It was the same as with Rosemary. His touch was that of a gentleman. Nothing more.
And if she’d been willing to see it earlier—without the fog of past hurts—she might’ve realized he’d been like this all along. Welcoming. Kind. But careful.
A flutter of uncertainty stirred in her chest.
And then... he looked up.
Caught her watching.
And he didn’t look away.
Daphne’s stomach tensed... and then flipped.
Could he tell? That she was seeing him more clearly now? Did he really want more than friendship with her? Hearts even?
“What are you doing hiding all the way over here in the shadows?” came Lindsay’s voice from behind her.
“What are you doing attending Wisteria’s Harvest Festival when you have a ten-day countdown until your wedding?” Daphne shot back, maybe a little too comfortable with a veritable celebrity.
Lindsay grinned, all glossy hair and relaxed elegance. “I grew up here, remember?” She gestured toward the crowd. “Besides, I needed a little grounding before the glam whirlwind. And these folks are good for that.”
Daphne turned toward her fully, giving her brows a little wiggle. “You mean... like a palate cleanser before the chaos?”
“Nice reference.” Lindsay chuckled and then sighed, her attention drawn back to the dancers. “It’s easy to forget who you are when the world keeps asking you to prove yourself with filters and follower counts. I needed the reminder that I matter because I’mme.Not because of a dress size or trending recipe.”
Daphne nodded, something inside her easing at the truth in those words.
“And Travis?” Daphne asked. “He’s not overwhelmed by the Wisteria way?”
“Oh, he’s head over heels.” Lindsay’s eyes twinkled. “With the townandwith me. And I think maybe I forgot how much this place shaped me. I wanted to get married here for a reason, you know?”
“I get it. Wisteria might be simple,” Daphne said, smiling. “But not less.”
“No ma’am.” Lindsay met her eyes. “Definitely not less.”
The music dipped into a sweet, fiddle-led waltz as children’s laughter echoed across the field and the familiar turn of Finn’s accent blended with the crowd. These people had held her up through grief, celebrated her courage when she took over the bakery, and today? They’d shown up—for her. For Finn. For the whole messy, beautiful journey.
Yes—homesweethome.
Her eyes drifted back to him. Finn. Laughing as Carrie Long spun away and ended the dance. His gaze cut through the crowd like a compass—and landed straight on her again.
The flutter returned, stronger now.
Lindsay’s fingers looped through Daphne’s arm. “Come on. You deserve a little celebration.”
“What are we celebrating?” Daphne asked as Lindsay tugged her forward.
“A day of great food. Good people.” Lindsay marched impressively fast for someone in heels. “And...”
“And?”
“And an excellent pairing.”
“An excellent—”
Before Daphne could finish, Lindsay executed a devious little pivot and spun her directly onto the edge of the dance floor—right into the path of Finn Dashwood.
He blinked at her.
