My heart skips a beat at the sight of him, my stomach filling with butterflies.
He’s in jeans and a dusky pink Henley (this shade much more his color…and telling of the fact that it’s not just Chloe who likes pink), aviators perched on his nose and he’s so damned beautiful, it’s like a piece of art is casually walking toward my stall.
I shove that away, focus on Chloe in her bright pink hoodie and leggings, her eyes wide (and her smile wider) as she takes in everything around her.
Beautiful too—albeit in a completely different way.
I exhale…trying to understand why he’s here, why they both are.
And why it feels as though my heart is going to pound its way out of my chest at the sight of them.
Chloe spots me first. “Finn!” She tugs her hand free and runs toward me.
I crouch just in time to catch her in a hug. “Ms. Chloe!”
“Daddy brought me so I could see your work.”
“I can see that,” I murmur as I look up.
And there my heart goes again when I see Rhodes standing just inside my booth, one hand shoved in his pocket, the other holding a coffee cup as he surveys the space.
I exhale nervously, feeling suddenly vulnerable.
Then he turns and smiles at me, his words nothing but genuine. “This is amazing, Finn.”
And maybe it shouldn’t matter.
Maybe I shouldn’t care that he thinks it’s amazing.
But pride blooms inside me all the same. “Thanks,” I murmur.
I hear rustling and focus, realize that Chloe’s already touching everything in sight.
“What’s this?” she asks.
“A potholder.”
“What’sthis?”
I chuckle. “A table runner.”
“And what’s this?” she asks, reaching for the rope that’s strung across the top of my tent, keeping my quilts aloft.
“A thing you arenotallowed to pull on.”
She giggles and drops her arm then runs over to a stack of kitchen towels, examining each with careful precision.
Rhodes steps farther in. “We won’t stay and bother you. We just happened to be in the neighborhood and wanted to say hi. And I”—he winks at me, sending my pulse fluttering—“wanted to see what kind of magic you were pulling off in your spare time.” A big shoulder lifts and drops in a shrug. “Besides tackling my Laundry Hell and wrangling Demon Kittens.”
“She can stay if she wants to,” I say quickly.Tooquickly. Because he’s been in my booth for all of thirty seconds…and I don’t want him to leave. Not just yet. Then, because his eyebrows lift slightly in surprise, I add, “If you want her too, that is.”
“Are you sure? It’s your day off.”
I shrug, affect casual. “I kind of like the kid.”
And you.
But thankfully I don’t say the quiet part out loud.
