“Low bar.”
“Extremely low bar,” I agreed. “And yet.”
Something shifted in his expression. Not quite a smile, but the territory just before one. His eyes stayed on mine a beat longer than usual, and I felt it the way you feel a change in weather before the clouds move.
“I've, uh.” He cleared his throat. Looked at Tucker. Looked back at me. “I've liked this. The market. Doing this with you.”
My heart did something complicated.
“You're good at it.” He gestured vaguely at the booth, the market, everything. “Better than you think you are. And I—” He stopped. Started again. “I like watching you figure it out.”
Tucker wagged his tail between us, completely oblivious to the fact that the ground had just tilted sideways.
“You like watching me panic over soap?”
“I like watching yousolvethings.” The corner of his mouth lifted. “The panic's just entertaining.”
I laughed, breathless and surprised.
Cal's expression softened. “You're going to make this work, Rosie.”
The certainty in his voice landed somewhere deep. Like he'd already decided and the universe just hadn't caught up yet.
I thought about the property taxes. The pre-order list. The lotion testers that had sold out. The notebook full of logos and business plans I'd sketched out late at night because Icouldn't stop thinking about it.
I thought about Cal showing up at dawn to fix my chicken coop. Staying late to help me rebatch soap. Neither time had I asked him to. Both times, he'd just shown up and done it anyway.
September felt a million miles away.
September felt like a problem for someone else.
Because right now, standing in the middle of the farmers market with Cal looking at me like I'd already won—thiswas what mattered. This feeling. This man who'd somehow become essential to my happiness without ever intending to.
“Thank you,” I said quietly.
He nodded once, like he'd just stated a fact and nothing more.
Tucker shifted between us, and without thinking, I reached out and squeezed Cal's hand.
Just once. Quick. That's all it was supposed to be.
But his fingers curled around mine before I could pull away. Like he'd been waiting for permission and I'd just handed it to him.
My breath caught.
His thumb brushed across my knuckles once. Twice. The simplest movement, barely there, but it rewired something fundamental in my nervous system.
I looked up. Found him already looking at me.
The market noise faded to static. Just Cal, his hand warm around mine, his expression gone soft and uncertain in a way that made my chest ache.
“Rosie.”
The way he said my name—like a question and an answer at the same time.
I stepped closer without deciding to. His free hand came up to my elbow, steadying me, pulling me in. Not quite a hug. Not yet. Just the two of us standing too close in the middle of the farmers market, Tucker's leash looped around Cal's wrist, our fingers still tangled together.
“Is this—” Cal started.
