direction, the young couple sauntered in the direction of the harbor.
I turned to Viola to crack a joke, but closed my mouth immediately.
She was staring after Lucas and the girl with real, true pain in her eyes.
Suddenly, their passionate encounter took on a different edge.
Did Viola have a crush on Lucas Elliot? Was that the reason for their antagonism? Unrequited love?
Thinking of the way everyone else seemed to disappear for him as Lucas took on a battle of wits with Viola, I wondered if it was unrequited after all. Any guy would find indifference toward Viola Tait almost impossible—not just because she was gorgeous (although knowing young guys, that was certainly enough) but because she was quick-witted and self-confident.
Hmm.
Deciding it was best to avoid the topic of Lucas Elliot and his mysterious girl, I asked Caro about staying the night.
“Oh, I don’t know. I should probably go home.” She bit her lip.
“Stay. We can have a sleepover.” Viola grinned at me. “That was me inviting myself too.”
I laughed and slung my arm over her small shoulders. “You’re very welcome.” We both turned to Caro with hopeful gazes. “What do you say? Girls’ night?”
Her smile was slow but genuine. “How can I say no?”
“You can’t. I won’t let you.”
Not too long after, Roane arrived with a few more men to load the rented stalls into the van. I stood by the back of the van as Roane shut the door. Caro was waiting for Viola, who was putting together a small bag for their stay at my apartment. We’d said goodbye to all of our market sellers, who thanked us for a great day, and I’d watched Annie and Liz leave without a backward glance at Maggie.
Who stood in the doorway of her store and stared down Main Street until Annie was out of sight.
“She sold everything.” Roane crossed his arms over his chest and smiled softly at me. He was dirty and disheveled from working the farm, and sweat glistened on his temples. He smelled musky and warm with exertion, and I had to ignore the impulse to bury my face in his throat.
I didn’t know what had gotten into me.
But the urge came over me more frequently these days.
Swallowing hard, I looked toward The Anchor. “Oh yeah. She sold out just after lunchtime.”
“Maybe it’ll give her the boost she needs.”
I nodded. “I saw a woman watching from the lane. Dressed like Caro. Nasty scowl on her face.”
Roane frowned. “Helena?”
“I’m pretty sure. Caro didn’t see her. Thankfully. But I’ve invited her to stay with me again tonight. I don’t want her to go home to that woman and spoil what has been a great day for our girl.”
Suddenly I found myself hauled against Roane, my face pressed to his throat after all, as he squeezed me tight in his arms. I gripped the back of his T-shirt, the fabric damp from all of his physical activity. “What’s this for?” My question came out muffled.
He eased his hold, and I stepped back before I did something stupid. However, seeing his expression, I wondered if his arms weren’t a safer place. He really needed to stop looking at me like the sun rose and set with me.
“Thank you for looking out for Caro. I tried my best.” Roane scrubbed a hand over his face, his beard bristling noisily as he did so. “It wasn’t enough. She needed someone like you.”
“You’ve done a great job looking out for your cousin.” But who looks out for you, Roane? Who made him feel cared for? “I have Caro and Viola at my place tonight for girls’ night, but I was thinking tomorrow I could cook you dinner.”
His gaze sharpened, and I realized belatedly how that sounded. It sounded like I was asking him on a date.
“Or you know what would be even better, I’ll buy you dinner at The Anchor. To thank you for setting this”—I gestured to the van with the stalls—“up.”
His long study of me was discomfiting to say the least, and I shifted from one foot to the other. Finally, he looked toward The Anchor with an expression bordering on disappointment. “Aye. Sounds good.”
Worryingly, his tone suggested otherwise. I opened my mouth to say something, anything, to take away the sudden weariness I saw in him, but he beat me to it with a tight smile.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He moved past me without another word, and the amount of uneasiness I felt at his abrupt departure was kind of melodramatic.