The room feels smaller.Hotter.
I swallow. “Right.”
Pete studies my face then softens. “I just wanted you to hear it from me, not through village gossip.”
“Thank you,” I manage.
He winces before adding, “But now he’s clearly sticking around, is it a good time to have our breakup?”
I give a slight nod. “I’ll sort it.”
“I’ll let you finish your dinner. Call me if you need anything.”
When the door closes behind him, the silence roars.
Martha speaks first. “Still think that Zoom call is nothing?”
I stare down at my plate, appetite completely gone.
“I don’t know what to think,” I admit. “He’s a biker, not a farmer. What’s he playing at?”
The following day, the town green has been transformed.
Bunting flaps lazily in the breeze, food stalls line the edges, and the air smells like cut grass, frying onions, and sugar. Kids run wild with painted faces, dogs strain on leads, and someone’s set up a makeshift stage where a local band is already tuning up.
It feels . . . alive.
I’m manning the drinks stand with two other women, pouring lemonades and teas while trying not to spill anything down my front.
“Sparkling or still?” I ask the elderly woman in front of me, reaching for another bottle.
Laughter cuts through the noise. It’s a real, deep bellied laughter that automatically brings a smile to my face. I glance up and spot him.
Kade.
He’s halfway across the green, sleeves rolled up, kutte discarded somewhere I can’t see, boots sinking slightly into the grass as he runs—actually runs—after a sheep that’s clearly decided it’s had enough of the pen.
Pete’s with him, red-faced and wheezing, both of them shouting useless encouragement at the animal while it darts just out of reach.
“Oi! You little bas—” Kade laughs, skidding slightly as the sheep changes direction. Pete lunges and misses.
I snort before I can stop myself.
They finally manage to corner it, Pete grabbing the gate while Kade scoops the sheep up with surprising ease, his muscles flexing as he lifts it and deposits it back into the pen. The crowd around them claps and cheers.
Kade throws his head back and laughs again.
And it hits me like a punch to the chest.
He looks . . .free.
Relaxed in a way I don’t think I’ve ever seen him. No tension in his shoulders. No guarded expression. Just a man in the middle of a sunny afternoon, laughing like he belongs here.
Like he fits.
“Bloody hell,” one of the women beside me murmurs.
I drag my eyes away just in time to see the two women at the end of the stand leaning closer together, whispering furiously while very obviously not being subtle.
