Words Y/N Y/L/N never thought she would hear when she took over management of the beloved apple orchard where she grew up. But, times were tough, and even her best wasn’t good enough to keep the place in the black. More determined than ever, Y/N immediately begins to make a plan to buy out the place from the family name. She can’t stomach the idea of anyone else owning the orchard.
Jensen Ackles has done the same thing for the last fifteen years: star on Supernatural. After the show is over, he finds himself restless; anxious for something completely new. Considering a new venture – an apple orchard on the East Coast – Jensen heads out to Massachusetts to take a look at the farm and decide if this will be the new chapter in his life.
Y/N and Jensen hit it off at first, until his true intentions are made known. Will Y/N let a little white lie be the grudge she holds onto forever, or will Jensen be able to cross the distance she put between them? Also … who’s going to get the orchard?
Summary: Life moves on.
Pairing: Jensen x Reader
Word Count: 1564
Warnings: Set post-Season 15, which I know makes a lot of people sad to think about.
Square Filled: This entire series will fill my proposal square for BTZ Bingo.
A/N: Ah, the tenth and final chapter! I’m so grateful to everyone who read and and commented and reblogged and ... all of things ... for this series. I wasn’t sure after coming back for so long that I would still have any readers, but you all surprised me, and I feel the love! Hope you enjoy this fluffy ending :)
Masterlist
The airport was busier than normal, but you supposed that was to be expected a few days before the holiday. Once you found a parking spot near the arrivals gate, you zipped your coat a little higher and rushed inside, anxious to both get out of the cold and meet your visitor.
Your threat to Stephen hadn’t been so wrong -- by the time the lawyer was done with him, by the time he settled everything that needed to be made right, Stephen’s choice was more or less sign over everything you asked for or do jail time for fraud. The Farmer’s Stand, Ms. Kitty’s house, and the remainder of Ms. Kitty’s late husband’s estate was now legally yours. The only thing Stephen had left to his name was his own house, though he only stayed there long enough to sell the place and move into Boston.
You put Ms. Kitty’s house back into her name, gave back her husband’s estate, but, at her urging, kept The Farmer’s Stand.
The farm was yours, as it had always rightfully been. As soon as all of the proceedings were finalized, you decorated the inside of the house for Christmas -- you were too excited to wait.
You bit your lip as you waited, raising up on your toes and craning your neck to see through the throngs of travelers arriving at the Boston airport. Worry gripped you just a second before you saw Jensen smiling at you, coming down from his arrival gate.
With an excited squeal, you ran towards him, jumping into his arms. He was ready for it, and wrapped his arms around you tight, kissing you as though he had been gone a few years and not only weeks.
“Missed you,” Jensen mumbled into your ear when you stopped kissing him and pressed your cheek to his.
You drew in a deep breath; you had missed his smell. “Not as much as I missed you.”
* * * * *
Ms. Kitty was waiting at Y/N’s house when they returned from Boston. Jensen held tight to Y/N’s hand as they climbed the steps. He had an entire house to unpack, but he wasn’t in a rush.
Once everything in Attleboro was settled, Jensen had gone back to Texas to tie up some loose ends there, and pack for the move to Roosevelt Street. Leaving Y/N had been difficult, and he knew that she had been anxious about him leaving -- and the possibility that he wouldn’t come back after they spent time apart -- but nightly phone calls and text messages throughout the day had seemed to quell her tension.
“The house looks amazing,” Jensen said, taking his coat off and hanging it in the closet, “though I expected nothing less for Christmas -- or any other holiday. And --” He sniffed the air. “-- do I smell cinnamon rolls?”
Y/N smiled and nodded.
“Apple cinnamon rolls?” Jensen pushed.
Y/N laughed. “Jensen Ackles, you think I would make any other type of cinnamon roll in this house? C’mon, Kitty’s waiting for you.”
The older woman was in the kitchen, starting a pot of coffee. Jensen called her name, and she turned with a smile to hug him almost as tightly as Y/N had at the airport.
“So good to have you back,” Kitty greeted.
“So good to be back,” Jensen returned. “How’s everything?”
“Just as you left it,” she assured.
The three of them sat at the table to catch up, although not much had happened in the last several weeks since Jensen had left for Texas. Considering how eventful his first month in Attleboro had been, they were all grateful for the change of pace.
“Dad will be here tomorrow, and will stay until the New Year. He said he’s happy to help you with any projects at the Roosevelt house, if you want,” Y/N informed him.
Kitty swallowed a sip of coffee and nodded. “Yes, and if you have interior decorating needs, I’m a lady with a lot of time on my hands these days!”
Jensen laughed, and so did the two women. He knew that Kitty was still at the Farmer’s Stand on the weekends, but was otherwise enjoying what essentially equated to her retirement.
While Y/N took Kitty home, Jensen showered and cleaned up the kitchen, then helped himself to another cinnamon roll. His cheek was stuffed and crumbs dotted his short beard when Y/N walked in the front door. She laughed and joined her coat in the closet with his.
“You’re a mess,” she teased, taking a seat on the stool beside him at the kitchen counter.
Jensen nodded. “These are too good to care about not being a mess.”
She reached up to wipe a bit from his bottom lip. “I’m glad you like them. Are you tired?”
“Not as much as I thought I would be after flying today. How about you?”
Y/N shook her head. “I think I’m too excited that you’re here to be tired. We could watch a movie.”
He laughed and agreed a Christmas movie would be nice. While he cleaned up again, she went upstairs to change into comfy pajamas. She came back downstairs and set up the movie, then handed Jensen the remote. She snuggled under his arm and, despite her claims to not be too tired, was asleep before the beginning credits of the movie had finished. Jensen smiled and kissed her forehead, settled back to watch the movie and eventually drift off to sleep himself.
* * * * *
Christmas Day, One Year Later
Jensen opened the door and announced his presence in Y/N’s house. His parents followed behind him, marveling at the beauty of the house and the farm. Y/N came bounding down the stairs, eager to meet Jensen’s parents. Once introductions were done between the three of them, Jensen introduced his parents to Kitty, and to Y/N’s father.
He also introduced them to Stephen; after a few months of living in Boston, that man had somewhat come to his senses. He went to his mother and explained that he had always felt he was expected to stay in Attleboro and run the family business, but had resented that self-imposed expectation for a long time. In turn, right or wrong, he had acted out. Time away had helped him work through those issues, and he wanted to to what he could to reconcile. Y/N had been hesitant, but with the encouragement of Jensen, her father, and Ms. Kitty, she had forgiven Stephen, too.
They were all together for the holiday now, and Jensen was nervously excited. He had a reason for wanting his parents here, for wanting all of them together. He only hoped things would go according to plan.
Y/N and Kitty had put a lot of hard work into dinner, and his mother joined in to help after she arrived. They had the food ready quickly, and everyone sat to eat together.
The conversation flowed until bellies were full and plates were empty. Y/N put on a pot of coffee and brewed hot water for hot chocolate, also. Once everyone had their drink of choice, they gathered around the Christmas tree to exchange gifts. He cleared his throat, took Y/N by the hand and pulled her up from her seat.
