“Oh, joy.”
Leandra smiled. “Anyway, back to my low-key investigation. Your boy lost his dad, like, ten or eleven years ago.”
“Not my boy,” I replied instinctively. “And everyone knows his dad passed away. Your investigative skills aren’t impressing me.”
Leandra ignored me. “Constantine had to be, what? Thirteen? Fourteen? Tough age, Micah. He got into trouble a good bit. Lots of mentions of him in the police blotter. Reminded me of Mason, back in the day. You remember how he—”
“No onewas as bad as Mason back in the day,” I interrupted, losing all patience with this conversation. I pointed an accusing finger at her. “And let me remind you, Mase changed himself aroundcompletely,way before he was twenty. I get that Constantine’s had his share of troubles. But haven’t we all? Remember when MoonFlower spent all the grocery money mom sent home to buy—”
“Composting worms,” we finished together.
“Or the time when you were eight and MoonFlower hid her dime bag in your doll’s diaper?”
“Seven.” She sighed. “I remember it was Tabitha Marie’s first foray into a life of crime.”
“Uh huh. My point is, a hard childhood’s not an excuse for failing to take life seriously.”
“I know, Micah. But maybe—” She hesitated. “Maybe sometimes you take lifetooseriously, you know?”
“What?” The comment stung, maybe more than it should have.
“Not a criticism, just an observation.” She grabbed my hand and smiled. “The kid seemsnice.He’s kind to children. He teases without being cruel. And I have trouble believing that anyone that nice can be the total—”
“Constantine. Luciano. Ross!”
Leandra and I exchanged a look and turned as a unit to watch Angela Ross stride up the aisle toward the Ross Landscaping booth.
“What is this I hear, about you being over anhour late?”
Con, who had been smiling and chatting with Henry Lattimer, stood up straighter as she approached, and Henry walked quickly away. “Mama,” he said, palms out, “I can explain.”
“Sure you can.” She flipped her long, dark braid over her shoulder, noticed the variety of onlookers, and dropped her voice to a furious whisper… which was, nevertheless, still audible if you were standing stock-still, trying to read her lips, which Leandra and I may or may not have been doing.
“And is there a reason why you were making a spectacle of yourself in front of the entire market?” she hissed. “Caroline O’Brien told me you were ahoot, and Poppy tells me you’ve been mocking thatsweet, adorableMicah Bloom!”
She made air quotes around the adjectives, but I made a mental note to find Poppy and send her some flowers.
Con looked outraged. “I wasn’tmockinghim. I was only teasing, and…” He lifted his gaze to mine before he looked away.
“Mmhmm.” Angela nodded. She sighed so forcefully, it was a wonder the tent didn’t cave in around them. “I’m going to get the rest of the baskets from my truck and check in on Pete.”
“I can get—”
“No, Constantine. You stay here. I’ll be back in half an hour.”
She might as well have saidthink about your sins.
Con stood to one side of the tent, seething and trying to hide it. I should have looked away, but I couldn’t. I felt like I was waiting for something, though I wasn’t sure what… until Constantine’s stormy eyes came to mine. He set his jaw and raised his chin in challenge which, okay, actually did raise him a degree in my estimation.
Maybehalfa degree.
“And men will curse their terrible misfortune,” I mused, quoting the end of his stupidprophecyfrom earlier. “Maybe youarepsychic, Ross.”
I’d like to say I didn’t notice the way his eyes flashed hot at that, but I did, and I felt an answering tug in my gut, too, before I reminded myself who he was, and whoIwas, and all the reasons why I disliked him.
It was mostly the joy of seeing him taken down a peg that made me excited.Obviously.
Except Constantine didn’t look cowed. Not in the slightest. In fact, his lips tipped up into a smile that widened to a grin, like the sunrise breaking over the horizon.
