“Oh, did she hire a cowboy to bring attention to her table?” I glance at my sister. “That’s a pretty good idea, Pen.”
Rosie’s head falls back as she lets out a loud laugh. “That’s not a cowboy! That’s Walker.”
My body heats as I realize I was just checking out the bane of my existence. Dammit, why does the man have to be everywhere? And why does he have such a nice ass?
“Okay. I’m going to need one of those mimosas now,” I grumble, looking away from the display for our farm. Rosie wasn’t wrong; ours is the best table. It’s covered in magenta and baby blue peonies, my favorite dahlias that dazzle anyone who sees them because of the pink and peach hues that sprout from one petal to the next, and of course a few bundles of freshly cut daffodils. The stunning array of flowers brightens up the entire market and attracts a large crowd.
“I got you covered,” Rosie says with a wink before disappearing inside.
I turn back to the stand, and my gaze is immediately drawn to the man I’m trying to ignore.
“Are we going to talk about it?” Penny eyes me over her cup.
“Oh, you mean the great deflowering?” I say with a roll of my eyes.
Penny snorts. Okay, maybe I need to come up with a better name than that for the untarping of the tulips. But I haven’t had any caffeine yet, and I feel like complete shit.
“It was so bad,” I mutter as I watch my mother and Walker. They are both smiling, though I’m sure it’s all a ruse. There’s no way they aren’t still pissed off at me and stressed about what is going to happen next. “I’m going to go to the grocery store later so I can load up on every ingredient I can find to make an apology cupcake or fifty for Walker. And I’m going to bake Mom her favorite cake, too.”
Basically, my goal in life is to sweet-talk my way out of trouble.
“Oh, can you bring some by the bookstore after? I miss your cupcakes.”
“You don’t deserve them. You made me do bad things yesterday.”
Penny’s jaw drops open and her mouth flaps like a dead fish. “At no time did I tell you to uncover the damn tulips. You were supposed to talk to Rosie! Did she tell you to uncover the tulips?”
No. In fact, she pretty much told me it was a bad idea from the start. But I’m not letting Penny off the hook so easily. “You should have seen Mom’s face, Pen. This is so, so bad.”
Penny sighs. “She should have been honest with us. What was she thinking?”
I roll my teeth over my bottom lip. I have no idea why my mother is being so secretive, but I wish she’d stop. I wish she’d let Penny and me help. “What are we going to do?”
Penny shakes her head. “I’ll do some research on other ways to attract brides. And we’ll bring back the pumpkin patch and the maze this fall. Maybe talk to Walker about stuff for Christmas?”
All things I didn’t plan on being here for. Shit. I can’t leave now, knowing how much trouble our farm is in. But how the hell do I stay? What would I even do? I’ve been nothing but a nuisance since I arrived. I’m sure the last thing Walker wants me to do is stay.
I stare at the man in question for a beat longer, attempting to ignore the pull I feel whenever he’s in my immediate vicinity.
“So what’s with the hat?” I ask Penny.
“Cowboys are all the rage nowadays on BookTok,” she says, like I have a clue what she’s talking about. My face must say exactly that because she sighs. “Well, and aliens. Women find the cowboy hat hot.”
“But we don’t have animals on the farm.” Even as I say it, I can’t help but smile. The grumpy asshole who hates being called a cowboy is wearing a cowboy hat.
My smile gets bigger when Rosie returns with a matching pastel purple mug withTHIS IS DEFINITELY COFFEEscrawled across it. Before I can take a sip, she tips her mug in my direction. “Admit that you find the cowboy hot, or suffer bad sex for ten years.”
I clink my glass against hers. “The cowboyhatis hot.”
Rosie’s loud laugh rings out across the market, and Walker’s head snaps in our direction.
The second our eyes meet, I’m reminded of the way he looked at me last night. Of how my body vibrated with want as he pulled me against his chest. How those eyes of his warmed as he stared at my mouth. How the wordsFuck itwere on the tip of my tongue right before a car door slammed and he jolted like he’d been shot.
I’ve got a lot of things to fix, but the way Walker is staring at me isn’t one of them.
I wiggle my fingers in greeting, and as I take my first sip of what is definitely not coffee, my mood, for the first time since I arrived in Hope Harbor, is positively giddy.
CHAPTER 16
