I pull out my phone and shoot Melanie a quick message about her attendance, then tuck it back in my pocket. “I’ll take it. If she doesn’t show up today, I can hunt her down.”
I hold out my hand, fingers curling.
She hesitates. Just a flicker, there and gone, but I catch it. Her eyes drop to my palm, and something shifts in her expression. Could it be distrust, or something else?
“My sister likes to do whatever she pleases,” I add, softer now. “It’s hard to keep up with her in the moment.”
Daliah sucks in a quick breath at my words. A tiny sound, barely audible, but I feel it in my chest like a punch to my own lungs. A small smile plays on her lips in return, one that makes me want to howl.
“Your sister?” The words are barely a murmur, almost wondering. Then she loosens her grip on the jar and carefully sets it against my palm. “I see. I thought she may have been something else.”
Our fingers brush, and it’s like a tingle shoots up my arm, lightning trapped under my skin. Her touch is soft, warm, but far too brief. Her smile nearly makes my knees give out right there on the spot.
“Something else?” As the words catch in the back of my throat, I realize the misunderstanding. What I don’t understand is how this beauty came to think of it in the first place. She must not pay enough attention to notice just how deeply aware I am of her existence.
I shouldn’t fan the flames, especially when a man my age should know better. Yet, I can’t help myself.
“Not my girlfriend or wife, no. Just an annoying sibling.” The words come out thick enough to choke on. “Don’t have one of those to begin with. It’s just me.”
Giving her information I know she’s not asking for, I don’t miss the way her eyes flick up to meet mine or how quickly a flush forms on her cheeks. That small smile of hers stretches into a bigger one.
It’s a miracle I don’t drop her offering of appreciation.
Instead of putting me out of my misery by telling me if she’s taken or not, her shoes scrape the asphalt beneath us as she takes a step back. The increase of distance doesn’t help like it normally does.
“Thank you, River. I appreciate it. I should get back to my table.”
Fuck. So that’s what it sounds like?
“Well, good luck with the market.” She continues on like she didn’t just kick my feet out from beneath me. She spins on her heel, that blue dress swishing, and looks toward her station. Before she drifts away, she pauses. Glancing back at me over her shoulder, those steel-gray eyes catch mine for a heartbeat. “If you were to want some honey, let me know. I’m willing to trade. I’ve been dying to try that jam of yours.”
A swift nod is all I can give her, thanks to my sudden inability to speak, before she’s gone, gliding back to her side of the market, that dress licking at the backs of her knees with every step.
Thirty feet suddenly feels like thirty miles. Like a chasm I can’t cross, the distance becomes unbearable.
I clutch her honey. When I finally tear my eyes away from her, I’m left staring at the silly cartoon bee wrapped around the label—round eyes, striped body, a tiny smile. I scoff softly, a breath of disbelief at the exchange that just took place.
My phone buzzes. I pluck it out on autopilot, still half-lost. Melanie’s on her way, and her usual demand to save her a table follows right after. I consider telling her about the honey now. Consider handing it over as I should.
Instead, I tuck my phone back in.
Then—because I’m weak, because I’m starving, because I’m a fool—I bring the jar up to my nose and breathe in.
The honey is warm and sweet, but underneath it, something else—something that smells like sunshine on skin. It’s the closest thing I can get to Daliah.
A part of me doesn’t want to hand this offering over to Melanie, even though I should. Even though it’s not mine to keep. Debating whether to give in and accept Daliah’s offer to trade, I use this jar to hold me over. To keep a piece of her close.
Because once it’s taken from me, there’s no telling what I’ll do to get another reason to be near her again.
3
Daliah
Another Saturday, another farmers’ market. Yet, today doesn’t feel the same as it normally does. All because River is missing. Even worse, the booth across from me is taken by a woman with freshly baked bread. At her side, Melanie is with her crocheted animals.
Something must be wrong. To suddenly break a habit out of nowhere, for a man who seems as stern as he is, there’s only one reason behind his tardiness. Something bad must’ve happened.
Already drifting toward Melanie’s table, I prep up my words with each step. Knowing it might be a little strange to randomly ask about her brother, a concept that I’m still wrapping my mind around, my worries about him are what it takes to push forward.
