The cross section of fall and winter in Poppy Meadows always smelled like apples and gingersnaps and possibility. This year, the festival seemed even bigger than usual. There were booths with caramel apple–dipping stations and an array of toppings. There were tents for children that offered face painting or stations where you could pour your own candles. Freshly spun apple cinnamon cotton candy wafted down the street, chasing you like desire until you gave in to the temptation. A towering rock wall that children could climb was set up at the end of the street, and an area had been roped off for live music. Firepits were dotted around so festivalgoers could stay warm as the night grew chillier. An antiques booth sold old furniture and rare books, set up like a cozy little living room, complete with a wingback chair and side table. Other vendors sold everything from hand-knit hats and scarves to fairy lights in mason jars. The air was warm and rich, the smells changing every few feet. Lavender and lemon from the handmade soap stall, exotic spices from the sweet and savory nut booth.
And then, the hairs on the back of Sadie’s neck stood on end, and there was a tingle along her spine. She knew, before her eyes found his in the crowd, that Jake was looking for her.
“Hello,” Sage said, looking at Jake as he approached.
He looked at Sadie, whose heart was beating rapid-fire. She couldn’t read his beautiful face. He held a small paper bag in his hand, and there were dark circles under his eyes. Even after all this time, they were eyes she wanted to fall into and never find her way back out of. Her stomach dipped as his eyes hungrily searched hers.
“Sage, why don’t we get back to the booth; I think these two need a moment,” Florence said.
Raquel gave Sadie a look that said, “You okay?” When Sadie nodded subtly, she dipped her head in acknowledgment and said, “Well! Look at that! Kitten calendars!” and walked away, leaving Sadie and Jake swimming in a bubble of silence as the Festival moved around them.
“Come over here,” he said, taking her hand and pulling her behind a tent stall. The light was darker there. Pressing in on them. An invitation for secrets and twined fingers.
“Thanks for the pie,” he finally said.
She didn’t move. She didn’t breathe.
“I wanted to tell you … Bethany faked the pregnancy,” he said quietly.
“I know,” she answered, barely breathing.
“Why am I not surprised?” His low laugh rumbled in his chest, and Sadie felt it in her fingertips. “I would have come to see you sooner, but I needed time to process. I broke it off with her. She’s staying at the Elmwood and leaving tomorrow. I’m having her things packed up and sent to her.”
“Oh.” Sadie could barely talk through the small space that separated them now.
“Look, I was mad at her at first. I was pissed. But I mourn the loss of”—he paused, the words seeming to stick in his throat—“the idea that I could have been a father, not the relationship. You have to know that. I need you to know that. But I can honestly say I wish her the best. Just not with me. It’s always been you.”
They were the words she’d always wanted to hear, so why didn’t she feel better? Because there was still more truth to tell.
“Listen, I need to tell you something.” And she told him everything: she knew he’d had an inkling about the magic, though he didn’t know the full extent of it. Now he did. She told him about the pie and her curse of four heartbreaks.
“Sadie—” he started, then stopped, searching for words.
“It’s a lot to take in, I know. But … I thought I should tell you. You deserved to know the truth.”
His eyes snapped to hers. “The truth,” he said. “You want to know the truth?”
She nodded, her heart in her throat.
“I fell in love with you ten years ago. And I could never love anybody else the way I love you. I’ve been stupid and angry and broken. And I want, more than anything, for you to forgive me.” He handed her the bag he’d been carrying.
Confused, Sadie looked inside. There, like little jewels of hope stacked on top of one another, was box after box of collector spoons.
“The first time I bought one, it made me feel closer to you. And then, I think I started traveling more just to get more spoons for you. I’d go to every little shop until I found the perfect one. It’s pathetic, I know, but it’s always been you.”
She looked up at him, barely able to breathe. She didn’t answer at first. Instead, she approached him gently and ran a hand through his hair. Down his neck. Tension crackled at her fingertips.
