Page 18 of All You Need Is Love

Chapter 4

This … now this was the life.

What more could she possibly need?

Shannon plucked a plump olallieberry—a cross between blackberries, dewberries, and raspberries—from its bush and popped it between her lips. The sweet-tart juice squirted in all directions inside her mouth. “Mmm.”

Beside her, Noah reached into the bush and pulled out a handful of the black-colored berries. They’d only been here for thirty minutes and already his lips were stained red. “Told you they were yummy, Miss Shannon.” Instead of putting them into the plastic-lined bucket they were sharing, he stuck the whole handful in his mouth.

“You’ve got to put some in the bucket, bud. Otherwise we won’t have enough for me to make you a pie.” Shannon tousled his hair.

Spread out in the fields around her, various family members worked together to fill their own buckets. The farm where they’d scheduled an exclusive picking time on the second day of the reunion sat just south of town, adjacent to the Olallieberry Canyon area just off Highway 1.

A breeze rustled the leaves of the junipers sitting atop the rolling hills that overlooked the rows of olallieberry bushes. Shannon followed Noah, content to just watch him kneeling in the dirt, his bare toes getting filthy in his flip-flops. His enthusiasm knew no bounds, and she had difficulty keeping pace with him as he darted in and out of the rows.

Stopping at a bush sagging with an inordinate amount of berries, she squatted and breathed deeply of the cleansing air, which hinted at the ocean brine just a mile or so away.

Noah’s laughter floated back to her, good medicine for her soul—and today she was one step closer to becoming his mom forever. Just this morning, she’d heard from the foster care agency again and learned that they had time to conduct her interview tomorrow morning. Shannon had already told her parents she’d have to forego the family hike at ten.

“Hey!” Noah shouted from farther down her row. “Marshall!”

Jerking her head toward his voice and pivoting to stand at the same time threw off her center of balance—and oh so gracefully, Shannon fell headlong into the bush. Fine sharp points pricked the undersides of her forearms as a garbled squeak flew from her mouth.

“Whoa. You all right?” Strong arms first steadied her then hauled her backward and onto her feet.

She glanced up into Marshall’s eyes, and this close she could make out the golden rims ringing the brown center like an inside out caramel. “Y-yeah.” Stepping back, she examined her palms and other places where the plant had scratched her. No blood, thankfully, just irritating little scrapes quickly turning pink. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” Tilting his head, Marshall lifted his fingers and lightly grazed her right cheek.

She winced at the contact.

“You’re hurt.”

“It’s nothing.”

Frowning, Marshall reached into his pocket and pulled out a napkin. “Here.” He hesitated then pressed the napkin softly against the skin just below her cheekbone. The warmth of his fingers bled through the paper.

Their interaction in the kitchen last night—the one that had played on a loop in her mind—returned to this moment. “No offense, but you don’t exactly blend into the crowd.” She’d held each word close, broken them apart, put them back together, and still, the meaning eluded her.

Because what it seemed to mean couldn’t be what it really meant.

He was Quinn’s boyfriend. Why would he be looking twice at Shannon?

This was wrong, on so many levels. He was just a nice guy, and Shannon was making an idiot of herself.

Her fingers secured the napkin before she stepped away. “Thanks again. Are you having fun? Where’s Quinn?” The words tumbled from her lips, but they were necessary.

“You’re welcome. Yes, a blast. And she had enough of nature and headed back to the farm store for some coffee.” Marshall’s lips quirked into a grin.

“That sounds like her.” Together, they both walked toward Noah, who had joined up with her cousin Sophie’s two boys, Brodie and Brogan. The kids were tossing berries into the air and trying to catch them in their mouths, succeeding only half the time.

Marshall interrupted them. “You guys want to know the secret to catching those every time?”

“Yes!”

He taught them how to keep their elbow at their waists and use it like a hinge before flicking their hands quickly upward. Sophie’s boys caught on quickly, cheering as they landed berry after berry, but Noah failed several times in a row.

The five-year-old crossed his arms and stomped on the dropped berries, sending red and purple juice squirting into the dirt. “I don’t want to play this stupid game anymore.”

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