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I turned the engine off and hopped out. Ryan followed and walked around the car toward me just in time to see me reach down, grip the sides of my long trackies, and give them a sharp tug. The buttons along both sides of them split open and I was left standing in a pair of soft, dark green, wide-legged sweat shorts.

“What the fuck?” Ryan asked as several people turned to look at me.

“Where did you pack all that, baby?” a man called with hands cupped around his mouth, and I beamed.

“They were right under my trousers,” I replied. “So cool, right?”

“Very!” The man gave me a very slow look up and down, and I gave him a little twirl so he could see the shorts from all angles. I was about to tell him the name of the brand when Ryan stepped closer and positioned himself between me and the admiring gentleman, hands bracketing my shoulders protectively but not touching.

“I’m gonna have my hands full with you,” he said.

I gazed up at him and shook my head to reassure him, placing a hand on his chest. “I told you I wasn’t planning on buying that much.”

He looked down at my hand on him and I flushed. His chest wasn’t oiled up and sweat-slick like in my dream but I could almost pretend it was.

I removed my hand to be safe and turned to drop my trackies inside the car before closing the door and locking it.

When I turned back around he was running a hand over his face. “Why’d you take the trackies off? It’s cold as balls outside.”

“I told you, I hate them,” I said. “I just hate the leather seats against my skin more, so I wear those when I drive. They’re my driving trousers.”

“All of your trousers were meant for driving,” he grumbled. “Driving me insane.”

“I thought you liked my shorts,” I said, leading him towards the little archway that led into the market.

“Oh, I do,” he said, trailing after me, eyes glued to my bum. “Very much.”

I did a booty shake of happiness. “Come on. We want to be home before the crew does something weird.”

“They’re a bunch of ghosts. Weird is literally all they do.”

“You might have a point there.” I chuckled, spotting and walking towards one of my favourite booths. I couldn’t afford to buy anything from it, but I wanted to take a quick looksie.

“Owain!” Tristan greeted me with a wide smile and a gleam in his eye from behind his table. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”

“I’ve been really busy running the B&B.” I stopped next to one of the metal racks he had in his booth. It was lined with matching crochet sets; shirts and shorts that I adored. Tristan made them himself and sold them at the market.

I had a few sets I’d bought from him before and I always wanted more. But they were pricey, and the money in my bank account was…mostly gone.

“I have something you’ll like,” Tristan said, winking at me. He turned around before I could stop him because I had no intention of buying anything. He walked a bit further away and bent down to rummage through a plastic box.

“He’s…interesting,” Ryan said, coming up to my side, quite literally. Our arms brushed, the backs of our hands bumping and sending a small thrill through me.

I considered his words. I guessed he was right. Tristan was a vision. He had long, braided hair thrown over one shoulder, piercing dark eyes, smooth, tan skin and a neatly trimmed beard covering the lower half of his face. He was tall and willowy in that elegant, supermodel-esque way. Not my type at all, but I could see why he’d be Ryan’s.

“Beautiful.” I nodded, trying not to sound jealous.

“Here we go, babes.” Tristan came back and placed a pair of shorts in front of me, making me want to cry. They were the prettiest thing I had ever seen. Ombre yarn going from eggshell white to dark blue in a tiny scallop design, ending in the cutest frilly edge.

I loved them. So much I wanted to hug them and never put them on so they weren’t ruined.

“Oh.” I stepped closer, running my hand over them like they were a piece of art. “These are gorgeous.”

“I thought of you when I made them,” Tristan said, and I felt Ryan move closer too, his chest brushing my back this time. “And I think I might not be the only one imagining you in them.”

“Oh, I can absolutely see myself in these.” I held them up against me, sighing when the soft material touched my bare legs below my own shorts. I wanted them so much. “But I can’t…”

I put them back, barely able to pry my fingers off of them.