In the Market for Love

by Squires, Megan

  “The powers that be won’t see it that way. If there’s any sort of collaboration, she’ll be considered one, too. Honestly, just her flower farm being on the same land might be enough to get them disqualified.”

  Geri hunkered down in the cushions. “So what’s our plan? Keep Cole’s true identity hidden? Create an alter ego?” She thought on it a moment, then her eyes grew wide. “Just like Superman and Clark Kent!”

  “Cole’s already registered as the landscape designer,” Sophie explained. “We just have to make sure we keep our relationship under wraps.”

  “Relationship!” Geri hugged herself. “I never thought I’d hear you say those words! I knew there was hope for you yet, dear.”

  Sophie had misspoken, but still felt the insult. “Not that there is a relationship. I just mean, we can’t be involved in any way.”

  “Too late for that,” Caroline said. “I see the way he looks at you, Sophie. The man is smitten.”

  “Hardly.”

  “No, I’m serious. It’s like there’s no one else in the room.” Caroline sputtered a laugh. “And that’s hard to accomplish in a room filled with people as loud as the Potters.”

  “I’ll give you that.”

  Just then, guitar strumming from the back of the house filtered into the family room, musical notes reverberating through the air. The familiar twang of Dad’s guitar had Sophie instantly transported back to her childhood, back when her father would sing them to sleep, his guitar resting gently upon his knee while he sat on the hope chest at the foot of Sophie’s bed. There was a deep comfort in the sound of that instrument and an even deeper comfort in her father’s strong voice accompanying the melody.

  But the voice that pulled up the fine hairs on the back of Sophie’s neck didn’t belong to her father. No, the rich, buttery tone was new—one she’d never heard before. There was a controlled power to it, an effortless range that spiked high and dove low, meeting each note with perfect pitch and tone.

  Caroline’s eyes went wide. “Is that—?”

  “Cole?” Sophie breathed. “It must be.”

  “Oh, honey, you’ve got to snag that man! He’s handsome and he can sing! I only lucked out with one of those particular traits with your father, and I’m not going to say which one.”

  Sophie almost couldn’t register her mother’s words, her attention fully seized by Cole’s singing. Without meaning to, her eyes slipped shut, the timbre of his voice one of the purest sounds she’d ever heard. She got lost in it; swallowed up in the cadence and lilt.

  “I think you’ve found your musical talent for Tuesday’s market, Soph,” Caroline said as she picked her magazine up and flipped back to the page where she had left off earlier. “And based on that smile on your face, I think you might’ve found even more than that.”

  10

  Cole

  “I’M SO SORRY you had to endure that, Cole.” Sophie leaned against the bumper of Cole’s rental car, her arms folded across her chest, hugging herself for warmth as she ran her hands up and down her biceps. There was a welcome chill to the air accompanying the delta breeze that had rolled in right after they finished dinner. It made for the perfect ambiance to sit on Sophie’s parents’ back deck with a mug of coffee in hand while Jerry recounted the rock band days of his youth. To Cole, it had been the perfect finish to a great evening spent in enjoyable conversation and company.

  “I didn’t endure anything,” Cole answered. “Believe it or not, I actually had a good time with your family.”

  “You don’t have to be nice just for the sake of being nice, Cole.”

  “I’m not.” He held up his hand in a salute. “Scout’s honor.”

  Sophie smiled, glancing up from under her dark lashes. The cresting moon reflected soft light across her face, highlighting the feminine angles and curves of her sloping cheekbones and parted lips. She held Cole’s gaze when she said, “They really liked you.”

  “I really liked them.”

  I really like you, was actually on the tip of Cole’s tongue, but he didn’t let the words find their way out. He was unsure what to say next, but knew he didn’t want their time together to end. He would prolong it any way he could. “Will you be at the flower farm tomorrow?”

  “Yep, I plan to be.”

  “Me too. Want me to pick you up on my way?”

  “I’d love that,” Sophie said, smiling so brightly her eyes scrunched at the corners.

  “Can I grab you a coffee?”

  “That would be awesome. Decaf white mocha, please.”

  “Decaf?” Cole chuckled. “What’s the point of even drinking coffee at all if it’s going to be decaf?”

  “I like coffee for its flavor, not necessarily for the caffeine.”

  “Said no one ever.”

  “Well then, that must make me the first.”

  “It must.” He grinned from ear to ear. “Sophie.” Cole paused, his eyes meeting hers as his brow lowered. “I really did have a great time tonight. I know you were just being nice by inviting me along, but I’m glad you did. I loved meeting your family, but if I’m being honest, I did notice your efforts to derail any conversation that had to do with the McAllister project. I just want you to know that if this contest is going to cause any problems within your family, then I’m out. I won’t be the one to come between you and your brother. It’s just another job for me.”

  “Cole, you and I both know that isn’t true. This could be the job. The one to change everything for you.”

  “My career aspirations are far less important than your family’s relationships, Sophie. I want you to know that.”

  “Things are good with me and my brothers. Maybe not great between the two of them individually, but I’m sort of the middleman in that way. Always have been. The peacemaker, you know?”

  “Which is why I don’t want to disrupt the peace.”

  “You’re not, Cole. And this project won’t, either. As long as we maintain a cordial, professional relationship, they can’t really pin anything on us.”

  Cole stepped forward, lessening the space between them. “So we shouldn’t be caught doing this?” In one fluid movement, he drew Sophie into himself, holding her tightly against his chest as he pulled her close with his hands placed at the small of her back.