“Before we do this, I wanna steal you away for a few minutes. Is that okay?”
Y/N looked at the family surrounding them, all with big smiles on their faces and nodded. “Okay, yeah, sure.”
He set both of their mugs on the kitchen counter as he led her out through the back slider. She shivered and huddled close to him for warmth. Their boots crunched through the snow as they walked toward the orchard. The trees were lit up with multi-colored lights; silver tinsel fluttered in the light breeze and reflected off of the light.
Jensen stopped them close to the trees where he reached for her hand and laced his fingers with hers. “Do you remember the first time we stood here like this?”
Y/N looked up at him with a smile. “Yeah, I do.”
He took her other hand. “That was the moment I fell in love with you, I think. It was the moment my heart knew you were the one -- you were the reason I came here. Not the farm, not really.”
Jensen kept a hold of her hands while he kneeled on one knee in the snow. He let go of her hands long enough to take the ring box from his pocket, and present the ring to her. Y/N’s hands flew to cover her mouth.
“You are the reason, Y/N. You’re my reason, for everything. I love you. Will you marry me?”
She sniffled back happy tears. “You’re gonna get frostbite on your knee.”
“That’s your concern right now?” Jensen chuckled.
“I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting this, at all. I think I’m not processing.” With a deep breath, Y/N composed herself. “Yes. Yes!”
Jensen slid the ring on her finger then stood and wrapped his arms around her. He kissed her sweetly, not entirely unlike the first time they had kissed. Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck and Jensen knew in that moment, with complete certainty, that he was home.
Summary: Just as Y/N begins to move on, a late night visitor changes her perspective
Pairing: Jensen x Reader
Word Count: 1734
Warnings: Set post-Season 15, which I know makes a lot of people sad to think about.
Square Filled: This entire series will fill my proposal square for BTZ Bingo.
A/N: Thank you for your patience in my absence! Life just happens, but I’m so excited to get this series wrapped up and share the finished story with all of you! Happy November!
Masterlist
The first thing Jensen did Monday morning was head over to Bartholomew Kemp’s office. He met Mr. Y/L/N in the parking lot, and they walked in together.
Bartholomew heard their case, reviewed the documents Jensen had gotten from Kitty, and then set all of the paperwork aside.
“We have a lot of new tasks on the to-do list, gentlemen,” Bartholomew announced. “I’ve got to contact lawyers and Stephen’s accountant -- a lot of people. Y/N called me this morning to let me know she would like to accept your offer, Jensen, but in light of this new information, I think it’s important that we pursue this first so that sale isn’t complicated.”
“If that sale happens, right?” Jensen asked. “I mean, I love the farm, I do, but it’s Y/N’s home. If this all means what I think it means, she should keep it. I have no problem withdrawing my offer.”
“I’ve had my suspicions about that anonymous offer from the very beginning,” Bartholomew admitted, “but this just might be a confirmation. Stick around if you’d like, gentlemen. I’ll be working on this for a while.”
Both Jensen and Mr. Y/L/N stayed exactly where they were.
* * * * *
Although Jensen was supposed to meet you for lunch, he sent you a text that something had come up and he wouldn’t be able to make it. He promised to take you out for dinner to make up for it, so you microwaved one of the frozen dinners you kept handy for when you were too busy or too lazy to make lunch and settled yourself in Taylor’s classroom.
“Think he’ll show for dinner?”
Taylor frowned. “Why wouldn’t he?”
“I told him last night that I was gonna take his offer. Now he’s canceled lunch.”
“Oh, stop it. You’re going to psych yourself right out of a decent relationship, and I won’t let you do it. Jensen is a good thing. Just let it happen.”
After a deep inhale, you promised her that you would try. You finished your lunch, stopped in the lounge to rinse out your container, then returned to your classroom with a new determination to stay positive. It was difficult to let go of the control you thought you had over your life, but you figured it was high time you stopped trying to control what was out of your hands.
You were pleasantly surprised when you made way to your car to leave school for the day and saw Jensen leaning against your car. Breaking out in a smile, you quickened your step to get to him. He turned when you called his name, smiling and stretching his arms out to pull you close. He kissed you sweetly, and all of your worries about his intentions faded away.
“This was a little further walk than I thought it was going to be,” Jensen chuckled.
You loaded your bags into the backseat then motioned for him to get in the passenger seat. “I’ve got to make a stop. You mind going with me?”
Jensen leaned over the console and kissed you again. “I’ll go wherever you want to go.”
* * * * *
With a smile, you started the ignition and navigated over to a house on Roosevelt with a For Sale sign in the front yard. It was smaller than the farmhouse, looked as though it had been well-maintenanced. Y/N looked so excited, he didn’t dare ask her if she was sure she was ready to look at new houses.
The realtor took them on a tour through the empty house. Three bedrooms, two bathrooms. A spacious kitchen, well-lit living room, and even a sunroom at the back of the house.
“I’ve always wanted a sunroom,” Y/N mused, pulling her jacket tighter.
Jensen smiled, trying to come across as encouraging. “You would make it a great home, Y/N.”
She smiled back, but her heart wasn’t in the expression. The realtor told Y/N that the house had been on the market for a while now, but wouldn’t be around forever.
“I’ll decide soon,” Y/N promised before they left the house.
In the car, she kept her eyes forward. “I know we were supposed to have a dinner date, but could I maybe take a raincheck? I’m really tired.”
Jensen reached over to squeeze her hand. “Yeah, of course. Do you want to go home and nap, and I’ll bring some food later?”
Y/N nodded as she backed out of the driveway. “Yeah. That would be nice.”
She dropped him off at the hotel and he decided to take a power nap of his own before going to the grocery store for the items he needed to cook for her later that evening.
* * * * *
After Jensen made you a delicious supper and ate with you, he cleaned the kitchen while you took a long, hot shower. When you came out, he was laid back on the couch, resting his eyes. You placed a hand on his chest, and his eyes slowly opened.
“I’m going to go back to the hotel, let you have some time to yourself, and I’ll see you tomorrow for lunch to make up for today.”
You leaned forward to kiss him. “You don’t have to do that. You already cooked for me tonight -- cooked and cleaned, in fact.”
Jensen carded his hands into your hair and kissed you, much deeper than you had kissed him. Your hands reached up to hold his face as the moment continued to heat up. You weren’t sure what had suddenly sparked between the two of you, but you were ready to ride it out, wherever the moment took you.
Of course, before you had completed your transition on top of Jensen, the doorbell rang. With a giggle and a groan, you cleared your throat and went to the front door. Your smile quickly changed to a frown.
“Ms. Kitty?”
She swallowed hard and looked back at the taillights of the cab pulling away from your house. Jensen had taken the time to straighten his clothes and smooth his hair, and then stood behind you.
“I’m sorry to interrupt,” she apologized with a shaky voice, “I didn’t know where else to go.”
