‘Looks like you’re up,’ Jack said. ‘Catch up later?’
I smiled. ‘If you’re lucky.’
He checked to see if anyone was within earshot, then leaned forward until his lips were next to my ear. ‘I want to kiss you so much right now.’
Heat flooded my insides. ‘Not here.’
It wasn’t until he turned around and grinned at me that I realized I was still standing there, watching him walk away.
34
JACK
I completely underestimated just how busy and popular the small-town festival would be. By lunchtime, I’d already had to call in Toby, our second chef, from his day off to fire up the stoves in the kitchen and prepare more food.
‘I thought you said we’d have enough,’ I reminded Kevin during a brief lull.
‘We should have had,’ he replied, wiping his forehead with the crook of his arm, looking as hot and bothered as I felt. Hot pans sizzled, adding to the heat. ‘I was going off the numbers we did last year. This year is already so much busier. I’ve never seen this many people in town at one time before.’
‘It’s great,’ Hannah said, pausing from buttering the rolls. ‘If every day was as busy as this, I’d almost be tempted to stay.’
Fiona looked up at me from where she was demonstrating how to shuck oysters to a small crowd. Her brow was furrowed questioningly.
‘I’ll tell you later,’ I said.
‘Just please tell me that I’m not going to be out of a job,’ she asked quietly. ‘There’s not a lot of options in this town for a single mom, especially ones that will let me bring my son to work when I have to, like you do.’
‘It’s going to be fine,’ I reassured her. ‘Your job is safe.’
She smiled gratefully, her relief written all over her face, and I told myself I’d do whatever I had to do to keep that promise.
‘Would you guys mind holding down the fort for a little while?’ I asked, untying my apron and lifting it off over my head. ‘I just need to check in on someone.’
‘I think we can cope,’ Fiona replied.
I fixed a couple of lobster rolls into paper boats and stepped out from the stall, wandering slowly down the street, past an art stall where a bunch of kids were painting old buoys, an impromptu driftwood sculpture garden. A man was drawing live caricature sketches, and I stopped to watch him for a moment. Kids nearby were drawing chalk art on the pavement. Down at the jetty near the wharf they were holding paper boat races. On the other side of the village green I could see a painting class taking place, easels set up to face the lighthouse at the tip of the bay. The atmosphere was joyous and buzzing, and I felt a sense of belonging.
Taylor was just finishing up a tattoo when I got to her stall.
‘There you go, Dawn,’ she said, straightening up and snapping off her gloves. ‘All done.’
The woman, Dawn, sat up and twisted sideways so she could see her shoulder in the long mirror beside the tattoo table. Freshly inked on her skin was a tiny beach scene. A campervan, campfire, some ocean waves, and a couple of surfboards.
‘I love it,’ she squealed. ‘You’re so talented, Taylor.’
Taylor smiled modestly. ‘Thanks.’
‘My first tattoo,’ Dawn said. ‘And it’s even more special because it was done by you. I’m so glad you’re back.’
‘Temporarily,’ Taylor reminded her, and my good mood evaporated.
‘Yeah, well, temporary or not, it’s just nice to have you back, for however long it’s for. Let’s have dinner one night before you go.’
‘Sounds good.’ She looked up and saw me. I quickly pasted on a smile again.
‘Hey you,’ she said. ‘How’s the food stall going?’
‘Busy,’ I told her. ‘Insanely so. How’s the tattoo business?’
