Page 9 of Fake It Till We Fall
Okay…slightly more complicated.
But nothing I couldn’t handle.
First things first. I needed a ladder.
With my hands on my hips, I turned a slow circle and took in the plaza around me. It was busy in that pre-holiday way, with both tourists and locals milling about with their shopping and steaming cups of coffee from the Bean Bag.
For a moment, I thought I saw Grayson over by the gazebo, fiddling with a strand of lights. The tall frame, the dark hair, the way he moved…it had been a long time, but…
I didn’t let myself look twice. The sooner I got the job done, the sooner I could get back inside to the kitchen.
Without a ladder, my next best option was a chair from the dining room. Inside, I grabbed the sturdiest one I could find, making a mental note to double-check all the chairs, and dragged it outside.
If I could survive for years working in a yacht kitchen on the rolling seas without any major calamities, there was no reason I couldn’t string a garland over the window. Even if it did require a few questionable acrobatic moves.
With the garland in one hand, I climbed up on the chair, but it wasn’t tall enough to reach the hook.
I sucked in a breath, stood on my tiptoes, and stretched as far over as I could.
It was onlyjustout of reach. I just needed to stretch a little further.
My fingers brushed the hook, just as the chair wobbled, the leg catching on the uneven patio stones below. The next thing I knew, the ground tilted, the garland slipped from my hands, and?—
A pair of strong arms caught me moments before I hit the ground.
Grayson.
I didn’t need to open my eyes to know it was him. The second I allowed myself to breathe again, my senses were overwhelmed with the fresh scent of pine and peppermint that was both familiar and brand-new.
Then I opened my eyes, looked up, and my breath caught in my throat.
Clear, blue eyes. The color of glacier water. The very same eyes I saw in my dreams for so many years.
But everything else was different. He’d filled out since I’d last been that close. A thick, muscular chest with strong arms that held me steady, as if I weighed nothing at all.
“Harper,” Grayson said, his voice low and steady.
Deeper than I remembered it.
And just like that, I was back in his arms. A place I no longer belonged.
Grayson
I tried notto look her way, but it was as if a magnet kept drawing my gaze away from the missing lightbulbs at the gazebo, directly to the shop front of Willa’s Whisk. And Harper.
She was balanced on a chair, of all damned things, and it looked like she was on her tiptoes, trying to—shit!
I didn’t think, just moved. My boots crunched on the snow-covered bricks as I sprinted across the plaza.
The chair wobbled.
Two more steps, and I was there right as the chair tipped.
She let out a startled sound as she landed safely in my arms.
“Harper.”
She felt the same. Small, warm, andfamiliar.But she was different, too. Older. Stronger. And somehow, justmore.
