“That is not helpful,” I mutter.
It’s also not wrong.
Behind them, Liam is juggling a tray of pastries and a conversation with an elderly couple, smiling kindly while they ask many questions about the difference between scones and biscuits. I watch him for a moment longer than I should, then force myself to keep moving.
I’m halfway to the main tent when a hand touches my arm.
Not a grab, just a brush.
I turn and see Liam standing there, closer than he’s been all day, his fingers slipping away from my skin like he didn’t mean to keep them there.
“You okay?” he asks, and the worry in his voice sends a warm ripple through me.
“I should be,” I say. “It’s a festival, not a hostage situation. But somehow it’s both.”
He gives a small smile, softer than usual. “Need help?”
“With the hostage situation? Absolutely. But it’s fine. Really.”
He studies me like he’s trying to decide whether that’s true. “You sure?”
I nod. “Are you doing okay?”
The smile falters just slightly, the careful pause slipping back in. “Trying to be.”
The words punch deeper than he means them to.
Before I can say anything, a volunteer rushes over shouting about a broken banner, and I have to bolt, but for the rest of the afternoon, that quiet answer echoes in my chest.
Trying to be.
That tells me more about where his head is than anything else he’s said today.
Hours pass. The crowds get thicker and louder. My feet ache, my brain is cotton candy. At one point, someone tries to hand me a ferret and asks if we have a lost-and-found for animals. I redirect that problem to another volunteer because I don’t get paid enough to negotiate with a ferret.
By the time I make my next pass by the bakery booth, the rush is slowing down. People wander off toward the music tent, giving the bakers a few minutes to breathe.
Maisie spots me again and waves her entire arm like she’s summoning a plane.
“Charlotte! Come look!”
I lean over the counter, and she proudly shows me a cupcake with so many sprinkles it looks like someone forgot to stop shaking the bottle.
“This one is for later,” she whispers. “It’s special.”
“Why is it special?”
She leans closer. “Because Daddy said he likes you.”
I feel my eyebrows lift. “He did?”
“Yes,” she says cheerfully. “But he thinks I wasn’t listening.”
I bite the inside of my cheek to keep myself from smiling too hard. “Your secret is safe with me.”
She nods and runs off again, chasing after Chris, who seems mildly concerned about her enthusiasm with the sprinkle jars.
I’m still smiling when I look up and find Liam watching me from behind the counter. His expression is unreadable.. For a second, neither of us looks away. Then someone approaches him for a purchase, and the moment breaks.
