“I wasn't?—”
“You were.” She pointed at my face. “That expression right there. The one that says you're already calculating how many extra hours you'll need to work to make up for having fun.”
I opened my mouth, then closed it.
“Exactly.” She turned back to the computer. “So tell me about the market before you convince yourself you don't deserve some time off.”
“Tucker did well today. Got a few people interested in him.”
Her whole face brightened. “Really?”
“Yeah. A woman named Amanda seemed serious. She asked good questions, seemed to connect well with him.” I leaned against the desk. “I should be able to find him a family soon.”
“That's great.” Sharon leaned back in her chair, studying me with something close to pride. “That makes three dogs in two weeks.”
“Yeah.”
“Cal.” Her eyes locked on mine. “That'sreallygood. You realize that, right?”
I shrugged, but the lightness in my chest refused to fade. “Guess you were right.”
“I always am.” Her expression softened. “Though I think someone else deserves the credit.”
Heat crept up my neck. “I don't know what you're talking about.”
“Sure you don't.” She tapped her pen against the desk. “You smiled just now. Without looking like it physically pained you.”
“I smile.”
“Not like that, you don't.” She tilted her head, eyes sharp but warm. “Whatever's happening, it's good for you. Don't overthink it.”
“I should head back.” I pushed off the desk, needing to move before she could dissect me further. “To the market.”
“Mm-hmm.” Sharon's mouth curved into something knowing. “Wouldn't want to keep a pretty girl waiting.”
I turned toward the door, already moving before she could see my face.
My foot caught the edge of the door frame.
I stumbled, catching myself against the wall with one hand. Even more heat flooded my face as I straightened, refusing to look back.
“Careful there, Romeo,” Sharon called after me, her voice rich with amusement. “Try not to break anything important before you get there.”
I pushed through the door without responding, but her laughter followed me into the parking lot.
The afternoon air hit my face, a light breeze cutting through the heat. I set off toward Main Street, hands in my pockets, telling myself to walk at a normal pace, that there was no reason to hurry.
I lasted half a block.
My legs had other ideas, covering the distance in long, quick strides while my brain offered no meaningful resistance. I passed the hardware store, the post office, the little gap between buildings where the creek smell drifted up.
Then I turned the corner and spotted the white canopy of Rosie's booth above the thinning crowd.
Rosie had her back to me, reaching up to unhook one of the bundles of dried lavender hanging from the canopy frame. She stood on her toes, fingertips just barely brushing the twine.
“Need help?”
She yelped and spun around, hand flying to her chest. “Jesus, Cal!”