She pointed at me. The look saiddon't you dare.
“I appreciate your enthusiasm, but—” Rosie turned to face the window again. “Walt, can you please tell Barbara that—what do you mean you agree with her?”
I bit the inside of my cheek.
“I amnotbeing defensive.” She paced to the other side of the kitchen. “This is just my normal—” Another pause. “No, I'm not blushing. You can't even see me.”
I cleared my throat, shoulders shaking.
Rosie whipped around, shooting me a murderous look that would've been more effective if her face wasn't bright red.
“He's the town vet. He helps everyone. This isn't—” She stopped. “What do you mean he doesn't look at everyone like that? You've never even met him.”
My smile broke through.
“Agnes Clarke isseventyand spends her entire day watching people through binoculars. She's hardly a reliable—” Rosie groaned. “Fine. Yes. Okay. He's here. We're making cheese. Together. Is that what you wanted to hear?”
I watched her deflate against the counter.
“I love you both, too. Yes, I'm taking care of myself. No, I don't need relationship advice from—” She pulled the phone away again as Barbara's voice grew louder. “Barbara, I really appreciate your input, but?—”
Walt must have taken the phone back.
“I promise I'll call you later.” Rosie's shoulders sagged. “Yes, when he'snothere. Goodbye, Walt. Love you. Bye.”
She ended the call and set the phone down with exaggerated care.
Then she buried her face in her hands.
I waited, biting back a smile.
“I forgot how fast gossip spreads in small towns.” Her voice came out muffled. “Agnes Clarke saw us at the market yesterday, and by this morning, Walt already knew every detail. Including, apparently, how you looked at me.”
I crossed my arms, leaning against the counter. “How did I look at you?”
“Like—” Rosie dropped her hands. “I don't know. Mrs. Clarke used the word 'smitten.' Barbara got very excited.”
“Smitten's pretty accurate.”
Her eyes widened. “What?”
“I'm smitten.” I pushed off the counter, closing the distance between us. “Agnes Clarke nailed it.”
“You're—” She blinked. “You can't justsaythat.”
“Why not? It's true.” I tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I look at you like that because I can't help it.”
Her cheeks flushed deeper. “Cal.”
“If the whole town wants to call me smitten, I'll take it.” I traced my thumb along her jaw.
“You're impossible.” But she was smiling, hands sliding up my chest. “What am I supposed to tell Walt now?”
“The truth.” I rested my forehead against hers. “That we're together. That I'm here making cheese with you. That Agnes Clarke should mind her own business but she's not wrong.”
“Barbara's going to want so many details.”
“So give her some.”
