Page 55 of Resisting the Fall

With no other reason to delay, Finn and I followed him into the chilly morning air. When he opened the truck door, Finn jumped in, then I slid through to the middle seat. Just to make sure the passenger seatbelt hadn’t magically fixed itself in the night, I gave it a tug. Still stuck. “You really need to get that fixed.”

He climbed in and handed me the plate. To my delight, the bottom of it was still warm. While Ben started the truck, I eagerly unwrapped the burrito, putting it to my lips, but then paused. Was this retaliation for dinner last night? Nothing had smelled burned this morning. Had he done something else to it?

I lowered the burrito and glanced over at him.

He grinned, like he had been waiting for me to realize the irony of the situation. “It’s just a breakfast burrito.”

“How much hot sauce did you add?”

“To yours? None.” His smirk was far from reassuring.

I studied the tortilla. It didn’t look like there were any spots saturated with hot sauce. Plus, it smelled too amazing not to risk it. Cautiously, I took a small bite. I nearly moaned with pleasure at the taste of eggs, melted cheese, potatoes, bacon, and sauteed peppers. On the second bite, I didn’t hold back, shoving as much in as I could fit in my mouth.

I could feel Ben watching me out of the corner of his eyes. “Good?”

My mouth brimmed with half-chewed burrito. “Sooo good.”

He wore a self-satisfied smile, and though I didn’t want to stroke his overly large ego, I had to give it to him. Plus, he’d know I was lying if I’d said otherwise. Especially with the record speed with which I polished off every last bit, besides one piece of bacon I reluctantly gave to Finn.

We left the town limits, winding through the tree-covered roads in the early morning light. A thin fog clung to the ground, and with the way the fall foliage encompassed the road, it was like a tunnel made of changing leaves stretched on indefinitely above us. It was breathtaking. It also reminded me of all the times Ben and I had driven these roads in the fall. Me sitting right next to him, just like I was at the moment. Except so much had changed.

At the reminder, I scooted a touch closer to Finn. Not that it did much good. Ben was close enough that I could smell him, and he smelled…

My smile came out in full force. With the overwhelming aroma of bacon in the trailer and the burrito once we’d gotten in the truck, I hadn’t noticed his scent. “You smell so good, Ben. What is it?” I leaned in, sniffing him. “Apple blossoms?”

He gripped the steering wheel with both hands, pulling in a slow, seemingly intentional breath. “First switching out my hand soap, and now my shampoo and body wash? Do you have no limits?”

“I might, but I haven’t found them yet.”

“Which is exactly why you’ve lost the privilege of being in the fifth wheel while I’m gone. Between that, reorganizing my stuff, and…”

“And what?” He couldn’t have figured out about the women’s clothing catalogs I’d requested in his name yet. Maybe he’d noticed that none of his pens and pencils worked because I’d covered the tips with clear nail polish?

“You sewed the flies closed on my boxer briefs.”

I barely held in my laughter. “You don’t seem impressed. I’ll have you know it was exceptionally tricky lining up the fabric just right so that the stitching wouldn’t be a dead giveaway.”

“I’ll have to let my mom know how good you are with a needle. She might put you to work on the quilt she’s making Jaxon and Landrie for their wedding.”

At the mention of the wedding, my smile dimmed slightly. “I can’t believe Jaxon’s getting married.”

“I know. It’s less than two weeks away now.”

My chest tightened at the reminder. The Walkers had been a second family to me, even before Ben finally reciprocated my long-held feelings for him and we started dating. I had grown up with them. Jaxon was six when we’d first met. So when my mom called me to say Jaxon and Landrie were getting married, I cried for two days straight. Hearing news like that through the grapevine seemed to solidify my position as an outsider. Which, all things considered, made sense. But it still hurt in a physical, gut-wrenching way. “I’m so happy for them.”

“Me too.”

I set my gaze out the windshield again and ran a hand down Finn’s back. “Are you going to tell me where we’re going now?”

“The sawmill up in Lancaster.”

“You’re doing work on a Saturday morning?”

“It’s not work. Not really. As the culminating event of the fall festival next week, the community is doing a barn raising. I need to make sure all the wood has been cut correctly and is ready to go.”

“A barn raising? Like in Seven Brides for Seven Brothers?”

Ben’s brow creased, like he had no idea what I was talking about.