Page 10 of Cherry Picked
Thank god I hadn’t confessed my feelings on that damn mountain. If I’d told him that the crush at first sight I’d developed on him as a lonely teenager had only grown over the years until Jack had become the center of my personal solar system, I’d probably have been burned to ash by the shame of it all. As it was, I was only… heavily charred.
Emma leaned over me to speak to Webb. “Hawk claims he’s fine, but when I asked him if he was heading up the Averill Union back-to-school charity drive again this year, he grunted. When I asked how his hike with the Mini Nature Scouts went yesterday, he only sighed instead of pulling out his phone and showing me cute kid pictures. I deliberately said something insulting about Timothée Chalamet, and he didn’t argue. And,” she said triumphantly, ticking off a fourth finger, “he atefourextra-long gummy worms on the drive here. He usually stops after two. He’s definitely upset about something.”
I elbowed her back into her own space. “Maybe Hawk’s upset that you’re talking about Hawk like Hawk’s not sitting right here? Just a thought.”
Mrs. Cleeward, whose hair was as bright red as the cinnamon hearts in her candy store, turned around eagerly. “Were thosemygummy worms? Did you like them, Hawk? Did you know we’re using your family’s apples to make the apple juice concentrate for our candies now? In fact, Webb, I got your message about carrying the gummies in the Orchard shop. Mel’s going to call Gage later in the week about a distribution agreement…”
I crossed my arms over my chest like Mr. Diallo, trying to block out the chatter, and wished I could learn the fine art of public sleeping.
“Hawk! You made it.” A delicate fingernail poked the back of my shoulder. “I wasn’t sure after I got your text.”
I turned eagerly toward my friend Crys, taking in her newly dyed hot pink hair—which she’d styled in a short, messy bedhead look that could have been posted on TikTok with both punk rock and lesbian-chic hashtags—and smiled for the first time all night. Crys and I had only met when she’d moved to town and gotten a job at Panini Jack’s a couple of months before, but she was removed from the busybody nonsense, which made her a breath of fresh air and a really good confidant.
“Only because Ihadto come,” I said fervently. “Evola Development Corp is set to ruin the Hollow. That takes precedence over everything else.”
Webb heard me and sighed. “No one’s ruining anything tonight, Hawk. We’re here to listen to their design proposal and ask questions. The plans won’t be finalized until next month.”
This time, I didn’t restrain my eye roll. No wonder I was “cranky.” The town I loved was set to be manhandled by big-city real estate developers under the guise of building an upscale “woodland resort experience,” and no one seemed inclined to stop it. In fact, at least half the town was ready to roll out the red carpet for their new overlords.
“We’ve been listening to them since February,” I reminded him. “Every time these guys ‘talk,’ it sounds more and more like they consider it a done deal. Don’t forget, I was on Mayor York’s committee to review the site plans. Evola simply cannot raze acres of natural, old-growth forest to buildluxury alpine relaxation cabanasanddeliciously decadent bespoke gustatory osteriaswithout having devastating impact on the local flora and fauna. Have you seen environmental impact studies of theirotherresorts? No, me neither. Because they don’t exist. Which means Evola hasn’t publicized them. Which means they’rebad. As a person who’s devoted himself to saving heirloom apple varietals, you should care about this, Webb. Anyone who cares about the Hollow should care about this.”
Webb made a soothing, noncommittal noise—the kind you made when a child was pitching a fit—and I felt like growling. The proposed resort development project stood to bring hundreds of new tourists and their spending money to town, which meant many people, including some members of my own family, were already leaning toward approving it.
The fingernail poked me again. “I know we’re here to stop the evil developers from paving paradise, Joni Mitchell…” Crys leaned closer and whispered under her breath. “But what’s the deal withyou know whoand the plan toyou know whathim? Your text was extremely light on details. A single thumbs-down emoji? I need more.”
I shrugged. “There’s nothing more to say. I asked. He declined. The end.”
Now I had to figure out how to give up the dream of my heart and move on. How to stop being in love with someone who represented the biggest and best parts of my life.
Romance novels had not prepared me for a situation where one-half of the fated mates decides the other isn’t a suitable match. This seemed a regrettable oversight.
“Boo, that’s not possible,” Crys said firmly. “Tell me everythingyousaid, and everythinghesaid about what you said, and everythingyousaid about what he said about what you said.”
“I did exactly as you suggested. I asked him flat out. No chance for misunderstandings. And he…” I looked around to make sure no one was listening, but naturally, everyone and their brother was listening, especially mine. “He wasnotamenable,” I admitted in a pained whisper. “Barely even considered it. Can we stop talking about this now?”
Crys shook her head. “No, because I’m still not buying it. The way he looks at you… He’s very,veryamenable, Hawk.”
Luke leaned over and whispered. “What are we talking about?”
“Nothing. Nothing at all,” I lied. “Go back to petting my brother.” I turned to Crys again. “Explain what you mean.”
As far as I could tell, Jack looked at me the way Jack had looked at me since the day we’d met—fondly, but apparently not the kind of fond that made him want to rip my clothes off and worship my naked flesh with his tongue. Not even fond enough to override his concerns about my family.
She leaned even closer, cupping her hand around her mouth and whispering in my ear unapologetically. “His eyes follow you constantly. If you’re in the room, you’re the center of his attention.”
“Well, sure, but it’s been that way forever. Because we’re friends,” I whispered glumly. “Which is part of the problem for him. He says he doesn’t want to lose what we have. And he’s my boss. And he’s my ‘honorary brother.’ And he knows certain people wouldn’t be okay with it.” I tilted my head in Webb’s direction.
To my shock, Crys’s face broke out in a smile. “That’s what he said, huh? Is thateverythinghe said?”
“Isn’t that enough? It’s hopeless.” He’d shut me down so entirely I had no recourse. I wasn’t a fighter by nature, but I would have fought for this… if Jack had let me.
“But he didn’t say he wasn’t attracted to you.”
I blinked. “Well… no,” I said slowly, my battered heart thumping a little faster. “Not technically. But I felt like that was covered in the ‘brothers’ part.”
“Is it, though? If he didn’t find you attractive, he’d have said, ‘You’re not my type, Hawkins,’ and been done with it. Wouldn’t he?”
“I… I don’t know.” Maybe he’d been trying to save my feelings by not admitting that short, thin guys with muddy-brown eyes and cowlicks weren’t his jam.