“Of course, come in.” You took her by the hand and sat her on the couch. “Would you like some coffee? Tea?”
She nodded. “Tea would be nice.”
You started the hot water, and Jensen took Kitty’s coat and gloves to the closet. Everything was quiet until you handed Kitty a cup of tea.
“Jay, tea?” you offered.
He shook his head. “No, I’m going to go, let you ladies talk. You call if you need anything, all right?”
“Okay. Thank you.”
The two of you shared a sweet kiss. Jensen hugged Kitty, then went on his way back to the hotel. You made yourself a cup of coffee, then sat on the couch with Kitty.
She sipped at her tea, working to keep herself composed. You didn’t rush her; some things needed gumption to be said, and you figured she was working up that gumption.
“Steven’s sold my house,” she finally announced, quietly.
You gasped. “What? Why would he do such a thing?”
Kitty shook her head. “My husband’s name was on everything. When we were married, that was just the way things were done. When he got sick, we decided that it would be easier to leave everything in Stephen’s name, since it would all go to him eventually, and then he could help me with the estate, including the house and the business.”
You set your coffee down so that you could hug her. When you pulled away, you asked her again what prompted Stephen to do such a thing.
Kitty’s chin quivered when she finally met eyes with you. “Oh, Y/N. Your family has always been so important to me. That’s why I wouldn’t allow Stephen to cut your products from the market. He -- he’s been reporting your sales wrong. I stumbled across it a year or so ago, and I’ve been trying to figure out what to do. I love you and your family, but Stephen -- he’s my son.” She shook her head. “When Jensen asked me for the sales records on the place, since he had placed an offer, I was actually excited. Someone else would figure it out and could tell you! But then Stephen found out that I had given him the records, and he blew up. My face must have given it away … He’s already changed the locks!”
She began to really cry then, so you hugged her again and let her cry it out. You wanted to find Stephen and beat the crap out of him -- for the things he had done to your family, for what he had done for Ms. Kitty, and there was a tiny sliver of you that wanted to kick his ass just for the hell of it.
“You’re going to stay here,” you decided. Ms. Kitty shook her head, but you wouldn’t allow her to protest. “It doesn’t have to be forever, and if you have to come to the new house with me, that’s fine, too. I won’t let you be out on the streets. And tomorrow, we’re going to talk to someone and get your things back!”
She sniffled and agreed, though you thought it was mostly because she was too tired to argue. After the two of you finished off your cooled drinks, you got her a nightgown to wear and started a load of laundry so she could have clean clothes the next day. While you waited for the wash to finish, you contemplated calling Jensen. Why hadn’t he told you what was going on? Had he already confronted Stephen, and that’s what really set the other man off? But, you knew you were irrationally upset about that part of it. Knowing Jensen as you did, even at this point, it was more likely that he was waiting to get more concrete information before saying anything to you.
For that reason, you sent him a text to let him know that Kitty was staying with you for the time being, and that you had called off work the next day. You asked both Jensen and your father to come over the next morning; between the four of you, perhaps this whole situation could be sorted out.
Summary: With the truth out in the open, Y/N and Jensen, along with her father and Ms. Kitty, make a plan for the next step.
Pairing: Jensen x Reader
Word Count: 1982
Warnings: Set post-Season 15, which I know makes a lot of people sad to think about.
Square Filled: This entire series will fill my proposal square for BTZ Bingo.
A/N: I must apologize again for the length of time between chapters. Life is ... life, and I’m doing the best I can. I’m going to try and make the final part not be so far out from this one!
Masterlist
You were up early the next morning, having slept surprisingly well the night before. You tried to be quiet so as not to wake Kitty, but you sent out a text inviting your father and Jensen over whenever they woke up, then got in the shower. Once you were ready and dressed, you got to work on a big breakfast spread. Maybe it was nervous energy, but you didn’t want to sit still for a single minute.
Your father was the first one to show up, while Ms. Kitty was getting ready for the day herself. You poured him a cup of coffee and slid it over the counter.
“Y/N.”
“Yeah?”
“Look at me.”
You looked at your father with tears brimming in your eyes. “I can’t. Dad — how did I not know all of this was happening? How could I have been so naive?”
“Sweetheart,” your father soothed, reaching across the counter to take your hand, “not even Bartholomew knew — and he’s been doing his job for a really long time. Just the same as if the farm had actually been failing, this is not your fault. Stephen is greedy, he’s manipulating, he’s conniving. But this is not your fault. Do you understand?”
You nodded and took some deep breaths as Kitty came down the stairs. You didn’t want her to know how upset you were by all of this — it was too close for her. She declined coffee but accepted a mug of tea. You filled the kettle with water, set it to boil, then went to answer the knock on the door.
You smiled when you saw Jensen standing on the other side. “You didn’t have to knock.”
He shrugged and handed you the small bouquet of flowers. “I know I already got you flowers, but I —” He paused to chuckle nervously. “-- honestly, I feel horrible, Y/N about not including you at first in all of this. I wanted to know that I had some concrete information before I got your hopes up.”
Taking the flowers, you lifted your head to kiss him. “Don’t even worry about it. I appreciate you trying to protect me from getting my hopes up too high. Dad and Kitty are already here, breakfast is ready, and I’ve got coffee on.”
You walked ahead of him, but Jensen pulled you back, kissing you again. You smiled and took his hand, leading him toward the kitchen.
“Bartholomew is going to come over, too,” your father announced, tucking his mobile phone back into his pocket. “How about we all enjoy this breakfast you’ve made, and we’ll wait to talk business when Bartholomew gets here?”
Everyone agreed that was the best way to go; no sense in starting the day on such a negative note.
* * * * *
“This has been going on since just before you took over, Y/N,” Bartholomew reported after you had time to look through the thick stack of papers he offered. Everyone had a copy, but you scanned through them quickly. You just wanted to know what was going on.
“How much money has he stolen?” you asked.
Bartholomew directed you to the end page of the report he had offered, where the number was listed. “It’s no small amount. If you wanted to, Y/N, you could press criminal charges.”
“What about Kitty’s house?” You were fully aware that you were not the only one who had been wronged in this situation; Kitty was an important friend. She deserved back what had been taken from her, just as much as you did.
“That’s a separate matter, but as of this morning, the lawyer is willing to take that on.” He handed out another few copies of a contractual agreement, this time only for you and your father. “This is a settlement that, if you two are agreeable to it, we can offer to Stephen in place of pressing charges. Or, honestly, we could do both. It’s up to you.”
You exchanged a nervous glance with Kitty who returned your concerned expression with a reassuring smile. “He’s my son, Y/N, but like I told you -- he’s done wrong. There has to be consequences, same as there would be for any other person. Will it be hard for me to watch those consequences be levied on him? Yes, but I do believe it’s the right thing.”
Her reassurance helped to wash away some of the doubts you had about the whole process, in the interest of saving Ms. Kitty the hurt. With her words in mind, you took the time to look over the settlement Bartholomew and the lawyer had come up with to propose. By the end of it, you weren’t sure that Stephen would rather take it to trial or take the settlement. Either way, he was going to lose out, big time.
