Love Him Free (On the Market #1) - E.M. Lindsey Page 0,21

never hesitated when wearing short sleeves, or extending his scarred hand when meeting new people.

Fitz had been the sort of man Simon had always wanted to be—the man he knew he never could. The sort of charismatic, happy-go-lucky man who took tragedy with the same enthusiasm as he took joy. Simon did like that about him. He liked that Fitz had matured into a kinder, softer person. He liked that he never hesitated to try and include Simon, even when it meant encroaching on his quiet time Wednesday morning.

“My brother has the truck, you know,” Simon pointed out. “I don’t need to set up a booth if Levi is going to be there.”

Fitz shuffled his feet a little and gave him an imploring look. “We all love Levi’s new thing,” he waved his hand around in an absent gesture. “It’s good. But Bette’s stuff is part of the town.”

“I just don’t know if I have the manpower to do a booth and the store,” Simon admitted. Kyle would be useless at the shop by himself—and Simon wouldn’t trust him anyway, but turning him loose at the Farmer’s Market would be a recipe for disaster—and a possible sexual harassment suit.

“It’s in the evening. I mean, Bette’s closes early anyway, right?”

Simon couldn’t argue there. “Yes, but…”

“You can keep a limited menu. Just…cookies, and maybe the bagels.” He drawled the last word to remind Simon how often the station ordered bagels from them, and he fought hard to suppress a smile. “Bette used to do it when we were kids.”

Simon’s gut clenched a little, because that was true. She loved it. It reminded her of the market back home, and it had been that little piece of her life in Israel she’d been able to keep. Simon had been tasked with keeping an eye on Levi who wanted to touch anything and everything, but he was usually content with a snow cone and a Spiderman face paint.

It had been years since Simon had set foot in the market.

“We made sure it was moved back from Friday nights,” Fitz told him softly.

Simon raised his eyes, startled a little by the admission. “You…”

“Not just for you,” Fitz said, like he understood Simon didn’t want special treatment or to be put on the spot like that. “But it’s a bonus, right? Please?”

He wasn’t going to say no. He’d known that the moment Fitz walked into the shop with the familiar flyers clutched in his hand. “I just need to make sure Levi doesn’t mind.”

“He doesn’t,” Fitz said. “He’s the one who told me to come over here.” Fitz leaned over and snagged a piece of the rugelach from the dome-covered plate of samples—a batch that had burnt just enough he couldn’t sell them. But Fitz groaned like it was heaven, and Simon felt his cheeks heat. “I’ll add your name to the list, and I’ll come by with your booth assignment. Do you think you can start up next week?”

The market had been going on since the start of May, but it never really picked up until June—when the weather was at its best, and they had more visitors from around the area than not.

“That should be fine,” he said quietly.

Fitz patted the counter twice with the flat of his palm, then winked when Simon looked up at him. “See you soon.”

Simon sagged against the marble once the door swung shut, and he had half a mind to flip the sign to closed. No one was going to come in for end of day pastries anyway, and if he really was going to do this next week, he needed time to plan. Part of him wanted to send a message to his brother and chew him out for doing this—for putting him on the spot like that.

Wanting to be a little more social was one thing, but forcing him to integrate into a town that had spent the early part of his childhood ruthlessly mocking him for his differences wasn’t what he had in mind. He liked the Motel brothers—he tolerated James as best he could, and Charlie was a good guy. Even the Lodge’s housekeeper, Theo, occasionally stopped in to gossip with Kyle and he wasn’t insufferable.

He’d even started to consider himself actual friends with Collin. So, he wasn’t totally alone, but this seemed like so much.

And yet, he also recognized it for what it was—an olive branch. Levi understood the food truck was competition with Chametz. This was his way of making peace, making