Chapter 15 #2
She had a stable life, a daughter, a house with yard. She could give Tucker everything he needed. She was the kind of person who could commit to things.
Cal was quiet for a moment. Tucker settled back against his leg.
“You would be, too.”
I looked up.
Cal wasn't looking at me. His jaw worked slightly, like he was deciding whether to keep going. Then he did.
“I know you're stretched thin.” He kept his eyes on Tucker. “And I know the farm is a lot right now. I'm not saying it makes sense.” A pause. “I'm just saying a dog would be lucky to land with you.”
“Cal.”
He finally looked at me.
“That might be the nicest thing you've ever said to me.”
“Low bar.”
“Extremely low bar,” I agreed. “And yet.”
Something shifted in his expression. Not quite a smile, but the territory just before one. His eyes stayed on mine a beat longer than usual, and I felt it the way you feel a change in weather before the clouds move.
“I've, uh.” He cleared his throat. Looked at Tucker. Looked back at me. “I've liked this. The market. Doing this with you.”
My heart did something complicated.
“You're good at it.” He gestured vaguely at the booth, the market, everything. “Better than you think you are. And I—” He stopped. Started again. “I like watching you figure it out.”
Tucker wagged his tail between us, completely oblivious to the fact that the ground had just tilted sideways.
“You like watching me panic over soap?”
“I like watching you solve things.” The corner of his mouth lifted. “The panic's just entertaining.”
I laughed, breathless and surprised.
Cal's expression softened. “You're going to make this work, Rosie.”
The certainty in his voice landed somewhere deep. Like he'd already decided and the universe just hadn't caught up yet.
I thought about the property taxes. The pre-order list. The lotion testers that had sold out. The notebook full of logos and business plans I'd sketched out late at night because I couldn't stop thinking about it.
I thought about Cal showing up at dawn to fix my chicken coop. Staying late to help me rebatch soap. Neither time had I asked him to. Both times, he'd just shown up and done it anyway.
September felt a million miles away.
September felt like a problem for someone else.
Because right now, standing in the middle of the farmers market with Cal looking at me like I'd already won—this was what mattered. This feeling. This man who'd somehow become essential to my happiness without ever intending to.
“Thank you,” I said quietly.
He nodded once, like he'd just stated a fact and nothing more.
Tucker shifted between us, and without thinking, I reached out and squeezed Cal's hand.
Just once. Quick. That's all it was supposed to be.
But his fingers curled around mine before I could pull away. Like he'd been waiting for permission and I'd just handed it to him.
My breath caught.
His thumb brushed across my knuckles once. Twice. The simplest movement, barely there, but it rewired something fundamental in my nervous system.
I looked up. Found him already looking at me.
The market noise faded to static. Just Cal, his hand warm around mine, his expression gone soft and uncertain in a way that made my chest ache.
“Rosie.”
The way he said my name—like a question and an answer at the same time.
I stepped closer without deciding to. His free hand came up to my elbow, steadying me, pulling me in. Not quite a hug. Not yet. Just the two of us standing too close in the middle of the farmers market, Tucker's leash looped around Cal's wrist, our fingers still tangled together.
“Is this—” Cal started.
“Yes.”
“You don't know what I was going to say.”
“Doesn't matter.” My voice came out breathless. “Whatever it was, yes.”
His mouth curved into the most beautiful smile, and then his arms were around me.
The hug happened all at once—his chest against mine, my face pressed into his shoulder, his hand splayed across my back. Solid and warm and real in a way that made my knees forget how to work properly.
I wrapped my arms around his waist and held on.
Cal made a sound low in his throat, something between relief and surrender, and tightened his grip. His chin came to rest on top of my head. I felt his breath hitch, then steady.
Tucker wagged his tail against my leg.
We stood there like that—too long for casual, not long enough for what it actually meant. His hand moved up to the space between my shoulder blades, fingers spreading wide, like he was memorizing the shape of me.
I turned my face slightly, my nose brushing the collar of his shirt. He smelled like soap and coffee and something woodsy I couldn't name. My heart hammered so hard I was certain he could feel it.
Movement caught my peripheral vision. Two women approached my booth, scanning the table, looking for someone to help them.
“I should—” My voice came out muffled against his shoulder. “I have customers.”
Cal's hand stilled on my back. “Yeah. You should.”
Neither of us moved.
His thumb traced a slow line along my spine, and my entire nervous system short-circuited. The women at my booth picked up a bundle of herbs, examining it. One looked around for me.
“Cal.”
“I know.”
Still, his arms didn't loosen. If anything, they tightened a fraction, like he was giving himself one more second. Just one.
I pressed my forehead against his chest, breathed him in one last time, then forced myself to step back.
It felt like the hardest thing I'd ever done.
My hands slid from his waist. His arms dropped away slowly, reluctantly, his fingers trailing across my back before falling to his sides. The space between us felt wrong, cold and empty, like we'd left something essential behind.
Cal's eyes held mine. Dark and steady and full of things neither of us were ready to say yet.
The air crackled.
I turned toward my booth before I could do something reckless, like step right back into his arms and stay there. My legs felt strange. My hands shook slightly as I reached for the herbs the customer was holding.
“Sorry about that,” I said, my voice coming out steadier than I had any right to expect. “How can I help you?”
The woman smiled. Started asking about my herbs and greens.
I answered her questions. Gave appropriate suggestions. Wrapped her purchase in brown paper.
The whole time, I felt Cal watching me.
When I glanced back, he stood exactly where I'd left him, Tucker beside him, his expression unreadable except for the faint curve at the corner of his mouth.
Like he knew.
Knew we'd just crossed a line neither of us could uncross.
Knew I'd decided to jump off the cliff, and he was falling with me.