In the end, your father agreed with you; the best thing to do would be to offer the settlement contract, and if Stephen didn’t accept it, your family would go ahead with criminal charges. Kitty would stay with you until the dust settled, for safety and to keep her out the middle of the situation any more than she already had been involved.
“I’ll go to the lawyer with this then, and we can go from there,” Bartholomew nodded, gathering all of the papers. “I’ll keep you updated. Kitty, I would encourage you to get in touch with the sheriff, so you can at least get some things from the house.”
All of you thanked Bartholomew, then he was on his way. Your father went back to your uncle’s house, while you and Jensen offered to go to Kitty’s house with her. She wasn’t sure she was ready, but she figured she wouldn’t be any time soon.
“I can’t wear the same clothes everyday, I suppose,” she sighed, donning her coat and scarf. “Let’s get this over with.”
* * * * *
Jensen tried to keep both of the women in his rental car in good spirits as they drove over to Kitty’s house. The whole town was a pleasant neighborhood, but Jensen could see this part of town was mostly older people; it was quiet and calm, even more so than the other parts of town.
He pulled into the driveway and turned off the ignition. Kitty got out right away, working her way up to the front porch slowly but surely. Jensen looked over at Y/N; she was staring straight ahead, chewing on her bottom lip like it was the last meal she’d ever had.
“Hey,” he said, taking her hand in his, “you okay?”
Y/N shrugged. “I just want to tell him off. But I’m not sure if I should.”
“I can understand that dilemma. Bartholomew didn’t tell you not to talk to him, but you don’t want to hurt your case, either.”
Y/N nodded and turned her attention back to Kitty, who was still waiting for Stephen to open the door. They had driven by the Farmer’s Market on their way over, so the trio knew Stephen wasn’t there. It only made sense that he was here at the house. After a few more minutes, Y/N sighed and got out of the car.
“Maybe we’ll have to wait for the sheriff after all,” she sighed. “I’ll get Kitty. Maybe we can take her by the store to get some things in the meantime.”
Jensen watched from the car as Y/N climbed the porch steps and took the older woman by the elbow. He could see Y/N trying to convince Kitty to leave, could see Kitty pointing to the door. Then, he saw the front door swing open, and an angry Stephen appear in front of the women. He was out of the car in a second.
“This isn’t your house anymore!” Stephen was yelling. “The house was left to me, Mother, and you clearly don’t support me or the business, so you’ll have no part of any of it anymore!”
Jensen caught up to them and took both women by the hand. Kitty went with him willingly, but Y/N wrenched her hand from his. He put an arm around Kitty and kept a careful eye on Y/N.
“You know what, I told myself I wouldn’t say anything to you when we came here,” Y/N started, calm but stern, “but here we are, so I might as well say what’s on my mind. You’re the lowest of the low, you know that? Putting your mother out of the house -- are you crazy? Not to mention, you’ve been stealing from my family for a while now! Well, don’t you worry, Stephen. We’re on to you, and you’ve got some visitors coming your way.”
Stephen crossed his arms over his chest and narrowed his eyes. “Is that a threat?”
Y/N crossed her arms as well and shrugged. “Call it fair warning. Oh, and by the way, when you steal money from someone and then kick your own mother out of her own home for revealing that theft, you make your anonymous offers pretty obvious. I don’t know why you wanted to own the farm, but trust me, once all of this is over -- I’ll own you.”
Y/N turned to go, taking Kitty by the hand and helping the older lady into the car. Stephen took a step towards Y/N; Jensen stepped towards Stephen.
“I think you probably would be better off if you just go back in the house,” Jensen commented, careful to make his statement not sound like any sort of warning or threat.
Too much of a coward for a physical confrontation, Stephen huffed and turned back into the house. Jensen turned, too, and saw that the women had already gotten back in the car. They went by the department store first, to get Kitty some things, then went back to Y/N’s house.
Both Y/N and Kitty had been quiet throughout the trip. It wrenched Jensen’s heart, and he immediately began to think of something he could do to cheer them up while everything was put into motion.
* * * * *
You helped Kitty up to the room she was staying in, then left her to get settled with the new things that had just been purchased for her. Wishing there was more you could do for her, you returned to the main floor, where Jensen was just getting off the phone.
“Listen, I’m going to go back to the hotel for a little bit. Do you think you and Kitty can be ready to go on an overnight trip in a couple of hours?”
Y/N frowned. “I’m sure we could, but … what are you talking about?”
Jensen chuckled. “Fair question. I’ve confirmed with Bartholomew that nothing will process with the lawyers and the paperwork till day after tomorrow. I think both of you could use some time away. I’ll get a couple of rooms in Boston, take you ladies out for dinner. A small distraction from all of this.”
You went up on tiptoe to kiss him. “You’re such a sweet man. Thank you.”
“It’s my pleasure, Y/N.” He smiled at you before making his way to the door. You had a sudden thought and called after him; he turned with his brow raised.
“I just -- before we go on this Boston trip, I wanted to ask … will you go back to Texas? You know, since the farm may not be up for sale anymore?”
Jensen smirked and shook his head. “I’m all set in Texas. I like it here, and I think there’s still at least one exciting prospect I’d like to pursue. And, you know, I hear there’s a nice house over on Roosevelt up for sale.”
You grinned and rushed towards him, throwing your arms over his shoulders and pressing your lips hard against his.
Summary: Y/N gets bad news about her beloved home. Jensen arrives in Boston following a potentially rash decision.
Pairing: None ... yet.
Word Count: 1507
Warnings: Drinking. Set post-Season 15, which I know makes a lot of people sad to think about.
Square Filled: This entire series will fill my proposal square for BTZ Bingo.
A/N: I’m so excited to be posting a series here again! In case you missed the announcement, this will fall in line with series I’ve written before like Hard to Find, or True Fluff. The taglist is open, so if you like what you read here, feel free to request to be added! HUGE THANKS to @atc74 and @d-s-winchester for not only encouraging me to come back and write when I was ready, but for hearing me out about this series. I love you both to pieces!
The nature of living with an apple orchard in your backyard was that the house always had a slight tinge of apple scent to it. When you pulled out the season’s first pan of apple cinnamon cookies from the oven, the scent only grew stronger. You smiled; this was the smell of your childhood. You and your grandmother had spent countless hours in this kitchen, preparing this very recipe -- one that had been handed down over four generations now.
You waited for the cookies to cool a bit before using a nylon spatula to slide them from the still-warm pan to the wire rack on the cream-colored, tile counter. Using an ice cream scoop to help you keep the portions fairly equal, you loaded the silicon mat on the cookie sheet and again slid the pan into the oven. You set the timer on the oven and washed the bits of cookie dough from your hands.
Outside the window over the kitchen sink, the leaves of the trees decorating the yard were turning the brilliant colors of Autumn: red and yellow and orange. There was even some brown, which didn’t put you off the way the drab color normally would have. Autumn had a late start this year, but here it was, right before your eyes.
