“And I heard you humming,” Kitty added from the ladder.
Lizzy smiled even as she feigned a gasp. “She’s right. You were humming. Woodland creatures could join us at any moment. And then—”
“Fine!” Jane dropped the pile of napkins and took a deep breath. “He’s… nice. Okay?”
Lizzy’s smile fell. “Nice?”
“Yes. Nice.”
“That’s it?”
Jane nodded once.
“Nice.” Kitty looked like she was trying very hard to think of something else to say.
“Did you get his number?” Lizzy asked, desperate for at least this crumb. There’s no way she would have left the bar if she hadn’t assumed they would at least exchange contact information.
Jane’s eyes widened. “I’m not going to ask for a guy’s number.”
Lizzy groaned, her head falling forward. Her older sister was hopeless, and she was about to tell her so when Mary appeared in front of their table. Her thin frame was tented in a T-shirt emblazoned with the wordsPlastic Kills, and she had a large piece of canvas folded under her arm. “I need scissors.”
Kitty climbed down from the ladder and handed her the pair she had been using.
“Does Green Justice have a booth today?” Jane asked encouragingly.
“Not exactly,” she answered, pocketing the scissors. Then she started to turn away.
“How about some sustenance on your quest to destroy capitalism?” Lizzy asked, biting back a smile.
Mary considered, then grabbed a zucchini muffin.
By the time the sisters finished setting up, people were already filtering into the lopsided circle of tables and tents that constituted the weekly farmers market. As soon as anyone passed the old paint-peeled Village Hall, they would immediately see the Bennet Bakery stand between Vicki Lyon’s organic soaps and Marv’s homemade pickle cotton candy. They had been in the same spot for the last ten years.
“All right,” Kitty said, clapping her hands together like they were in a boardroom. “The table is all set, so is the register. But I still think Dad needs to talk to Marv about moving us closer to the produce tables. Market research says that over 66 percent of people buy fruit and vegetables from farmers markets, and I think—”
“Pace yourself, Kitkat,” Lizzy said, pullingThe Court of the Serpent Kingfrom her bag and settling in to where the page was dog-eared at chapter 25. Her sister had been making the samepoint ever since she took that Principles of Marketing class last year. “We can’t get too busy; I have a book to finish.”
Kitty rolled her eyes as if Lizzy were joking. “All right, I’m heading home. Call if you two need anything.”
Lizzy didn’t look up as she waved goodbye.
Within an hour, the market was seeing a steady flow of weekenders and locals alike, all meandering around the different tents. Only a few people stopped at the bakery’s table, so Lizzy stayed engrossed in her book while Jane rang up any purchases.
It was only when she got to chapter 28 and Lord Magnus Beaumont had finally thrown his true love Adrianna over his shoulder and stormed up to his bedroom that Lizzy looked up. She always felt a bit self-conscious when she was reading in public and stumbled upon a particularly racy bit of a book. Although, to be fair, she hadn’t particularlystumbled, since she had been waiting precisely 270 pages for this moment. Still, as she looked around the market, she couldn’t shake the feeling that everyone was watching her, that they knew exactly what was about to happen in Lord Magnus’s chambers.
Then her eyes snagged on a man on the other side of the field. His back was to her, so all she could see was his black hair, his broad shoulders. He seemed to be interested in the HamptonFest table, with Hank Donato standing next to him, talking and gesturing around the market. The man seemed to be listening intently, nodding as he slowly turned around.
Ohmygod. It was Lord Magnus.
Okay, not really. But it might as well have been. He had the same dark hair, deep green eyes. And his smile was electric, like it was lit up by some internal force. Then he cocked his head ever so slightly, as if he somehow knew someone was watching him, and turned those green eyes to her.
Oh.Oh. Lizzy was definitely not hallucinating. Not only was he real—he was staring right at her. And she was suddenly aware that her Guns N’ Roses vintageAppetite for DestructionT-shirt had seen better days.
Her brain scrambled, synapses trying desperately to connect, to figure out what to do next, but then her view was gone, blocked by someone stepping into her line of sight. A tall, blond someone who needed a haircut and personality transplant.
Lizzy’s expression fell.
It was Will Darcy.
