Page 55 of Falling For You

I wasn’t a toad, by any means, but I wasn’t five-foot-ten inches, a size 00, and impeccably dressed. I was a five-foot-four type with a little more squish in the middle.

I had a penchant for ponytails and jeans, and it was hard to imagine he’d even give me a second look where he came from.

But whatever.

I wouldn’t second-guess everything about the feelings I knew we shared. Sometimes, attraction worked in mysterious ways.

Owen spotted me and waved, jogging over with a cute grin. All of the worry from the night before looked like it had vanished. Maybe whatever meeting he’d had this morning helped.

“Hey, you,” he called, his breath coming out in visible puffs. “So, what’s the plan? You mentioned something about a surprise?”

He kissed my cheek quickly, and my knees nearly clanked together. He had bundled himself in a black puffy coat, and the hem of a grey wool sweater hung below it.

I couldn’t hide my happiness. “Oh, it’s a surprise, alright. Ihope you’re ready for the quintessential fall experience at Buttercup Lake.”

Owen raised his brows. “Should I be worried?”

“Only if you hate fun,” I teased, nudging him with my elbow as we walked toward my car. “I’m taking you on a hayride.”

“A hayride?” Owen looked both surprised and amused.

I studied him as he opened the passenger door and climbed in. I couldn’t tell if he wanted to run back inside or if hewanted to come.

He smiled at me. “I don’t think I’ve been on one of those since I was twelve.”

“Well, today’s your lucky day, city boy,” I said, grinning as I slid into the driver’s seat. “Prepare to be charmed.”

I turned on the radio and spun it to the local channel playing Christmas music, and he laughed.

“Whoa, farm girl. We haven’t even gotten to Thanksgiving.”

I chuckled and shrugged. “The season goes by too quickly. Why not stretch it where you can?”

He laughed and looked out the window.

“It’s a quick trip to the farm.”

As we pulled out of town and followed the country roads to our destination, I glanced at Owen, taking it all in.

If I didn’t know better, I’d say he kind of liked it here.

The drive to the farm wasn’t long, and soon enough, we pulled up to a sprawling field bordered by towering trees.

A tractor sat waiting at the edge of the field, hitched to a large, flatbed wagon piled high with hay bales. A small group of people—mostly families—was already gathered, chatting and laughing as they waited for the ride to begin.

“This is the spot?” Owen asked, stepping out of the car and surveying the scene. “Beautiful place.”

I hopped out and clapped my hands together. “This is it! And trust me, it’s more fun than it looks.”

Owen shot me a teasing look. “You just want to see me try not to fall off a hay bale.”

I grinned. “That’s definitely part of it. Don’t worry. There isn’t coffee around, just hot cider.”

He chuckled, and we made our way over to the wagon, where the farmer—a burly man with a thick beard and an even thicker Wisconsin accent—greeted us with a friendly wave. “Hop on up, folks! Plenty of room!”

Owen climbed on first and turned around to hoist me up.

I playfully scowled. “I could have done that myself.”

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