“That bodes well for the Fall Festival,” you smiled to yourself, not caring that no one was around to listen. The festival was something you looked forward to every year since you were a kid; for you, it was right up there with decorating for Christmas.
You finished the cookies, loaded and started the dishwasher, then put the cookies in an airtight container -- but not before sneaking one for yourself.
“Just like Granny made.”
Satisfied with your baking endeavor, you left the cookies alone and went to freshen up for your meeting with the farm’s business manager. This was something you did monthly, to make certain everything was in order, and while you normally didn’t mind the business side of running the place, things hadn’t exactly been looking up lately.
Bartholomew Kemp was a good man. He had grown up with your father and knew your family well. After your grandparents died and your father moved to the Midwest where most of the extended family lived now, you stayed behind in Massachusetts to keep watch over the family farm.
It wasn’t much, really. Thirty-five acres of land, most of which were taken up with the orchard. The main house and the barn took up a couple of acres, and there was a small pumpkin patch that covered a few acres, too. There was a lot of upkeep required, but you loved every inch of the place, and the people who worked the land so that you could stay there and keep everything in your family’s name.
The pleasant thoughts of the place you called home faded away when you saw Bartholomew’s face. As soon as his eyes registered your presence, his expression read regret.
“It’s not good, Y/N,” Bartholomew sighed, handing over the latest financial reports. “Nothing has improved with the ripening of the apples and your sales. They’re not flying out of the market the same way they used to do. More people are buying organic from the store than chancing recalls by buying direct locally.”
You frowned as you looked over the numbers. “I don’t understand. I mean -- I understand these reports coming back from the market, but I don’t understand why I’m not getting more stock back, then. The market is constantly asking for more apples, and they’ve already cleared out of our pumpkins once … it doesn’t make sense.”
“I wish I had an explanation for you, but the numbers are all there. I’ve checked and double-checked them. Triple-checked.”
You drew in a deep breath, willing yourself to not have an emotional reaction until you were alone in your car, if not all the way home. You set your copies of the reports on the desk and looked at Bartholomew.
“So, what does this mean?”
The older man leaned forward on his desk. He looked around as if wishing someone would come in and interrupt. Finally, he looked you in the eye.
“You’re going to have to sell, Y/N.”
Tears stung your eyes, and professionalism went out the window. “Sell? No, Mr. Kemp, I can’t sell! That’s my home -- my family’s home. My dad retired and moved West and he left me the place. He trusted me!”
Bartholomew reached across the table to take your hand. He squeezed, an effort to reassure you. “And you’ve done a great job, dear, but it’s the times. It’s not you. Your father has no reason to be anything other than proud of you.”
“What about -- what about refinancing?”
You could see from his demeanor this wasn’t an easy conversation. “You could try, but -- you are an amazing teacher. The kids and parents alike love you. Your employees all love you. I don’t know if that’s something you can take to the bank against your salary, though.”
“The least I can do is try.”
Bartholomew nodded. He gave you a manila envelope to put all the reports in, and offered his assistance with your loan application should you need any. You thanked him again, then hightailed it out to your car. Before you had the key in the ignition, you lost control of your emotions. The tears flowed freely all the way back home.
* * * * *
While he waited to get off the plane in Boston, Jensen adjusted the ball cap he was sporting, then quietly undid his seatbelt. He didn’t want to catch any complaints from the flight attendants for unbuckling while the seatbelt light was still on, but having the thing secured was giving him some weird sort of anxiety.
The passengers were finally allowed to file into the airport. Jensen shouldered his carry-on and made way for the rental car counter. Once behind the wheel, the GPS told him it was an hour drive from Boston to Attleboro.
“An hour?” he groaned. “Nah. I’ll get a hotel and find the town tomorrow.”
Jensen’s first thought was to head to the Four Seasons, but he made a last-minute decision to book a room at the DoubleTree instead. It wasn’t about money, it was about simplicity. Wasn’t that the whole point of this trip? To simplify his life?
Once settled in his room, he ordered from a delivery service that would bring him both food and alcohol, turned on his favorite playlist, and stared out the window. Below him, cars raced past. People huddled in thick jackets against the chilly wind. Vancouver was probably colder now than Boston, but it was still about twenty degrees colder than Austin.
Jensen took a deep breath and turned away from the window. He pulled clean boxers from his bag and let out that breath as he headed for a hot shower. All he needed was a quick one before the delivery service showed up to get his head straight.
“A quick, hot shower,” he muttered, turning his face away from the initial cold spray of water, “and to find a place to be.”
After fifteen years on the same show with not much to vary his days, Supernatural had ended. He didn’t regret a minute of being on the show, being around the fans, or the family that had formed during his years as Dean Winchester. Now, though, he was restless. Summer was fine; those weeks felt like hiatus. Then August came and, of course, filming still had not resumed, and the restlessness had set in.
No scripts came through that caught his interest. The Austin nightlife wasn’t really keeping his attention, but there didn’t seem to be a point in going back to Vancouver. So, he started looking for other options. How this orchard had even come across his screen, Jensen couldn’t remember. He only knew that once the seed was planted in his mind, he couldn’t stop thinking about it.
So now Jensen was laying on a hotel bed in Boston, watching sports highlights on television and knocking back whiskey on the rocks. Tomorrow, when he woke up, maybe he wouldn’t even be interested in the orchard anymore -- he’d just take a plane back to Texas and be back at square one.
“Put the lid on the whiskey bottle, Ackles. Call it a night.”
Taking his own advice, he knocked back what was left in his glass, put the bottle across the room for now, and turned off the lights. He set the sleep timer on the TV and drifted off to a restless sleep.
When Jensen woke up the next morning, the sun was barely peeking over the horizon. Seeing and potentially buying the orchard seemed less like an irrational choice and more of the quiet, new adventure he was seeking. There were new possibilities here, he could feel it in his bones -- and he couldn’t get on the road fast enough to find out just what those possibilities were.
Summary: The Fall Festival continues.
Pairing: Jensen x Reader
Word Count: 2409
Warnings: Set post-Season 15, which I know makes a lot of people sad to think about.
Square Filled: This entire series will fill my proposal square for BTZ Bingo.
A/N: Thank you for the continued support! I am loving writing this series :) Enjoy this fluffy chapter! Thank you to @jerkbitchidjitassbutt who let me use her requested drabble prompt for this (bolded), and @atc74 who helped me pick a song for the moment ... don’t want to give to much away, but you’ll know it when it comes.
Masterlist
Friday afternoon went about the same as Thursday, except now Jensen was more comfortable with the register. The two of you sat behind the counter, making small talk and joking like you were old pals. It was a comfortable familiarity that made you like him even more.
Ms. Kitty would trade out with the two of you sometimes, give you the chance to mingle with other patrons of the festival. Some of them were local, some had traveled from places like Boston and Providence.
