Falling Like Leaves (Bramble Falls, #1)(22)

“A big no,” I confirm. “Even if I’m embracing absurdity.”

We continue through the pile, laughing and cringing at some of the options. I ultimately select an off-the-shoulder A-line dress in pistachio green. It’s satin and tea-length and, honestly, showstoppingly adorable.

Sloane picks up the pile of dresses. “Okay, so I was waiting until we were done to say anything, but…”

“But…?”

“I’m supposed to make sure I get you to Jake’s party.”

“Oh yeah? Says who?” I ask.

“Jake, obviously. He’s texted me six times in the last twenty-four hours to remind me. And since you’re not actually studying tonight…”

“I don’t know. I just don’t really feel like going.” Spending the night at a party where I know almost no one doesn’t sound that great. “Are you going?”

“I will if you want me to take you. But I wasn’t planning on going otherwise.”

“Then my vote is no, we don’t go.”

“Okay, do you want to watch a movie?” she asks.

I glance at the old TV and even older DVD player my aunt dragged up here a couple days ago. It sits on a small stand, not hooked up or plugged in.

“What movie?” I ask, trying to remember the last time I sat down and actually watched a movie. I honestly don’t know.

Sloane shrugs. “Practical Magic? ’Tis the season, after all.”

“I’ve never seen it,” I tell her.

Sloane gasps and drops the pile of dresses on the floor. “Ellis, how are we related?” She grabs the unruly cords and plugs the TV in, then tosses the remotes on the bed. “I’ll get the DVD and popcorn. You turn everything on.”

“Okay.”

“Be prepared to fall in love with these two sisters and their aunts,” Sloane calls as she hops down the stairs.

Twenty minutes later, my cousin and I are lying on our bellies on my bed, getting crumbs and kernels in my sheets, and watching Sally take measures not to fall in love.

It’s the most fun I’ve had in a really long time.





Chapter Nine




When Sloane and I arrive at the town square the next day, Aunt Naomi is already there directing volunteers to their assigned places. I watch her, in awe of how she can be in charge of so many people, have so much to keep organized and running smoothly, and still manage to be warm toward people and not at all frazzled.

In the gazebo, a violinist in a gaudy pink dress sets up her music stand. Round white tables, ranging from two-tops to six-tops, are placed across the lawn. Ceramic teacups with delicate fall patterns sit on matching saucers atop cream cotton tablecloths. Golden-orange wildflower centerpieces donated from a local flower farm top off the look.

“Oh my goodness! You two look gorgeous,” Aunt Naomi says as Sloane and I approach.

“We look ridiculous,” I correct her.

“You don’t feel like you’re dressed for the Kentucky Derby?” Aunt Naomi asks, gesturing at her very large hat.

“I think we’d look a little extra even at the Kentucky Derby,” I laugh.

“Extra is good. You remember that,” she says with a wink.

“Do you need anything before we go to the raffle-ticket table?” Sloane asks, her eyes scanning the square for something—or someone.

“Oh no. You’re good to head over whenever you’re ready. You girls have fun!” Aunt Naomi waves at someone behind us, and she’s gone in a blink.

We take a short walk around the square, and Sloane points out what will be happening in the various locations throughout the day. I’m so busy getting the tea party rundown that I don’t notice Cooper sitting at the raffle table until we’re standing right in front of it. He’s staring at his phone and doesn’t seem to notice us, either, which is good because I can barely look away.

He has on a dark green tie and gray suspenders over a white dress shirt that fits him snugly in all the right places, and his sleeves are rolled up to just below his elbows. Although I can’t see his full outfit behind the red BRAMBLE FALLS APPLE CIDER TEA PARTY RAFFLE banner hanging from the front of the table, his top half is enough to stop me mid-sentence.

He finally looks up, catching me staring. “What’s up?”

“Um, what are you doing?” I ask him.

“What do you mean?” he asks, confused.

“Sloane and I are working this table. You should ask Aunt Naomi where you’re supposed to—”

“Actually,” Sloane interjects, “my mom made me a greeter.”

I look at her. “What? When?”

“She just told me this morning.”

Sloane has always been the worst liar. We could never get away with anything when we were younger if it meant her having to tell our parents a fib. And this lie is written all over her pretty face.

“But you just asked her—”

“Anyway, you two have fun! Bye!” She turns and nearly sprints away.

I sigh and sit in the chair next to Cooper.

“Sloane’s an awful liar,” Cooper says, scrolling on his phone.

“Yep.”

“So… why’d she tell Naomi to trade our jobs?” he asks, setting his phone right next to mine on the table between us.