Page 17 of Cider Kissed By the Mountain Man
I’d felt the way he’d held me, seen the way he’d looked at me, heard the tenderness in his voice when he’d whispered my name. What we’d shared had been a hell of a lot more than just sex, and we both knew it.
But if Trent Lawson wanted to pretend otherwise, if he wanted to go back to being the grumpy hermit who didn’t need anyone, that was his choice.
I just wished it didn’t hurt so damn much.
I drove home with the radio turned up loud, trying to drown out the voice in my head that kept whispering that maybe he was right. Maybe I had read too much into what was probably just physical attraction and good chemistry.
Maybe I was the one who was fooling herself.
But when Monday morning came, I was going to show up with my students and prove to both of us that I could be just as professional as he was. I was going to give my kids the best field trip of their lives, and I was going to do it without letting Trent Lawson see how much he’d hurt me.
Even if it killed me.
Because that’s what teachers did. We smiled and we pushed through, and we put our students first, even when our personal lives felt like they were falling apart.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Trent
I’d fucked up and I knew it.
The minute Abby drove away from the orchard with tears in her eyes, I knew I’d made the biggest mistake of my life.
I spent the whole weekend trying to convince myself I was right. That I’d done the smart thing. That keeping my distance would protect both of us. That pretending what happened between us meant nothing was the responsible, adult thing to do.
Bullshit.
I hadn’t stopped thinking about her once. About the way she’d looked at me. Like I wasn’t just the grumpy orchard owner with a broken irrigation system.
I’d thought I was doing the right thing, pushing her away before things got messy. I’m not a relationship guy. I fix shit. I prune trees. I keep my head down and my heart locked up tight where no one can reach it. That’s always worked for me.
Until her.
I’d watched her walk away, and I hadn’t chased her.
But I was damn sure going to fix that now.
I didn’t bother changing out of my work clothes. I didn’t shower. I didn’t even wipe the dirt off my boots. I just grabbed my keys and drove straight into town, muttering curses at every red light and gripping the steering wheel like it was the only thing keeping me together.
Martha had given me her address without question. Just shoved a piece of paper into my hand and said, “Fix it before she decides she’s too good for you. Because she is.”
She wasn’t wrong.
I pulled up in front of Abby’s apartment building just after sunset. My heart was pounding like I’d just run ten miles uphill. I’d faced down storms that demolished years worth of trees, broken equipment every single day, flooding, frost—but nothing, nothing made me feel like this.
I jogged the stairs two at a time, my stomach twisting tighter the closer I got to her door. I hadn’t thought this through. What the hell was I supposed to say?
Hi, I’m sorry I emotionally wrecked you and tried to pretend we didn’t have the best damn night of my life?
I raised my hand and knocked.
The porch light flicked on.
I knocked again, harder this time.
A pause. Footsteps. Then the sound of the lock sliding back.
The door opened, and there she was—barefoot, in a worn t-shirt and sleep shorts, hair pulled up in a messy knot like she hadn’t expected anyone to see her tonight. She looked real. She looked beautiful. My voice felt stuck in my throat.