Towards the early evening, Stephen came in to close The Farmer’s Stand for the day. Normally the market would have stayed open later, but on the festival weekend, it gave everyone the chance to enjoy the festivities. Tonight was the chili cook-off. With Ms. Kitty’s blessing, you and Jensen walked from The Farmer’s Stand over to the main square, where tables were all set up. Each cook stood behind their table, offering bowls of chili scooped from deep pots or huge crockpots.
“So, I normally walk around and check out all of them, then decide which one I want to eat,” you informed Jensen. “Not a big fan of the spicy stuff, so I stay away from those. How about you?”
Jensen puffed out his chest. “Oh, bring on the spice! The spicier the better!”
“Oh, really, Mister?” You challenged him with your brow raised. “Okay. Come on then, let’s go see the Randalls table. You’ll smell their chili from a few feet away.”
The closer the two of you got to the Randalls’ table, the more nervous Jensen looked. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself. He had tried to act all macho, and now you were calling his bluff. You couldn’t wait to see how this turned out.
“Hey, Genita,” you greeted the wife. “This is Jensen, he’s new in town. He says he likes spicy.”
“Well, you came to the right place then, darlin’.” Genita reached for a plastic spoon and a Dixie cup to scoop out a sample for Jensen.
He looked like he was going to be sick before the spoon and cup were even in his hand. You hurried to pull up the video feature on your phone. Jensen took a generous bite of the sample, and seemed okay -- for about a second and a half. He threw the cup and spoon into the nearby bin, cough and sputtered as he swallowed down the chili, then accepted the beer from Ray, Genita’s husband. He chugged down half the bottle before he took another breath.
“How ya feelin’, tiger?” you teased, still pointing the camera at him.
Jensen’s eyes grew wide. “Oh, you are not videoing this!”
“Oh yes I am!” you laughed.
Your laughter grew deeper and the phone fell away when Jensen attacked you with his free arm wrapped around you and tickling your side. You shrieked and squealed, begging him to stop. Finally, you managed to grab the beer can from him and finish off a good portion of the rest of it.
“Hey!” he said, taking it back and finishing it off. “Can’t believe you.”
“Can’t you?” you smiled, finding your phone and tucking it into your back pocket.
The two of you grinned up at each other as you walked with him over to the table of the family that usually made your favorite chili.
* * * * *
Jensen couldn’t get to The Farmer’s Stand fast enough Saturday morning. He hadn’t wanted to leave Y/N’s side the night before when they parted from the square, but the hotel was in the opposite direction of the The Farmer’s Stand where she had left her car. Today, they would spend the morning at the market, then go back to the farm until the carnival that evening. He was looking forward to seeing visitors react to the activities on the farm for the first time -- and seeing Y/N interact with all of them.
“Y/N called this morning, she’s running late -- they needed a little more help setting the final details. Although, by ‘they needed help’, I assume she means she really wanted things perfect for her last Fall Festival there.” Ms. Kitty’s face smiled, but her tone held a note of sadness. “Jensen, dear, I need more price stickers, and there’s some on the desk in the office. Do you mind grabbing them for me?”
“Sure, can do.”
He went into the office and stood behind the desk. The price stickers probably should have been right in view, but he was having trouble spotting them. A manila folder with Y/N’s family name on it caught his eye; he picked it up and glanced through the papers in it.
Months of inventory were recorded on print-outs, and in two columns. It looked like the same month in both columns, but the numbers were different in one column. Jensen frowned; before he could look further into it, Kitty stuck her head in the back.
“Find ‘em?”
Jensen put the folder down and gave the desk another once-over. The price stickers were right there; he wasn’t sure how he had missed them in the first place. He held them up for Kitty and went back out to join her in waiting for Y/N.
* * * * *
You watched from the porch as the last family left, smiling with their bag of apples, and the kids hefting their carefully selected pumpkins into the car. The farm had been bustling all afternoon; you realized how much you were really going to miss this. Sure, there was nothing that said you couldn’t visit the farm once you picked an offer and sold it. It just wouldn’t be the same.
Jensen jogged up the steps to stand next to you. “Been a good afternoon. It’s amazing, watching all these people, come and go.”
You nodded. You had enjoyed spending all of this time with him, but in that moment, already missing what wasn’t even gone yet, you wanted him as far away as possible.
“Going to the carnival tonight?” he asked.
You shrugged. “Probably.”
From your peripheral vision, you could see that he was chewing nervously on his bottom lip. “Do you wanna ride to the market with me, then we can walk over to the square?”
With a deep breath, you turned to face him. You opened your mouth to tell him exactly what was on your mind, but you chickened out, in the end.
“I think I’m gonna take a nap. I’ll see you there, maybe.”
You gave him a tight smile, then went into the house to indeed take that nap and, hopefully, sleep away all of your negative feelings.
* * * * *
When you woke up, you showered off the sweat from the hard couple of hours of sleep. You put yourself together, all the while debating whether you even wanted to go to the carnival or not. People were expecting to see you though, and you couldn’t stand the thought of letting down anyone else.
You wore an off-the-shoulder, comfy sweater, your favorite pair of jeans with the hole in the knee, and a pair of brown lace up boots. You went with your usual curled hair and pretty makeup, then left the house. You parked your car at the market, then walked the way to the square on your own.
A lot of the carnival-goers had been at the farm that day, and they greeted you with a wave. Most of the locals greeted you by name; your heart broke a little more. Would you always be the girl who almost was if you stayed in Attleboro? Maybe sticking around wasn’t such a great idea.
You let go of the thought for now and approached the funnel cake truck. After receiving your snack, you found an open table and took a seat. While you tore pieces away from the sweet, fried food, you watched people walk back and forth. These were your people; your world. Leaving it seemed unimaginable, up until now.
“Hey. I picked this up. Not specifically for you, you know, but if you want it, you can have it.”
You turned toward Jensen where he had slid onto the bench next to you. With a deep breath and a quick decision, you decided not to be harsh. You allowed yourself a half-smile as you took the small bouquet of black-eyed susans from him.
“They’re pretty.”
His smile reflected his relief. “I’m sorry if I’ve been pushing too hard, Y/N. I love being in this town, and learning about the farm and everything you do around here. I’m excited but I know you probably aren’t. So, I’m sorry.”
You shook your head. “You don’t need to apologize, Jensen. I know it’s not personal. It’s just -- that farm is my whole life. Every memory I have, where I lived with my grandparents and my dad up until they passed away and my dad moved to the Midwest. I know it’s time to let go, I’m having a hard time with it is all.”
“Don’t apologize, either.”
“Okay.” You got up to drop your empty plate into a trash bin. You returned with only the flowers in your hand. “What now, Mr. Ackles?”
Jensen offered his elbow. “Dance with me, Y/N.”
More than a little nervous, but remembering that you couldn’t hold him responsible for your personal problems, you tucked your hand into the crook of his arm and let him lead you to the dance floor in the middle of the square. A few couples were already out there dancing, and the two of you fell in line with the rest of them.
Despite your hesitancy, you felt nothing but butterflies when he put one arm around your waist and clasped your free hand with his. You set one arm over his shoulder, still holding tight to those flowers.
