“Thanks, pal,” the guy looking for peaches says and heads outside. As the questions die down, I turn my focus back to Alyson, and once again, my heart thumps.
“You okay?” I shove my hands into the front pocket of my sweater and inch closer.
“Perfectly fine,” she lies, and I curse under my breath, because she’s not perfectly fine. She’s a hot mess, fighting back tears, and any second now, I expect her to collapse under the weight of all this. Those fancy-ass shoe straps are blistering her feet, and those too-high heels are done holding her up.
But that’s what I want, right? That’s what it’s going to take to smarten her up and send her packing.
“You want some help?” I ask.
Yeah, okay. I might be a lot of things, but goddammit, I’m not a total prick.
“I just had help.” She covers her mouth to stifle a yawn. “Your brother Beck was here earlier. Did you send him over?”
“No.”
A boy with ice cream all over his face lets loose an ungodly cry that could shake the fruit right off the trees when a bag of apples falls and lands on his foot. Alyson’s eyes go wide, and I swear to God I can hear her elevated blood pressure rushing through her veins. My stomach plummets as she works to stave off a panic attack.
I drop to one knee. “Hey, bud,” I say and snatch an apple from the bag. “Do you know what kind of apple this is?”
He wipes his eyes and sniffs. “No,” he whimpers.
“It’s a magic apple,” I say, and his lips quirk. I steal a glance at Alyson, and the smile she aims my way, the gratitude in her eyes, nearly steals the air from my lungs.
“Watch this.”
I take the apple, switch it back and forth between my hands, and slide it into the front pocket of my hoodie. I hold both hands open and the boy grins. I move my hands around again, get him to focus on one as I pull the apple from my pocket and reach around him, pretending to take it from his ear.
“Look what I found,” I say, and he covers both ears and chuckles. I glance at Alyson again and she mouths the words, “Thank you.” My lips curl into a smile, and I try to balance myself as the warmth in her eyes throws me off a little.
“What do you think of that, Hudson?” his mother asks.
I shine the apple on my sweater and hand it to the boy. “For you,” I say. He captures it in his small hands, and I push to my feet. This time, I don’t ask Alyson if she needs anything. Instead, I grab a stool, step behind the counter, and set it down. I point to it, but she hesitates.
“Sit,” I say. “Before you fall.”
I get a whiff of her sweet scent and try not to think about the way it messes with my body as she gives a little nod and drops onto the stool. I take her place at the register, answering questions about the fruit and orchard. For the next half hour, I help out, and when the rush dies down, I turn to find her rubbing her sore feet.
She smiles at me, and my damn heart loses its steady rhythm—again.
“Thank you, Jay.” She jumps from the stool and tries to hide a wince. “I’ve taken up enough of your time today.”
“You sure you got this?”
She nods. “Oh, one thing. Where can I buy nails and a hammer?”
I stare at her, not sure whether to tell her or not. She’s liable to hurt herself, but I can’t keep coming to her rescue, right? “What do you need those for?”
“The handrail outside is loose. I don’t want some child tugging on it and falling off the ramp. I’d never forgive myself if someone got hurt.” She crinkles her nose and stares at the floor. It’s so nice that she cares. For a moment, I forget she’s not a local. “Wouldn’t that just get me an…I told you so.”
“What?”
Her hair whips across her face as she shakes her head, the distant look in her eyes gone. “I just mean I have a ton to learn and do around here, but I think that’s something I can tackle first. One thing at a time, right?” As I take in her uncertainty, my goddamn stomach tightens, and I open my mouth, about to offer to do it, when she holds her hand