Rosie gets this look, and immediately my stomach tumbles because I know what’s coming. “Fine. If nothing’s going on, then you have no problem looking me in the eye and cheersing to it.”
I glance at her glass and then down at my own.Am I really willing to risk being cursed with bad sex to keep it a secret that I had deliciously dirty sex with Walker?
Rosie arches a challenging brow, like she can read my mind.
“Fine.”
Rosie beams. “Cheers tonothaving sex with the cowboy.”
I suck in a breath right as Penny mutters “The only thing worse than no sex is bad sex.”
I pull my drink back at her threat and shake my head. “I don’t think that cowboy knows how to have bad sex. Now, I’m going inside to grab more pastries.”
They’re still hooting and hollering as I walk away. My secret is as good as dead. Dammit. I try not to focus on the fact that they know about Walker and instead look around at the festival, making sure everything is running smoothly.
We’ve set up a few tables just outside the fields, mimicking the layout of the farmers market. There are food and drink vendors, live music, and pastries for sale, including raspberry scones, blueberry lemon tarts, and Walker’s favorite honey cupcakes. We’ve also put together dozens of bouquets that customers can grab to go if they’d rather not pick their own flowers.
Before we started hosting weddings, the festival was held in the flower fields, not farther up the drive, but kids would inevitably end up trampling the flowers, and with the limited crop this year—thanks to me—that is not a risk we can take.
My mother is talking to people who have plucked tulips from our pick-and-go field, which bloomed earlier than the rest and would be dying next week, anyway.
These are the things I never considered—the businessside of the farm—and it’s clearly a tremendous amount of work. I have no idea how my father did all this by himself.
At least Penny and I are helping now. I’m ashamed to say I’d missed the last few Daffodil Festivals so I have no idea who supported my mom and dad before.
Guilt and grief war within my chest. I should have been here last year. I had no idea it would be my father’s last, and I’ll never forgive myself for taking so much of this for granted. For taking him for granted.
Right as I’m about to pass Walker, he grabs my hand and tugs. “Tal, I want to introduce you to my friends.”
Despite the sadness in my chest, my eyes light up at Walker’s words and I grin. “Who knew you had friends.”
“Oh, I like her,” the older of the two men says. He’s got dark hair and a face covered in scruff, but his bourbon-colored eyes are warm as a melted caramel cupcake.
The other man, who’s clean-shaven and wearing a backward Boston Rev’s baseball cap, glances down at our hands and I realize they’re still joined. Feeling slightly foolish, I flex my fingers, figuring Walker didn’t mean to hold my hand. I was probably clinging to him because I was having a moment of sadness. But as I pull away, Walker only strengthens his grip and squeezes. With a flash of warmth in his eyes, he smiles down at me. “I like her, too.”
“So you going to tell us her name or—?” Bourbon eyes teases.
“You’re grown men, you can say hello.” Walker gives it right back.
“I’m Tally.” I stick out my hand.
When the older man gives me a firm shake, my other hand falls from Walker’s, so he wraps his arm around my back andI feel his warm palm settle into the back pocket of my jeans. I know both of them tell me their names, but I don’t hear a word. I’m too stuck on the way Walker’s hand fits in mine. How he so easily claimed me in front of his friends. My stomach does that swooping thing, and when I notice all three of them have gone silent, I realize I must have missed a question.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t get much sleep last night. Can you say that again?”
The younger one’s eyes trail over to Walker, and I know that if I look at him I’ll turn as red as a rose because yeah, he was with me,not sleeping.
“Jackson asked what you do,” Walker mumbles low against my ear. If I turned right now, our lips would touch. My body heats, and one quick look around makes it evident I’m not the only person realizing how close we are. His friends watch us, and when I spot my sister and Rosie standing just ten feet away, I realize they aren’t attending to the customers in line waiting for pastries. Instead, they’re staring straight at me. Gawking, really. Penny’s mouth is popped so wide flies will probably take up residence. Rosie, of course, is wearing a smirk.
And then there’s my mother. A daffodil in hand, a secret smile on her face. Shit. She’s happy about this. As if there really is athisto be happy about.
I stumble back a little, getting some breathing room, because we can’t do this. Even if I was sticking around past spring—which I’m not—it was just sex. I can’t have my mother believing it’s anything more. Can’t get her hopes up.Can’t get my hopes up, my sneaky mind reminds me, because I’m leaving. I need to get out of here. But I also need to answer this question.
“I’m a seasonal worker,” I say, letting out a long breath.
“She’s a baker,” Walker says with pride in his tone.
I shake my head, embarrassed. “Not professionally.”
