Page 54 of Rushing Into Love

I chuckled to myself, squashing down the snake of anxiety twisting around my insides.Everything is cool, I told myself.Bree is not Shayna. Bree is mentally stable. Shayna is the past; Bree is the future. You can do this.

But no matter how hard I pep talked, the snake still slithered around, rearing his ugly head. I was going to have to get rid of him before my date with Bree, but I wasn’t exactly sure how.

* * *

Saturday dawned bright and cloudless,the air temp a brisk fifty degrees. I dropped Charlie off with my mom to watch cartoons while I went for a long run to clear my head. Today Bree and I would be going out in public, in the daylight, with no dark curtains or shadows to hide behind. I hadn’t dated anyone since Shayna and that experience had left me more than a little battered and wary. Coupled with the threat of tabloid scandal or Shayna fallout, I was nervous as hell. But as Bree had pointed out a few dozen times, we couldn’t hide forever and we were doing nothing wrong. She was absolutely right, but it didn’t alleviate my anxiety any.

I ran hard, clocking six-minute miles, not bad for a thirty-something retired football player. Five miles later, I was sweaty and spent, but it felt damn good. I hustled back to the house, pounded out one hundred pushups and sit-ups each, then hit the showers to prepare for my date. I threw on a pair of jeans, a grey long sleeve T, and a half-zip black pullover. Tying my sneakers, I was ready to go.

I popped over to my parents’ house to say bye to Charlie. “Hey guys, I’m heading out now,” I shouted down the hallway. The din of the TV trailed out from the den; Charlie was busy watching his shows. The kid lived for Saturday mornings.

“Oh hi, honey, don’t you look nice.” My mom shot me an approving smile as I walked into the kitchen, where she was washing the breakfast dishes.

“Thanks, Mom,” I said, giving her a squeeze. “But I’m pretty sure you’re biased.” I winked at her and she chuckled.

“Probably. But I’m pretty sure Bree will be impressed. She’s already impressed, anyway, the rest is all details.”

I cocked my head at her, confused.

“Ryder, any fool can see she’s head over heels for you,” my mom said, waving a scrub brush at me. “Even your father, whose eyesight is going.” She turned back to the dishes, scrubbing egg off a plate.

Leaning against the counter, I crossed my hands over my chest and mulled over my mother’s words. I mean, I knew Bree liked me, but head over heels? Kinda strong.

“How do you know that, Mom?” I asked.

“C’mon. She practically hangs on every word you say. The two of you can’t keep your hands off each other, although I know you’re trying to be covert on account of Charlie. Every time you say something even remotely funny, she giggles, and I’ve never seen anyone blush more than that sweet darling girl.” She shut the water off, turned to face me.

“I like her, Ryder. She’s way better for you than Shayna ever was. You just have to make sure you treat her right. She does seem to be a bit skittish at times, so something tells me she’s had a bad experience in the past. You two will need to work through that and then you’ll be just fine.” My mom stood on her tiptoes, giving me a soft kiss on the cheek, then patted the same spot softly, like she used to when I was a kid.

“You’re a sweet boy, Ryder. Don’t let the past trip you up. Be yourself—your true, genuine self—and it will all work out.” She rubbed my arm, then turned and walked out of the kitchen, leaving me leaning against the counter, stunned. Just when I thought I was fooling everyone, my mother called me right out.

No one ever could get anything past Maeve McCauliffe. It was foolish to even try.

* * *

I pickedBree up a little after twelve and we headed straight to the Fall Festival. The weather really was perfect, the bright sunlight highlighting all the auburns and burnt oranges of the autumn leaves. We parked in the General Store lot and walked down the cobblestones of Main Street, my arm around Bree’s waist.

“Are you holding onto me because you’re scared I’ll trip?” Bree joked, cutting her eyes at me.

“Yes. And also because we’re leveling our relationship up, per the advice of a pretty smart dating expert.”

“Very funny,” she said, eyes narrowed. “Only pretty smart?”

“Fine. Very smart. Like, deserves-national-recognition smart.”

Bree sighed. “Fingers crossed. I filed my application yesterday.”

“When will you hear back?” I asked.

“Probably mid-to-late November. It’s my last chance, so I’m really hoping I get it.” Determination was all over her face; she was damn sexy when she went after something.

“You’ll get it,” I said, reassuring her. “You deserve it.”

“Thanks.” She flashed me a grateful smile.

The park gates were decorated with orange and black ribbon and huge bales of hay, piles of pumpkins flanking each gate. The path was covered with fallen orange and amber leaves and we followed the trail of foliage into the park.

Lots of people were milling about, checking out the vendor booths. The aromas of apple cider, cinnamon, and funnel cake mingled together and my stomach grumbled. Even anxiety didn’t cut down my appetite.

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