“I forgive you,” she said, and before the words were out of her mouth, he’d pulled her hard against him, his fingers digging into her hips, anchoring her to him. His forehead leaned against hers, his chest rising rapidly.
“Jake,” she whispered.
“Sadie,” he said, and her name was a prayer as he kissed the spot below her ear. “Sadie.” This time it was an offering as he kissed her neck. “Sade.” A plea. And then his lips found hers.
Sadie shivered, her fingers threading through his hair, every delicious inch of him pressed against her. The kiss was soft, like coming home. But it wasn’t enough. Not after a decade of waiting. She pressed into him and gasped as he angled his head to deepen the kiss, his tongue brushing against hers with a new urgency. All she could think was more.
Her hands clawed under his shirt, needing to feel him. He let out a rough breath as her fingernails trailed his stomach just above the waistband of his jeans. Everywhere they touched her body warmed like molten sugar. And then without warning he scooped her up by the waist and walked forward, balancing her back against the brick wall. Her legs wrapped around him, ankles crossed to bring him even closer. The brick biting delectably into her back.
They were breathing each other in. Inhaling each other’s scents. Committing them to memory. His teeth catching her bottom lip in a bite that had her groaning into him. It was a slow, maddening slide, growing more frenzied by the second. Her blood thrummed. Her skin crackled. Each stroke of his tongue against hers was a word. A war. An invitation. Come closer, it said. I dare you. Let me show you what we’ve been missing. And he did, his hands sliding up the back of her thighs. A delicious heat pooling in her core, Sadie inhaled sharply as his hands, calloused and rough, the hands she’d dreamed of too many times, made their way under her shirt and up her waist. She arched into him and he groaned, breaking away to pay tribute to her neck with a kiss. Lick. Bite. Repeat.
There was a sudden yelp from a child nearby. It was enough to pull them both out of the kiss, though they didn’t pull away.
“I think we may be brought up on charges of public indecency,” he murmured against her skin.
“I don’t care,” she breathed. “I never want to stop. I should have forgiven you ages ago if it meant this.”
“Wait until we have a bed. I’ll show you just how grateful I am for your forgiveness,” he said against her lips. “I don’t want to put you down.”
“Then let’s walk around like this forever,” she answered, her voice laced with desire and a hunger for more. Always more.
“I can’t pretend to understand … magic, or any of it. But I did the wrong thing once. And I’m not going to give up this second chance. I’ll be here for you. With all of it.”
“Are you asking me to go steady?” she teased.
“I’m asking for a lot more than that, but sure, let’s start there.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and kissed her gently.
They made it back to their booth fifteen minutes before opening time, Sadie’s cheeks flushed, her hand in Jake’s. Raquel gave a slight smirk and bumped her shoulder, her eyes smiling.
Already there were a few customers browsing the table. Sadie finished wrapping up their purchases just as she noticed Seth’s fidgeting. It would only get worse as the night wore on and more people came.
“Go,” she told him. “Raquel, you go with him. We’ve got this covered.”
“Thanks, sister,” he breathed quietly. “It’s just, it’s hard to deal with it all. All the secrets and voices and—all of it.”
“You won’t have to deal with it much longer,” she whispered, her heart beating fast at the thought of what was coming. “We’ll meet you at Old Bailer.”
When Seth was gone, she let herself enter into the enchantment of the festival, all thoughts of Old Bailer and conduit magic forced away. Until Sage gasped.
“Look!” She pointed to the sky, where the pale shadow of a full moon was rising.
Sadie’s heart beat double time, her muscles tensing. She suddenly wanted to throw up.
The rest of the festival passed in a blur. Finally, Jake and Sage went to get the car to load up while Florence and Sadie broke down the tables. They’d been wiped out, every single jar and pastry bag gone except for a single lone Black and White cookie that had been hidden behind a crate. Sadie suspected Sage.
“I’m proud of you,” Florence said as she folded the tablecloths.