When holding your breath is safer than breathing
When letting go is braver than keeping
When innocent words turn to lies
And you can't hide by closing your eyes
The slow song started not long after the two of you started to move over the makeshift dance floor. You were so torn over the moment, and you needed to feel safe. Whether it was coincidence, or Jensen could sense your need for a life raft, he held you closer as you hugged tighter to him.
When pain is all that they offer
Like a kiss from the lips of monster
You know the famine so well, but never met the feast
And home is the belly of the beast
The ocean is wild and over your head
And the boat beneath you is sinking
Don't need room for your bags
Hope is all that you have
So say the Lord's prayer twice, hold your babies tight
Surely someone will reach out a hand
And show you a safe place to land
What the hell was it with moments like this? You needed a safe place to land, and here was this song playing while this man -- this man you hardly knew but wanted to know -- held you close and made you feel just as safe as you needed to feel. More than, even.
The longer the song went on, the tighter you held to Jensen. You still had a suspicion that he was only getting close to you because of the farm, but right now, in this moment, you weren’t going to think about that. You were only going to think about this man that you were attracted to -- hell, that you maybe were starting to care about -- and how much he seemed to wanted you back. When the song was over, Jensen made to move away from you, but you still held tight.
“Wait … don’t pull away. Not yet.”
Without question or hesitation, Jensen stayed right there with you, until you were ready to leave.
* * * * *
Jensen rode back to the farm with Y/N. They hadn’t even spoke about it, he just got in the car, and she seemed to agree that he should accompany her.
She seemed to be nervous as she let them into the house. Immediately going into the kitchen, Y/N took a glass vase from the cupboard and filled with water, then dropped the bouquet of flowers in. She set the vase in the middle of the table, then turned to him.
“Are you thirsty?”
Jensen shook his head. “No. I’m okay. Thanks, though.”
“How about I put on a pot of coffee and we can sit out back and talk? I was gonna sit out there by myself anyway, but the company would be nice.”
He agreed immediately. While the coffee brewed, she went upstairs to change. When she came back down, her hair was in a ponytail, she had exchanged her jeans for leggings, and her feet were bare.
By now, he knew where the coffee cups were. He poured a mug for each of them, and met her at the back slider. Y/N had an armful of blankets, and he could already see extra pillows on the two lounges on the patio.
For the next couple of hours, she told him more or less every memory she’d ever made on that farm. About her grandparents, about her father, about living in the house alone.
“Thank you for telling me all of this,” he said when she finally wrapped up her stories. “I hope I can do this place justice, if you decide to take my offer.”
Y/N drew in a breath and hugged the blanket tighter around herself. “I suppose I should make a decision soon. I just wish I knew who the other offer was coming from. I don’t know if they’d be as nice as you and let me stay through the holidays.”
Jensen pursed his lips. “You know, Y/N, my spending time with you -- yeah, it’s about the farm. I want to know how things are done. I don’t want to ruin any traditions or change things from the way you’ve done them. But I’m not hanging around so you’ll take my offer. When I came here to see the farm, I didn’t plan on you.”
Her smile was unmistakable. “I didn’t really plan on you, either. I guess that goes without saying. I’m not doing any of this so that you’ll keep me around or decide to pull your offer.”
“I know that.”
“Good. Glad we got all of that on the table.”
“Me too.” Jensen stood from the lounge and stretched. “It’s late. I should let you get to bed.”
Y/N stood too, the blanket still wrapped around her. She stood in front of him. “You could take my car back to the hotel, if you want. Or -- or you could stay. I’m not really in a mood to be alone.”
Jensen took a deep breath. His eyes searched hers before he slipped one arm around her waist and let the other arm wrap around her shoulders. She tipped her head up to meet him halfway; when he pressed his lips to hers, Jensen felt, for the first time in a long time, that he was home.
Summary: Y/N begins to show Jensen the ropes around the farm and town, and a new offer is put on the table.
Pairing: None … yet. (But I think we all know where this is going.)
Word Count: 2145
Warnings: Set post-Season 15, which I know makes a lot of people sad to think about.
Square Filled: This entire series will fill my proposal square for BTZ Bingo.
A/N: Thank you for the continued support! I am loving writing this series :)
Masterlist
Bartholomew Kemp’s office was quickly becoming your least favorite place to visit. Since he had told you that you would have to sell your family’s farm, the bad news had continued to roll your way.
Today, you were visiting after the discussion with your father, letting him know what was going on, that an offer had been made, and that you were likely going to accept it. Your father had cautioned you about accepting the offer, and stated that he would talk to Bartholomew himself. He trusted the old business manager, but he determined that two business minds were better than one. If it meant the slightest possibility that you could keep the place, you were okay with that.
“I’m gathering the paperwork for your father,” Bartholomew informed you, “but in the meantime, you’ve got another, anonymous offer on the property.”
“Another offer?” you frowned. “Why is it anonymous?”
He shrugged. “It came from the bank, and they simply stated that their client wishes to remain anonymous -- they can do that, I suppose.”
You tried for the millionth time not to cry over all of this. “How does it compare to Jensen’s offer?”
“It’s fairly competitive. I’ll send this to your father, and I’ll send copies home for you to look at. How are things going in the meantime?”
“They’re going,” you shrugged. “I -- it’s more personal, I guess, but I made a peace offering to Jensen. He agreed to let me stay through the holidays, although now I guess that depends on which offer we take. In the meantime, I’m going to show him around the place more, how things run and all that. He’s coming over later to help me start prepping for the festival this weekend.”
Bartholomew kept his smile to himself. “Well, that’s a turn of events. Let me make a copy of this, and I’ll send you on your way so you can get ready for company.”
You waited patiently for the necessary documents, wishing with all your might that none of this was actually happening. You were past the stage of believing it had to be a bad dream, but that didn’t stop you from wanting, every now and then, to be past the sale and moving on with your life.
And to add another offer on to the plate? You knew that the land was good, you knew the home was beautiful … you never suspected or expected that there would be more than one offer on the place. As Bartholomew came back with the papers and sent you on your way, you determined that you were going to do some digging and find out who this anonymous buyer was.
* * * * *
Fall Festival preparations started with some simple yard work, Jensen discovered when he arrived at Y/N’s house not long after she had wrapped up her school day. The farmhands would take care of the orchard and the pumpkin patch, for the most part, but she informed Jensen that her family had always done up the house and made it suitable for visitors during the four-day festival.
“There’s half-days at the school Thursday and Friday, since so many families pull their kids out in the afternoon anyway,” Y/N explained while they raked leaves in the front yard. “Friday night is a big chili cook-off, Saturday night is the carnival, and everything wraps up by Sunday afternoon.”
He reached for a sturdy trash bag. Y/N held it open while he started loading in the raked leaves. “Sounds like a good weekend. I’m looking forward to being around for it. Do you get to enjoy much of it?”
Y/N shrugged. “For the most part. I’ll help Kitty at The Farmer’s Stand Thursday and Friday, and Saturday morning, but I always go to the chili cook-off Friday evening. Saturday afternoon we get the most visitors here, so I’ll be around for that. Then the carnival Saturday evening, and puttering around here Sunday.”
