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…was I?
***
When Saturday morning arrived, the Farmer’s Market buzzed with activity. Since it was the height of summer in Ash Ridge, the street was packed with farmers and local businesses, selling a variety of goods—clothing, fresh bread and pastries, wildflower honey, and rainbow-colored saltwater taffy. And that was only what I could see from my booth on the corner. Vendors were crammed shoulder-to-shoulder for two full blocks.
“Hey, stranger.”
I turned to see Rory Copeland with her frizzy brown hair pulled into a messy ponytail. Flour was smudged on her jeans and a swath of sunburn spread across the bridge of her nose. I swear she befriended nearly everyone in this town as easily as breathing, chatting them up when they stopped by the bakery where she worked. We weren’t even that close but I felt as if I’d known her for my whole life.
Rory flung an arm around my shoulders with a tight squeeze and pressed a white paper bag into my hands.
“I haven’t seen you in ages!” she said. “When Cora said you were coming to stay permanently at Ash Ridge to take over the family homestead, I knew I had to put together a welcome home gift for you. So, I baked a few of my favorite recipes.”
I opened the bag and peeked inside. The scent of herbs and hot, yeasty bread wafted out, making my mouth water.
“God, it smellsincredible.”
“I hope it tastes just as good. There are gruyere popovers with chives and black pepper. Focaccia with rosemary, roasted garlic, and sun-dried tomatoes. Oh, and some blueberry streusel muffins. Those are a super popular favorite around here.”
“That’s very thoughtful. Thank you, Rory.”
“You’re welcome. And if you need any help at the homestead, let me know. I’d be happy to hop over and pitch in, especially while you’re getting settled.”
She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper.
“Drop by the bakery after hours and I’ll make sure to have a few doughnuts saved up for you to take home.”
“I thought my ears were burning. Are you two ladies talking about me?”
Rory’s smile vanished at the sound of Beau’s voice. He swaggered over to my booth, touching the brim of his hat with a nod and a smile that made my stomach flip. Behind him, the familiar figure of Landon moved as quietly as a shadow, his face shielded by his hat. He examined the crates of carrots I’d harvested this morning, freshly washed and tucked into brown paper bags.
Rory frowned and jutted her chin out.
“Actually, Callie and I weren’t talking about you at all, Beau. So, there’s no reason for your ears to be burning. We weren’t eventhinkingabout you.”
Beau placed a hand to his heart.
“Such sharp words from a sweet-faced angel. You wound me deeply, Aurora.”
She huffed. “Don’t call me that. I hate it.”
Beau braced his arms on my table and leaned toward her with a smirk.
“When will you finally admit you’d like a little honey to sweeten those sour lips and that wicked tongue of yours, darlin’?”
I raised my eyebrows. I couldn’t decide if I was amused by their verbal sparring, or if I was an intruder who should make myself scarce. Rory didn’t even bat an eye and matched Beau’s lean until they were nearly nose-to-nose.
“When will you stop trying to charm your way into yet another woman’s bed?”
“Did I miss something?” I asked.
“They’re always like this,” Landon said in the direction of the carrots.
“I beg your pardon?”
He nodded at Beau and Rory who were still locked in an unrelenting stare down.
“Started when they were kids. Beau tried to kiss Rory on the playground. Rory damn near knocked his teeth out of his head for it.”
