2. Chapter Two
Chapter Two
A Good Man, But Not the Right One
Maeve
T he village is already in full swing by the time I make my way through the main square.
Merchants set up their stalls, displaying fresh produce and dried herbs.
Children chase each other between the carts, squealing with laughter, while their mothers shake their heads with fond exasperation.
The scent of warm bread and roasting meat fills the air, and, for a second, I consider delaying my chores further in favor of just one honey roll.
Then I hear my name being called.
“Hey, Maeve!”
I turn and spot Jacob Carter, standing outside his family’s farm stand. He’s tall, with sun-warmed skin, soft brown eyes, and hands roughened from working the land. His sleeves are rolled up, showing strong arms, and he’s got a friendly smile that always seems to be waiting just for me.
“Good morning, Jacob,” I say, stepping closer. His stall is full of plump tomatoes, crisp apples, and bundles of fresh herbs.
“Morning,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ve saved something for you.”
He reaches into a basket and pulls out a perfectly ripe peach, golden and blushing pink at the edges. My heart does a little squeeze. He’s always doing kind and thoughtful things like this for me.
“You didn’t have to do that,” I say, though I take the peach anyway because I’m not a fool.
Jacob grins. “I know. But I figure you’ll need something sweet to get through the day.”
I bite into it, and the juice bursts over my lips, trickling down my chin before slipping in a slow, sticky trail down my neck. It glides between the curves of my full breasts, disappearing into the dip of my cleavage.
Jacob’s gaze follows the path of the juice, his throat bobbing as he swallows. His fingers twitch at his sides like he’s fighting the urge to reach out and wipe it away himself.
“Jacob Carter,” I tease, licking the sweetness from my thumb, “if you’re trying to woo me with peaches, you might succeed.”
His ears turn pink, but his eyes don’t leave mine. “Well…there could be worse things I could do to win a girl’s heart.”
I laugh, and the truth is, I do like him. He’s good. Sweet, patient, always willing to help when anyone in the village needs it. He’d make a wonderful husband…for someone else.
I hate that I can’t force my heart to want more. It would be so easy. Jacob would be kind. He would take care of me, never raise his voice, and never make me feel like I was just part of a trade agreement. But when I look at him, I feel affection, not fire.
I press my fingers over his hand, squeezing lightly. “Thank you, Jacob. Really.”
Something flickers in his expression—hope maybe—but before he can say anything else, a voice calls from behind me.
“Maeve! Hurry up!”
I glance back to see Beatrice and the others gathered near the barn, waiting. Time to work.
“I should go.”
He nods, and I give him my sweetest smile. “See you later?”
“Always.”
I turn and jog after the others, the taste of peach lingering on my tongue.