Jensen smiled as he dumped more leaves into the bag. He wanted to do things the way she did, wanted to learn how things were done so he wasn’t changing anything if he bought the farm. Maybe part of him wanted to be with her as much as possible, too. He wasn’t sure how to ask to join her without essentially inviting himself, so he kept his mouth shut and helped her finish up with the leaves.
“Now, we bake,” she announced when the bags of leaves were all lined up by the barn. “I took care of the flower beds over the weekend, and I’ll mow when I get home tomorrow.”
Jensen followed her into the house, making sure to wipe his boots on the mat on the back patio. He closed the slider behind him and made a mental note to show up sometime in the morning and do the mowing for her.
He waited patiently while Y/N pulled a myriad of baking supplies down from the cupboards. She was going to make some of everything, she informed him, so that Kitty’s shop could be well-stocked for the weekend.
“Before I go, I’ll type up all these recipes, if you want.” Then, she stopped and frowned. “By the way, have you spoken with Bartholomew recently? Like, today?”
Jensen shook his head and leaned forward on the counter. “No, why?”
“He got another offer on the farm. This person is an anonymous buyer, made their offer through the bank. He said it’s fairly competitive with your offer.”
“I’ll call him in the morning. Which offer do you think you’ll take?”
She looked sadly at her desk and the stack of papers in the middle of it. “I honestly haven’t looked at the new offer yet. For lots of reasons.”
He didn’t have to know her well to know that the subject was upsetting her. Instead of discussing the matter further, he nudged her with his elbow.
“So, what do I have to do to get you to start with those cinnamon rolls for our baking tonight?”
The change in subject succeeded in making Y/N laugh. Jensen grinned too, and listened while she told him how to pick the best apples for baking versus the ones that were better for snacking or salads. They peeled and sliced apples together, then worked on doughs for both the cinnamon rolls and a couple of pies.
By the time their baking endeavors were in the oven, they were both starving. Y/N didn’t feel much like cooking, so Jensen offered to go into town and pick up some takeout. He returned not too much later with a large pizza. He set it on the counter, which Y/N had cleaned up while he was gone.
“How much of a slob would you think I am if I just set the open box on the counter and didn’t bother with plates?” Y/N chuckled.
Jensen smirked. “Wouldn’t bother me any.”
“If you’ll grab us some napkins from the table, I’ll get sodas out of the fridge.”
Within minutes, they were sitting on barstools next to each other, chowing down on the warm, cheesy, meaty pizza. Jensen took the opportunity to look around the house; it was so warm and inviting. The autumn decorations weren’t too much, but they were noticeable and tasteful. While he suspected that much of these traditions had been born of the three generations before her, Y/N had done an excellent job of keeping the house a home.
After they cleaned up the pizza mess and pulled the baked goods from the oven, Jensen decided it was time to go back out to the hotel. He didn’t want to overstay his welcome, as much as he was beginning to love being on the farm.
“Thank you for all of your help,” Y/N offered when she walked him to the front porch.
“I don’t know how much I actually helped, but … well, thanks for teaching me some of the ropes. Same time tomorrow?”
Y/N nodded. “You were help, but the company was nice, too. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Jensen lingered for a moment, unsure of what he felt like he was waiting for. Y/N looked at him, waiting for him to say or do something. In the end, he gently squeezed her hand as he placed a kiss on her cheek, then bid her goodnight.
* * * * *
When you recapped the evening for Taylor, her eyes went wide and she looked at you like you were an idiot.
“Y/N! He’s into you!”
You rolled your eyes. “Oh, please. The age difference alone has got to make him out of my league. Not to mention, I’m a schoolteacher from Middle-of-Nowhere, Massachusetts, and he’s an actor.”
“The age difference isn’t really that big, and,” she swallowed the bite of salad that had been stuffed in her cheek, “you are just as eligible as anyone else, Y/N/N. I think you forget that sometimes.”
You pursed your lips. “Maybe with the new offer, he’s trying to sweeten me up so he can buy the place.”
Taylor shook her head, adamant that this newfound epiphany of hers was accurate. “He held your hand in the orchard, he’s hanging out with you all the time, the goodbye last night -- this isn’t about the farm. It’s about you.”
As you took a bite of leftover pizza, you thought over your friend’s theory. You supposed you could see where she would see all of that, but you still weren’t buying it.
“We’ll see, when all is said and done,” Taylor shrugged. She was so confident she was right, but you didn’t even want to hope.
Hell, you didn’t even want to admit that you were into Jensen, too.
* * * * *
Right after school let out and all of the kids had been picked up or sent home on the bus, you drove over to The Farmer’s Stand. A crowd was already starting to gather; you took that as a good sign.
“Where do you want me to start, Ms. Kitty?”
She waved you over to the cash register. “I’d like to get out from behind this counter for a while, if you don’t mind. Mingle with people.”
“No, I don’t mind.”
She gave you a hug before going to walk the floor of the little market. You returned it, then set down on the stool behind the counter, waiting for customers to bring up their goods for purchase. Ms. Kitty had thought ahead and had a price list set out for you; you’d run the register before, so you were pretty set in your job for the afternoon.
Stephen, Ms. Kitty’s son, came in a couple hours after you. He frowned when he saw you sitting behind the counter, but masked the expression quickly.
“I guess I forgot the festival was starting already,” he mumbled.
The man was a few years older than you, but had grown up in town just as you had -- but had still managed to forget the festival? You’d never understand living in a place like this and not taking some pride in the town’s traditions.
“All the way through Sunday,” you commented.
“You going to be here everyday?”
No, your brow knitted into a frown. “Today, tomorrow, and Saturday morning. Just like my family has always done. Is that a problem?”
Before Stephen could reply, someone else spoke up. “I hope it’s not -- and I hope it’s not a problem that I plan to be here with her. Gotta learn somehow.”
Your frown immediately changed to a smile when you saw that Jensen had arrived. He found another stool to set next to you. Stephen disappeared into the back office, not bothering to greet Jensen or converse any further.
“He’s pleasant,” Jensen commented.
“Isn’t he?” you chuckled. “I’ve never understood how a mother like Ms. Kitty could have a son like Stephen. He doesn’t seem to care much about the town at all.”
“Thank goodness for you two women, to balance out people like him then.”
You rewarded his comment with a smile -- one that grew when he smiled back, and the afternoon sun lit up his eyes, making them a brighter shade of green than they already were.
“You okay?”
You hadn’t realized you’d been staring until Jensen waved a hand in front of your face. “Yeah, I’m good. Sorry.”
A customer coming to the counter to make a purchase provided a timely rescue. You showed Jensen the price list and how to work the register while you rang up the young family.
The distraction was brief, however, and as soon as Jensen struck conversation up with you again, your heart was pitter-pattering in your chest. You wanted to blame it on Taylor and the conversation you’d had with her earlier in the day, but you knew that these feelings were all your own.
