Page 8 of Harvest Season in Kentbury
“Baker’s hours,” he replies, matter-of-fact.“I’ve got to get to the bakery and start prepping for the day.”
I blink, surprised.“Isn’t that Grandma’s job?”
Paul shakes his head.“Not anymore.I’m taking over so she can retire and actually enjoy her life.”
“You’re serious, aren’t you?”I ask, half expecting him to laugh it off.
But he nods.“Completely.Once you’re better, I’ll invite you to join me one morning.You’ll see how peaceful it is to make bread, prep the pastries.It’s ...calming.“
I stare at him, trying to picture it—my brother, up before dawn, crafting pastries in the early morning light.It’s almost laughable, considering who he used to be.But there’s something in the way he says it, somethingreal.He’s settled here.He has a life.He’s happy.
And I envy him for it.Because the truth is, I don’t think I’ve ever really had that.
Honestly, the whole baking thing isn’t what I need.I know that much.But the rest?The peace, the contentment ...it makes me wonder.Why do I want that?And more importantly, how do I even achieve it?
ChapterSix
Meadow
Morning comes way too damn early,and I groan as the alarm blares, reminding me I’m an adult with responsibilities.Joy.My brain grudgingly kicks into gear, dragging me through the fog as I remember my packed schedule—a class at the high school, festival prep, and the gallery because of course, everything has to be done by yesterday.
Rolling out of bed with all the enthusiasm of a hungover sloth, I stretch and stumble my way into a standing position.But then, something sparks in me as I remember—Jane and I have rom-com night.A grin creeps across my face, there’s something fun to look forward to today.Not that everything else isn’t important, just watching movies where people fall in love is my jam.
But, yoga first.Gotta keep the zen going.
I roll out my mat and go through the motions—Downward Dog, Warrior II—focusing on my breath, fighting my mind that is already running through all the things I have to get done today.Stay present, Meadow.It’s just me, the stretch, and ...okay, maybe I’m already picturing the hot shower I’ll reward myself with after holding this triangle for what feels like forever without falling down.Balance and all be damned.
When I finally hop into the shower, I tell myself to be quick—there’s no time to waste.But the hot water hits, and damn, it feels too good to rush.So, I stand there, letting it cascade down my body for a few extra indulgent minutes.It’s not procrastination if it’s self-care, right?
Once I’m finally out, I grab my favorite pair of curve-hugging jeans—the ones that make me feel like I could conquer the world—and a cozy tan sweater.It’s cool enough outside to justify the layers, but not so cold I’ll regret it later.I blow-dry my auburn hair, pulling it back into a ponytail.Functional, not fancy—gotta stay practical for a day like today.I swipe on a bit of makeup, more for myself than anyone else.A little glow never hurt anyone.
Grabbing my keys, I head out, the cool morning air waking me up fully as I make my way to town.First stop—my caffeine fix followed by a McFolley pastry.
I walk into the coffee shop.The door chimes behind me as I step in, and that’s when I seehim.Standing in line, tall and broad, he’s got this presence that pulls you in before you even know what’s happening.His hair’s dark, a little messy like he’s run his fingers through it a few times, and there’s this subtle hint of silver at his temples that makes him look even more striking.Rugged, but polished in that “I don’t even try” way.
He’s staring at the menu above the counter, jaw clenched like he’s thinking about more than just coffee.His dark, intense eyes flicker as if the weight of the world is resting on him, and then—he catches me.For a split second, our eyes lock, and there’s something there.Curiosity?Amusement?Whatever it is, it’s enough to make my heart do that stupid little flip it does around men like him.
The rough stubble on his jaw only adds to his whole rugged, I-just-walked-out-of-a-forty-ish-dream vibe.And me?I’m standing awkwardly behind him, pretending I don’t care that he makes me feel like I’m back in high school, crushing on the bad boy.
“Hey, Meadow.”
The female voice startles me, and I jump a little, turning to find McKay McFolley smiling at me.
“Morning,” I reply, giving her a nod, trying not to look like I’ve been ogling her very handsome, very grumpy sibling.
“Is it just me, or is everything in here pumpkin-flavored?”Raffa’s voice rumbles, low and a little irritated, like the season itself has personally offended him.That gruff tone hits me in the chest, making me melt a little.Ridiculous.I should not be fantasizing about this man.He’s too old for me anyway, right?But then again, maybe someone older would be better.At least older men wouldn’t cheat on you seven ways to Sunday like the younger ones do.
“It’s the season,” I answer, trying to sound nonchalant.
“You should stick with tea anyway,” McKay chimes in, throwing him a pointed look.“Remember, caffeine is on your top list of no-nos.”
“I knew I should’ve come here without you,” Raffa grumbles, the corners of his mouth twitching in frustration.
McKay rolls her eyes.“No worries, everyone in town now knows your dietary restrictions, big brother.No one’s gonna serve you greasy food, caffeine, or any of that shit.”
I raise an eyebrow, intrigued.“Dietary restrictions?”
“Yeah, big brother here had a something-something-NSTEMI heart attack a few weeks ago,” McKay replies, all too casually as if I’ll understand what something and all that gibberish means.“It wasn’t that bad, but it’s not great.”
