Page 105 of Once Upon a Fall

“My grandma taught me.”

“Right. Your grandma is starting to sound like a saint.”

“She was pretty great,” he says.

We are quiet while we sway for a bit, and I let myself enjoy being this close to him.

“What are you going to do now that the inn is done and the festival is over?” he asks.

I chuckle. “Sleep for a year.”

“You probably need to.”

“I’ve got things to keep me busy. The inn is booked pretty steadily through the end of the month.”

“Good,” he says.

“And maybe I’ll find a hobby.”

“Join a quilting circle?”

“Yes.” I laugh. “That’s exactly what I was thinking.”

“You should be proud of yourself, though,” he says.

“For what?”

“For all you’ve done. The inn. The festival.”

I pull back enough to see his face. “I wouldn’t have gotten any of it done without you.”

He shakes his head, his eyes on mine. “You would have. You’d have gotten no sleep and lived off pot pies, but you would have done it.”

Would I have, though? I’m not so sure.

“You would have,” he says, like he can read my thoughts.

How can he have so much faith in me?

And why, when he says it, do I believe him?

I was there. I saw the mistakes, the shortcuts, all the moments when everything could have fallen apart. And somehow, when I needed something the most, it always seemed to show up.

Including the man holding me right now. My knight in shining armor. My prince.

Except Dean isn’t either of those things. Not really. He’s Dean. Which somehow feels much more dangerous.

Because right now, with the way he’s looking at me, I can feel words bubbling up inside me.

Stay.

Don’t go to Manhattan. Stay here. Stay with me. We could run the inn together and cook dinner in my kitchen and live happily ever after.

That’s what I want: the fairy tale.

But this is real life. And in real life, Dean has a career he’s built for himself. A job waiting for him in Manhattan. A life that takes him from place to place. And I own an inn in a tiny town in Vermont.

“You okay?” Dean asks, his eyes searching mine.