All three of us watched him stride across the street, nodding hello to Annie and Liz as he passed.
“I know he’s your cousin, Caro, but that man is sex on a stick.” Viola sighed, fanning herself dramatically.
Did she have a crush on Roane? My gaze cut to her in concern and found her smirking at me. Almost assessing. Huh?
“He’s like a brother to you, Viola, so stop your nonsense.” Caro shot me a pointed look before frowning at her friend.
Mischief sparked in Viola’s gaze. “True, but I was speaking for Evie.”
Realizing Milly had probably filled her daughter’s head with speculation about Roane and me, I rolled my eyes and wandered over to my stall, calling over my shoulder, “I’m perfectly able to speak for myself, thank you.”
“I’m so happy I’ll be home to be there for the day you do,” Viola called back with a wink.
I laughed and shook my head, thinking she reminded me a lot of Milly.
The market opened minutes later, and the day began.
My concentration was split between running my stall and watching out for Caro. I soon learned, however, that Viola was the best person for that job. She was bright and shining, her friendly appeal bringing people to Caro’s stall, and Caro’s baking bringing them back for more. When Caro’s smile grew pained under the praise of strangers, Viola would deflect with questions about where they were from and whether they were on vacation.
Safe in the knowledge that my friend was in good hands, I moved my focus elsewhere, to the bakery. Tony, the baker, kept popping his head out of the door to shoot Caro dark looks. I’d seen very few customers approach the store once word of Caro’s amazing cakes and treats filled the market. I reminded myself to keep an eye out and let Roane know Tony clearly wasn’t happy about this development.
Another distraction came in the form of the Fosters. I watched with a growing ache in my chest as Maggie Foster stared at her daughter. There was a slight tightness to her mouth that might have pointed at disapproval if it weren’t for the melancholy sentiment I caught every now and again in her eyes.
As for Annie, she never once looked her mother’s way.
Liz did. She would shoot Maggie worried looks before shifting that anxiety to her wife.
It wasn’t right. A mother and daughter separated by the prejudices of the father. Something surely could be done to mend the breach.
I pondered the problem between customers, and it was only after lunch that something new caught my attention.
“What do you want, Lucas?” Viola’s snappish tone brought my head around in surprise. She’d emphasized the last syllable of the name so it sounded like “ass.” A tall young man stood in front of Caro’s stall, his arms crossed as he perused what was left of the baked goods, and there wasn’t much.
He was a little young for me to usually notice him, but Viola’s reaction to him was enough to draw my attention. Whoever he was, he was extremely good-looking, with thick dark blond hair, high cheekbones, a roman nose, and a pouting lower lip. With his angular jaw, long limbs, and broad shoulders, if anyone could be a model, it was him.
His strong biceps were visible in his dark blue T-shirt, and Viola eyed him with distaste.
I raised an eyebrow.
She was obviously unimpressed with his masculine beauty. Good. It meant the darling girl saw beyond these things to what mattered.
At that thought, my protective instincts kicked in.
Who was this kid that upset her with his mere presence?
“I came to sample your wares,” he announced loudly, eyes flickering up from the leftovers to Viola. “But unsurprisingly I’m not tempted.”
That little shit.
About to step forward, I was stopped by Viola’s cool reply. “Impotence is a problem for someone who finds no joy in life.”
I smirked.
The young man narrowed his eyes. “My problem is only around you. Funny that.”
“The fact that you find no joy in the company of a smart and witty woman is not surprising to me, Lucas Elliot. You prefer them dumb and silent, right?”
Ah. Lucas Elliot.
West Elliot’s youngest son.
Also home for summer vacation, I presumed.
Roane had said that he and Viola did not get along, but witnessing it in real life was something else. They visibly bristled as they interacted.
Lucas braced his hands on the stall and leaned forward, bringing his head closer to Viola’s. She didn’t even flinch. “I prefer them sweet like honey.” His gaze dropped to her mouth. “Not sour like vinegar.”
“Oh, Lucas.” Viola fluttered her lashes comically. “With original metaphors like that, you should be a poet.”
I tried to contain my snort.
A muscle twitched in her opponent’s jaw, and he straightened to his full height. Both of them seemed to have completely forgotten Caro was there and watching their interaction with avid curiosity. That would make two of us.