Page 49

Fairy lights were strung across the oak trees. The scent of roasted almonds mingled with the sharp tang of fermented apples. Locals crowded around the wooden stalls, and children chased each other across the grass. It was loud, vibrant, and exactly what Emma had envisioned for months.

She stood near the cider tent, wiping her hands on her apron. She was exhausted, her feet ached, but she could not stop smiling.

A few yards away, Victoria was standing near the entrance gate. She wore a crisp linen shirt with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows and tailored trousers that flattered every line of her frame. Even in the heat, she looked completely out of place among the flannel-clad farmers. Yet, Emma could hardly take her eyes off her.

Victoria was directing attendees with absolute precision, but the summer sun had softened her usual severity. Golden light caught the loose strands of hair escaping her chignon, illuminating the sharp slope of her nose. A faint sheen of sweat clung to her collarbone where the top buttons of her shirt remained undone. Every time she lifted a hand to point a vendor toward the courtyard, the fabric stretched taut across her back. Emma felt a familiar warmth pool low in her stomach, an ache born purely from watching a woman who had no business being that gorgeous in the middle of a muddy field.

"I have to admit, this is actually charming," a voice murmured.

Emma turned. Chloe was standing beside her. Victoria’s sister wore a sundress and wedges, looking like she belonged on a terrace in the Hamptons rather than an English country lawn.

"High praise coming from Manhattan." Emma said with a small smile.

"Well, the cider certainly helps." Chloe admitted, lifting her plastic cup. She looked over at Victoria, who was gesturing sharply toward the parking field with a clipboard. Chloe’s expression softened into amusement. "Look at her. I don't think I've seen her this invested in anything that didn't involve a skyscraper."

"She takes things seriously."

"Still, it suits her," Chloe mused. "I'm just glad I caught the show before heading out."

Emma blinked. "You are leaving soon?"

"Sunday morning." Chloe nodded. "I have a meeting in London on Monday. I finally tracked down an elusive queer artist for our gallery. Coming here first was just an excuse to make sure my sister hadn't lost her mind."

Before Emma could reply, a figure caught their attention near the central walkway. Lucy had set up her floral stall right across from the terrace. She spotted them through the crowd. Leaving Gary to tend her cash box, Lucy picked up a single scarlet rose from a zinc bucket. She clipped the thorns with two quick snaps of her shears, tucked the clippers into her back pocket, and sauntered straight toward them.

She stopped in front of Chloe, ignoring Emma. With a smooth flourish, Lucy held the stem out.

"For the best-dressed woman in the county." Lucy murmured.

Chloe blushed, taking the rose tentatively. "Thank you, Lucy. You are very sweet."

"Don't thank me yet," Lucy chuckled, her eyes tracing Chloe’s face. "I haven't even started trying to impress you."

Emma rubbed her temples, about to intervene when Victoria materialized beside them. Her posture was rigid. She glared at Lucy.

"Do not harass my sister," Victoria ordered, stepping between them. She turned to Chloe. "And you should not encourage her. What would Grant think?"

Chloe rolled her eyes, smelling the rose. "Grant is currently sleeping with his personal trainer. I am perfectly fine with a little encouragement."

Victoria's jaw dropped. "What? When did this happen?"

"Three weeks ago," Chloe said casually, flashing Lucy a dazzling smile. "And I am very much single."

Lucy’s grin widened into something feral. "That is the best news I have heard all year."

"Chloe, we need to talk about this," Victoria demanded, totally thrown.

"Later," Chloe dismissed, tucking the rose behind her ear. "Apparently the light show is about to start. I want a good spot."

Chloe walked away, her wedges sinking slightly into the grass. Lucy watched her go with predatory focus. Emma patted Lucy’s shoulder, suppressing a laugh, and grabbed a plastic cup of rose spritz from the nearby stall.

"Focus, Luce," Emma warned.

The main event of the evening was a visual history of Rosebrook, projected directly onto the facade of the inn. Emma walked back toward the terrace to get a better view. Victoria was already there, rubbing her forehead.

"Are you okay?" Emma asked, stepping beside her.

Victoria dropped her hand. "My sister is newly single. And your friend looks like she wants to devour her."