I’d thought about inviting her to dinner. Or lunch. Or to sit across from her and hear her talk. But the way Doyle had looked at us that night—the way his jaw tightened when he saw her laughing with us—and what Jordan had asked of me, made me think twice.
But standing here now, watching her move through the space like she finally belonged, the grip in my chest eased. Then tightened.
She lifted her camera and snapped it in Sutton’s direction, catching her mid-bite with a cube of cheese halfway to her mouth. My own lips pulled into a half smile at the way her eyes lit up as she lowered the lens, tucking it against her chest.
“I don’t like that look on your face,” Lee said, appearing at my side.
“I don’t have a look.”
“You absolutely have a look. It’s the same one you had when Magnolia brought Pickle home as a kitten and you claimed she hated you, then let her sleep on your pillow for three weeks straight.”
“She bit me,” I muttered. “And Pickle still hates me.”
“Exactly,” he said, sipping his drink. “You’re doomed.”
We reached the booth, and I stepped up beside Sutton, nudging her shoulder with mine to let her know we’d caught up. Tally hadn’t noticed us yet. She was busy snapping photos and handing out samples, wrapping up little gift boxes, laughing softly as she chatted with strangers like she did this every day.
“This is life-changing,” Sutton whispered, reaching for another toothpick.
Tally looked up then, her laugh still caught in her throat. Her smile faltered when she saw me, but she straightened her shoulders and gave a polite nod.
“Evening, gentlemen,” she said, voice bright and composed. “Here to sample the seasonal Gouda or just babysitting our friend before she ends up going viral on Instagram?”
Sutton waved a toothpick in the air like it was a victory flag. “I’m supporting local business.”
“You’re eating all the samples,” I said, folding my arms.
“I’m eating with purpose,” Sutton replied, entirely unbothered. “And sopping up all the festive booze.”
Lee leaned against the counter, relaxed and grinning as he flashed Tally one of his signature smiles. “This setup looks amazing.”
“Thanks,” she said, her eyes dipping for a second like the compliment had snuck in and caught her off guard. “Jordan asked if I wanted to help and snap some photos for social media. I’ve still been trying to earn my keep.”
Her voice carried a brightness that didn’t quite hold, a thin crack running through the middle of it that stopped me cold. Ithought back to the conversation we’d had a little over a month ago in the darkened shop, where she told me that she wasn’t someone who needed to be fixed. I knew she wasn’t, and it almost looked like she was on the road to believing it now, but something was still standing in her way.
Sutton popped another cheese cube into her mouth and stage-whispered, “So glowy,” like Tally wasn’t standing directly in front of her.
Tally laughed, an unfiltered, head-tipped-back kind of laugh. And for some reason, that sound got to me more than anything else she’d done since showing up in Savannah.
“You good?” Lee asked quietly, angling toward me without drawing attention.
I nodded but didn’t say a word.
Tally glanced up from behind the booth, eyes narrowing slightly when they landed on me. “Well, if it isn’t Savannah’s most reluctant customer,” she said, her tone light but edged with a thread of ice.
Sutton snorted into her cider. Lee suddenly found the string lights very interesting.
“I’m here for the cheese,” I said, more rigid than necessary for a Christmas market.
Tally tilted her head, appraising me like I was part of the inventory. “We’ve got cranberry cheddar, honey goat, and a limited supply of men who don’t ghost after a good time.”
That earned me an elbow from Sutton and a snort from Lee.
She didn’t smile when she said it. But I did.
And of course, she noticed.
“I didn’t ghost you,” I said, voice quieter than I meant. “I was giving you space.”
