Page 16 of Cider Kissed By the Mountain Man
We spent the morning going over safety protocols with the efficiency of strangers. Trent explained the designated paths, the areas that were off-limits, the rules about ladder use and applepicking techniques. He was thorough and knowledgeable and completely, utterly professional.
He was also treating me like I was nothing more than a teacher doing her job, and it was driving me slowly insane.
When he started talking about emergency procedures, I’d had enough. “Okay, what’s going on?”
“What do you mean?” But he wouldn’t meet my eyes.
“I mean yesterday we were...” I gestured vaguely between us, heat rising in my cheeks. “And today you’re acting like I’m a complete stranger.”
His jaw was set, but his eyes betrayed him. “Yesterday was a mistake,” he said, the words dragging out like they hurt to get out. But it didn’t stop them from hitting me like a physical blow. I actually took a step back, my hand going to my chest like I could somehow protect my heart from the damage he’d just done.
“A mistake,” I repeated.
“Yes.” His jaw was set. “We got carried away. It shouldn’t have happened.”
Carried away.Like what we’d shared had been nothing more than a moment of weakness. Like the way he’d touched me, the things he’d whispered against my skin, had meant nothing at all.
“I see,” I said, and I was proud of how steady my voice sounded even though I felt like I was shattering inside. “And you decided this when? Before or after you carried me to your bed?”
A muscle ticked in his jaw. “Abby—”
“No, I get it.” I folded my arms, not to comfort myself, but to keep from grabbing his clipboard and hurling it at his too-handsome, too-stoic face. “You got what you wanted. Now you’re pulling the classic strong, silent, emotionally constipated act. Very on brand.”
He said nothing. But then, of course he didn’t. He probably thought silence was noble. Thought shutting me out was some kind of gift.
“That’s not—” He scrubbed a hand over his face, looking suddenly exhausted. “It’s complicated.”
“It really isn’t.” I closed my eyes for a moment. “You’re scared. I get it. I’m scared too. But at least I’m not pretending yesterday didn’t happen.”
That got a reaction. A tightening of the jaw. A flicker in his eyes. Good. Let him feel something. “You’d rather gut your own feelings than admit you might want something more than peace and quiet.”
“I’m not pretending anything. I’m being realistic.”
“About what?” Anger was starting to burn through the hurt. “About the fact that you actually enjoyed yourself? About the fact that you let someone get close to you for five minutes and didn’t die from the experience?”
His eyes flashed. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t I?” I stepped closer, close enough to see the way his eyes looked so alive despite his cold expression. “You’re terrified that you might actually like me. That what happened between us might have been more than just scratching an itch.”
“It was sex, Abby. Good sex, but just sex.” His tone was flat. Clipped. The kind of voice you used to shut doors and burn bridges.
Just sex.The casual dismissal of what had felt like the most intimate experience of my life made something sharp and painful twist in my chest. “Right,” I said quietly. “Just sex. How silly of me to think it might have been something more.”
I turned to walk away, needing distance, needing to get away from him before I did something embarrassing like cry. But his voice stopped me.
“Where are you going?”
“Home.” I didn’t turn around. “I think we’ve covered everything we need to for the field trip. I’ll come here with my students, and we’ll pick your apples and learn about agriculture and have a wonderful educational experience. And then we’ll be out of your life forever.”
“Abby, wait—”
“No. Don’t say another word unless it starts with ‘I’m an idiot’ and ends with ‘please feel free to knee me in the balls.’” I continued to walk away, my vision blurry with tears I refused to let fall until I was safely away from Trent Lawson and his stupid orchard and his ability to make me feel like I was flying one minute and crashing the next.
I made it all the way to the main road before I had to pull over.
Just sex.The words echoed in my head as I sat in my parked car and finally let myself cry. Because that’s what hurt the most—not that he was scared or emotionally unavailable or determined to keep me at arm’s length.
It was that he was lying.
