I said. “How about inside?”

She shrugged. “It’s been pretty slow. I think most people are coming here instead. I thought maybe I could spell you for a bit—let you walk around.”

By walk around, did she mean make a beeline for the maple farm booth? Because that was what I’d be doing.

“That’s really nice of you,” I said. “I won’t be gone too long.”

“Take your time!”

I made an effort to browse a couple of the nearby booths for her benefit, but when the crowds swallowed me from view, I headed for the Carver booth.

It was just James there, and he had his hands full boxing up orders. He’d been nice to transport the fruits of our early-morning labors.

I slipped behind the booth and started helping him without a word.

He glanced over at me, and a smile lit his eyes.

James Carver’s eyes lit up. For me.

It was like living in an alternate reality. Or my teenage fantasy.

We worked side by side—maybe more than the situation actually required—for a few minutes. As long as I could justify to Morgan.

James’s fingers intertwined with mine as he placed two blondies in a box at the same time as I put a cream puff in.

I glanced up at him, and he winked at me.

I looked up to see whether Mrs. Perry had noticed, but my gaze snagged on someone a dozen feet behind her, standing in line for a different booth.

Ryan.

He was watching me, his hand holding Mia’s and Lily’s.

My stomach dropped into my boots as our gazes met. We weren’t near, but the look of betrayal in his eyes was crystal clear.