Page 49 of The Sweetest Thing
A dozen kids were talking and laughing and scurrying all over the place, but all of that was hazy. Tansy, on the other hand, was crystal clear and painfully beautiful.This can’t be real.He took a deep breath and spoke, needing something—anything—to ground him again. “Tansy.” He ran a hand over his hair, his throat tight.
“I shouldn’t have done that... In the barn.” She took a deep breath. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” He stepped closer.
She smiled up at him then. “I’m not—really.” Her gaze lingered on his mouth so long, he damn near reached for her. But then, she shook her head and stepped back. “Let’s get to work. This mural won’t paint itself.”
She’d done it again, astonished him. And even though a part of him worried this couldn’t end well, he’d deal with that later. For now, he could hardly wait to see what sort of surprise she had in store next.
CHAPTER NINE
“ISHOULDHAVEbought another cup of coffee. I think I’m going to need it.”
“I told you.” Astrid laughed. “You could have stayed home today, you know. I could handle the booth alone. It’s always slower on Sundays and I know you’re tired. I heard you up and around—and that was after painting all day in the hot sun while managing a herd of unruly teenagers. And Dane.”
Dane... She drew in a steadying breath. She’d had all sorts of thoughts about him. “Sorry.” Tansy smothered a yawn. “My brain wouldn’t turn off, you know?” She hadn’t told Astrid what had happened.What I did. If she hadn’t thrown herself at Dane, that kiss wouldn’t have happened. It had been spontaneous and reckless and bone-meltingly wonderful.
“I know your brain.” Astrid smiled. “I wasn’t aware it ever turned off. What were you pondering at two in the morning?”
Mostly Dane.And kissing him. It was pathetic, really. One kiss and she seemed to have forgotten who Dane really was. Tansy stood and stretched, searching the row of canopies and tents for familiar faces. “Where do I start... The Honey Festival is a couple of weeks off. Healthy & Wholesome Markets contract. Keeping our home. Beating Dane—the Knudsons...” After yesterday, she wasn’t sure how she felt about that part. Not just the knee-weakening kiss, but how sweet he’d been to her for the rest of the day. Not the sarcastic thing where he said one thing but his snarky delivery and superior expression guaranteed he meant something else. No, he seemed sincere.Seemed.
“Oh, so nothing big.” Astrid shook her head.
“Exactly.” She took a sip of coffee, eager to change the subject. “I wasn’t the only one up, you know. Aunt Mags was cleaning out the pantry. Everything, and I mean everything, was out and lined up on the counters.”
“Oh dear.” Astrid frowned. “That’s a bad sign.”
“I offered to help but she said it was therapeutic for her.” Tansy held her Honey Hill Farms travel mug to her temple, soothing the slight ache there. “I asked if she wanted company and she said she wasjust fine.” Aunt Mags wasn’t fine—they all knew that. But none of them had any ideas on how to make it better.
A customer interrupted their conversation with a question. Astrid explained the different varieties of honey they had and listed off the benefits of their homemade soaps and lotions. In the end, Tansy loaded up one of their logoed canvas shopping bags with three jars of honey, four gift packs of soap and two bottles of Honey Silk Lotion.
“Nicole’s right,” Tansy said, waving after their customer. “You are a born salesperson.”
“I suppose that’s a good thing, since we do have to sell stuff.” She stooped, lifting the table cover and rifling through a wooden crate. “We’re going to need to make more Honey Silk Lotion. We’re getting low.”
“I think that was on Aunt Camellia’s to-do list.” Tansy opened her phone. “But I’ll send her a quick text.”
Astrid laughed. “You know you’ll get a novel in return.”
It was true. Aunt Camellia’s texts were more like a rambling train of thought. While amusing, it took at least two reads to figure out what she might be after. “Fair. I’ll make a note to tell her when she gets here.” She glanced at Astrid. “I wonder if Aunt Mags will come, too.”
The aunts always attended the Alpine Springs Arts and Wine Festival. They both loved art, a good bottle of wine and the opportunity to dine at one of the eccentric bistros scattered between the galleries and shops. No trip was complete without a stop at the Alpine Springs Chocolatier. Aunt Mags, after several glasses of wine, would say this was the only festival that had any sense of culture, which always made Aunt Camellia smile and say,You mean chocolate. It has chocolate. And they’d both laugh.
They could use some laughter. Wine and chocolate, too.
The morning clipped along, a steady flow of customers buying out all the Honey Silk Lotion, and every jar of mesquite honey and wildflower honey they’d brought with them. Tansy happily tucked away the profits and finished off her coffee. “I’m out.” She tipped her mug upside down.
“Oh, that face.” Astrid laughed. “I did pack lunch. No coffee but it’s something.” She pulled the small cooler from under the table. “I brought some of the bread Aunt Mags baked, peanut butter, some of last year’s creamed lavender honey, some grapes and...a lemon-honey cupcake.”
“One?” Tansy ignored the rumble of her tummy and flopped into her camp chair. “I’m not sure I’ll make it.”
“One each.” Astrid pointed into the cooler. “I know better.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Do you need me to go on a coffee hunt?”
“No. But I love you even more for offering.” Tansy grinned.
“You go.” Astrid pulled her up. “It’ll perk you up to move aroundandI’ll make the sandwiches so they’ll be ready when you get back.”
Tansy’s groan was for Astrid’s sake. “Fine.”
