I move to straighten the crate again, trying not to focus on how close he is. He smells like clean soap and cedar and the last bit of night air before the sun comes up. It fills my lungs, mixing with the buttery sweetness of the pastries, making my brain go a little hazy.
My eyes linger on the curve of his mouth, the way the tendons in his forearms flex as he steadies the napkin beneath the stack. He’s…impossibly handsome. I just pray he doesn’t notice the heat creeping up my neck every time I look in his direction.
“Where’s Isla today?” I ask, hoping my voice sounds steadier than it feels.
“With my mum just down the street,” he replies, standing up with some rescued pastries. “I saw you battling your table.”
I nod. “It’s just…one of those days.” I gesture toward the desserts on the table still teetering dangerously close to disaster.
He follows my gaze, and then without asking, starts helping me arrange everything.
“I owe you one,” I say, my hands still moving in a little flurry of action. “Really didn’t expect to end up alone with this, but…” I shrug. “I’ll survive.”
Aidan places the last tray of scones at the front of the display. The festival crowd streams past us, but somehow, it feels like we’re in our own little bubble.
“I’ve got time,” he says simply, his gray eyes meeting mine. “Isla’s busy making flower crowns with my mum. She’ll be busy for the next hour, at the minimum.”
“Well, in that case, would you mind helping me get this banner back up? It seems determined to fly away today.”
He nods, reaching for the sign I’d rescued from halfway down the street. Our fingers brush as he takes itfrom me, and that same spark I felt in the grocery store jolts through me again. I quickly turn away, searching for tape in my apron pocket.
“Here,” I say, pulling out a roll. “If we can secure it better this time, maybe it’ll stay put.”
Aidan takes the tape without a word, making quick work of securing the banner to the front of the table. He’s methodical, making sure each corner is reinforced against the persistent breeze.
“Thanks,” I say, mesmerized by the efficiency of his movements, the concentration in his expression. “You’re good at this.”
He glances up briefly. “I’m used to it. Everything needs to be secure when you’re out at sea.”
I nod, trying to imagine what that life must be like. Weeks away from home, surrounded by nothing but water and steel. It explains the weathered look about him, that slight hardness around his eyes.
“Must be tough,” I venture, arranging the last of the cookies on their tray. “Being away from Isla for so long.”
His hands pause for just a moment, and I worry I’ve overstepped. Then he continues, his voice a little rougher than before.
“It is. But it’s provided well for us. And she’s got my mum.” He secures the last corner of the banner. “It’s just how it is.”
There’s a finality to his words that makes my heart ache. I busy myself with the display, not wanting him to see the emotion I’m sure is written all over my face.
After a beat, Aidan steps back, his eyes scanning the table. “Looks good.”
“It would have been a disaster without your help.”
A comfortable silence settles between us as we stand back to admire our handiwork. The wind has calmed a bit, and thepastries now sit safely displayed, the banner secure against any future gusts.
“So…which is your favorite?” I ask. “I’m setting one aside as payment for your heroic rescue.”
His gaze flicks up from the pastries to me, eyes crinkling slightly at the corners. Not a full smile—it seems he never gives those out freely—but close enough to make my heart skip. “Don’t need payment for lending a hand.”
“Well, I insist,” I say, sweeping my hand toward the slightly pathetic, but now stable, array of scones and cookies. “Baker’s honor.”
He glances at the display, and for a second, I think he might deflect again. He surprises me by pointing to a lemon scone. “If there’s any of those left at the end of the day, I’ll take one.”
I grin. “Excellent choice. My secret recipe.”
“Secret, huh? What makes it special?”
“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a secret anymore,” I tease. The corner of his mouth twitches up again, just a fraction.
