Rowan laughed and shook his head.
Rowan’s laugh followed Marcus through the entrance and back onto the beach, low and unexpected and warm enough to settle somewhere beneath Marcus’s ribs.
For one wild second, Marcus wanted to take his hand again immediately. He wanted to walk into the middle of thecompetition with Rowan beside him and Atlas between them, and let the whole of Seagull Bay think whatever it liked.
But Rowan was right.
This was Marcus’s choice too.
Not something to stumble into because his heart had sprinted ahead of his sense. Not something forced by gossip, or Mrs Calloway’s sharp eyes, or Christine’s knowing smile.
When he was ready, he would choose it properly.
And perhaps that was what made it matter.
The competition was still in full swing when they returned. Veronica stood in the main ring, one arm raised dramatically as she announced the winner of Best Smile, while a Pomeranian with a permanently disgruntled expression accepted the rosette on behalf of all dogs who believed joy was overrated.
Children laughed. Owners clapped. Tammy’s refreshment stall had a queue six people deep, and Reverend Townsend was blessing a boxer wearing what appeared to be a knitted waistcoat.
Nothing had collapsed without him.
The realisation struck Marcus with almost comical force.
For days, he had believed every thread of the event had been tied around his own fingers. If he loosened his grip, everything would unravel.
But it had not.
The competition had carried on.
Seagull Bay had carried it.
Christine spotted him first from beside the main marquee. Her gaze travelled from Marcus to Rowan, then down to the small space between their hands. She said nothing, but her expression softened in a way that made Marcus’s throat tighten.
He lifted one eyebrow at her.
She lifted both hands, as if to say she had not said a word.
Of course, her face had said several.
Mrs Calloway appeared next, Beau tucked securely in her arms, his blue bow tie slightly crooked and his dignity apparently restored. Her eyes were still pink around the edges, but she smiled when she saw them.
‘There you are,’ she said, her voice quieter than usual. ‘I wanted to thank you both properly before the next category. I don’t know what I would have done if...’ She looked down at Beau and pressed her lips together.
Marcus touched her arm gently. ‘You don’t need to think about that now. He’s safe.’
Mrs Calloway nodded, then looked at Rowan. ‘And Atlas?’
Rowan glanced down at the German Shepherd. Atlas had paused beside him, calm but alert, his ears moving with the sounds of the crowd.
‘He’s had a big day,’ Rowan said.
Mrs Calloway swallowed. ‘A brave one.’
For a moment, Marcus thought Rowan might close down again.
Instead, Rowan looked at Atlas, then back at Mrs Calloway. ‘Yes,’ he said quietly. ‘He has.’
The simple acceptance made Marcus’s chest ache.
