“It’s very cute that you have a maple syrup festival,” she said as they waited in line for a sample.
“You came at the right time. Next week is the start of an asparagus festival, I’m pretty sure,” he said. “Brought to you by Big Asparagus.”
She laughed. “I like asparagus.”
“Me, too. I just don’t think we need to pretend it’s festival worthy.”
“What’s after asparagus?”
“Apples? No, that’s in the fall.” He shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“What’s your favourite season up here?” It felt like a leading question. As in, when should she come back?
“There’s something to like about all of them. Even winter. It’s brutal in the depths of it, but it’s quiet. No tourists. Gets dark real early, which is surprisingly nice.” He tugged her close and brushed his lips against her temple. “Long nights at home, all cozy together, could be fun.”
She smiled up at him. “Like yesterday kind of fun?”
“Fuck yeah.” And now he was at risk of getting a hard-on at the farmer’s market. He cleared his throat and glanced down the aisle. “What else do you want to get? Cheese?”
“Cheese is always good,” she said, her voice ringing with laughter.
They strolled around the entire market, tasting samples and buying food that Josh would eat on his own. And they didn’t talk about what was going to happen next.
When he had a full hand of shopping bags—the hand that wasn’t holding hers—they headed back to his truck.
“This was good.”
“It was…” Great. It had been amazing. And it had been nothing. A walk in the sunshine with his wife. A few samples. But he’d got to loop his fingers through hers, light and easy, and that was something he never thought he’d ever have again.
He stowed the bags behind her seat, then closed the gap between them, curving over her in the relative privacy of the open door. “You sure you can’t stay longer?”
* * *
Monica wasn’tsure about anything.
Josh exhaled. “Don’t answer that. I know you can’t.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Come on, let’s get you back.”
“Wait.” She set her hand on his chest.
Last night, she’d told her mother about the private investigator. Bianca had rolled her eyes and promised Michael couldn’t do anything with the information that Monica was being civil with her husband. It was a free country, her mother insisted. And then she’d said,“You’re allowed to be more than civil, you know. If you still love him…”
And Monica had burst into tears.
She didn’t want to cry over Josh.
She just wanted…
Deep down, she knew she wanted him to love her. It wasn’t enough that she loved him. She wanted to be loved, and that would take time.
I don’t want to love you.
They’d come so far from that angry outburst, but she couldn’t forget how hurt he was.
Yesterday, she’d been so focused on not hurting him any more that she had drawn a hard line in the sand. She had to go, and not play with his feelings.
But her dreams last night were all soft, and full of Josh, and she woke up full of hope.
Now she was seriously considering every possibility.
