He looked away first, back at Tucker. But the tips of his ears were pink again.
We straightened up at the same time and nearly collided. Cal caught my elbow, a quick steadying grip. His thumb rested against the inside of my arm, warm and unsettling.
When his hand dropped, it left a hollow little ache where his fingers had been.
“Sorry.” His voice came out low.
“My fault.” Mine came out too bright.
Tucker looked between us, utterly unbothered, and sat down by Cal's feet.
“So.” Cal glanced toward my booth where a small cluster of customers was browsing. “How's it going today?”
“Better than last week.” I fell into step beside him as we drifted back. “The lotion testers are flying. I've already had three pre-orders for the soap.”
Cal's mouth curved into something close to a smile. “Your business plan is working.”
“Don't sound so surprised.”
“I'm not surprised.” He said it simply, like he'd never doubted it for a second.
Cal settled Tucker beside the booth, and I let myself steal one last glance at him before turning to my customers. He'd already crouched down to let a small boy pet Tucker, one hand braced on his knee, saying something that made the boy giggle.
I snapped back to the booth with a smile I didn't have to fake.
“Hi! Can I help you find something?” A woman in a wide-brimmed straw hat was lifting one of my lotion testers, turning it over in her hands. “That one's lavender and goat milk. Made right on the farm.”
She unscrewed the lid and held it to her nose. Her eyebrows lifted. “Oh, that's lovely.”
“I have a pre-order sheet for the soap if you're interested. First batch ships in four weeks.”
She signed before I'd even finished the sentence.
The next hour blurred into the best kind of chaos. A retired couple bought two flower bouquets and asked about free-range eggs. Three teachers from the elementary school placed a group soap order and took every last lotion tester. A woman tasted a sample of my sugar snap peas, declared them life-changing, and came back twenty minutes later with her sister.
I wrapped bundles, scribbled names onto the pre-order list, and barely kept up. The booth hummed with energy, and I felt it move through me like a current, warm and electric and familiar.This.This was what I'd been chasing since I handed in my resignation letter. Not the farm specifically, not even the market. This feeling of making something real and watching people love it.
I caught myself grinning at nobody in particular.
Turning back to my booth, my eyes drifted to where Cal stood, Tucker's leash in hand while two women crouched in front of the dog. Friends, maybe early thirties, both laughing as Tucker worked his way between them. The one checked her phone and touched the other woman's arm before slipping away.
The other stayed.
She straightened up, tucking her hair behind her ear, and turned the full wattage of her smile on Cal.
She was pretty in an effortless way. Blonde, athletic build, the kind of easy confidence that came from knowing exactly what you looked like. She said something, and Cal responded. She laughed. Not a polite laugh either. Afulllaugh, hand landing briefly on his forearm, like he'd said the most charming thing she'd ever heard in her life.
Cal had said maybe twelve funny things total since I'd met him.
“Your change.” I handed the customer two dollars and fifty cents without looking at him.
The woman leaned in slightly to look at Tucker. Which meant leaning slightly toward Cal. Her shoulder practically grazed his arm.
Cal didn't step back.
He didn't step back.
“Miss?” My customer waved the money at me. “This is too much.”