  Sophie melted. Her face met the warm crook of Cole’s neck and she exhaled deeply, her breath feathering across his flushed skin. Cole rested his chin against the top of Sophie’s head and allowed his eyelids to fall shut. He breathed in her intoxicating scent of lavender and vanilla, getting lost in the aroma. It had been so long since he felt this way about a woman. It startled him. They had met just days earlier, but the feelings he had for Sophie only intensified with each moment together. He almost didn’t know what to do with them.

  Drawing back, Cole placed a light kiss on Sophie’s forehead.

  “Cole—”

  “I’m sorry, Sophie. I shouldn’t have done that.”

  “No,” she stuttered, eyelashes fluttering and her breath quaking out from her. “Please do.”

  Sophie placed a hand on either side of Cole’s jaw and stood up on her toes to leave a soft kiss on his cheek. “I’ll see you bright and early.” She beamed. “With my decaf coffee.”

  * * *

  FOR NOT BEING able to be seen with one another, Cole and Sophie sure spent a lot of time together. All of Monday, they worked at the McAllister property, from the first break of sunrise to the waning moments of sundown. Sophie tended to her flowers while Cole met with Tanner and a few men from his team to further discuss the layout and design, and even though they didn’t say more than a few words, the glances Cole and Sophie exchanged from across the yard contained a novel full of emotion. Cole’s thoughts would wander while Tanner spoke about the permits he’d need to pull down at the county or the amount of lumber they would have to order. Cole physically had to shake his head to break from his reverie and tether himself back down to earth. He had the most ethereal feeling ev
ery time he thought back to the previous night with Sophie in his arms.

  But he needed to focus.

  Luckily, Kelly McAllister loved the proposed design and instructed Cole to get right to work on making it a backyard reality. There were a few items to adjust, but the overall concept was a go. Over the next few weeks, they had plans to build a set of miniature silos, an expansive patio pergola, a substantial working windmill, and redwood retaining walls to frame it all in. It would be his most intricate project to date and that excited Cole just as much as it intimidated him.

  He spent the majority of Monday night working out the details of the project and stayed up much later than he should have rehearsing a few songs for the Farmers’ Market the following evening. When Sophie had asked if he would be willing to play, Cole’s kneejerk reaction was to say no. It had been years since he performed in any sort of public setting. But he would be lying if he said living in Nashville wasn’t inspiration enough to pick his guitar back up. All one had to do was walk two blocks up Broadway. The talent was overflowing, spilling out of each bar and club. You could hear the hopes and dreams of tomorrow’s Billboard artists echoing through every open door.

  Cole was never one to aspire to any sort of fame, but he sure did love picking up a guitar and getting lost in song. That instrument became his companion right after Caleb had died. Back then, Cole had a hard time articulating his thoughts and feelings, especially when it came to his older brother’s unexpected passing. He closed up. Shut down. But one of his brother’s friends had gifted him a hand-me-down guitar for his sixteenth birthday and when Cole’s fingers brushed the strings, it was like he had unlocked an entirely new language.

  The emotions he couldn’t put to words found notes instead. There was always a melody to match his mood, and that endless repertoire of emotion was a saving grace for Cole back in those lost, struggling years.

  But as he prepared for his Farmers’ Market debut, the only tunes Cole could summon from memory were the happiest, joy-filled ones. Maybe that was because those were the emotions he had experienced since setting foot in Fairvale. Cole practiced for hours, until his fingertips and voice were raw from overuse. But it felt so good to express himself this way again. Every melody had Sophie at the very heart of it. Her determined spirit echoed out in the staccato notes. Her soft, thoughtful glances were in the tender, quiet strums. And the jubilant, up-tempo rhythm was their growing relationship.

  Sophie was as beautifully complex as a song, and that reality had Cole pulling out a sheet of blank paper to compose his own tune meant just for her. He couldn’t keep from doing so.

  * * *

  WHEN TUESDAY ROLLED around, Cole knew Sophie would have her hands full as she prepared for the market. He had offered his help, but she’d declined, saying she didn’t want to monopolize his time when she knew the McAllister project should be his number one priority. But somehow, over the course of just one short week, Cole’s priorities had shifted.

  Yes, he still wanted to win the contest, but that need to prove himself was no longer there. His ties back home and to the firm had loosened, and what mattered in the moment was Sophie. Her happiness. Her success. Cole wanted nothing but for Sophie to realize her dreams. That scared him, and if he was being honest, an admission of that sort would probably scare her, too.

  So he decided to keep it to himself. Cole wasn’t about to ruin things with premature declarations of affection. It was still so early on, anyway. Like Sophie’s flowers, there were stages to a relationship. Flowers didn’t start off in full bloom. No, they began as buds, bound tightly, protected from potential hurt or harm. Then, as though they slowly began to trust the outside world around them, they unfurled with gentle caution, each petal opening up more and more until they stretched fully, letting the sun wash over them in uninhibited splendor.

  Getting to know someone—and falling for them—was a process not unlike the blooming of a flower. Cole and Sophie would need to take things slow if they were to take them anywhere at all.

  But writing a song for her didn’t feel like it fit into the “taking things slow” category. Cole figured she wouldn’t even know it was about her. It could be about anyone, really. But the fact that he had composed it in under an hour, the words and the notes pouring out of him like a rushing stream of creativity, only made it even more clear that she had been his muse. A melody brought to life that quickly could only be achieved with someone meaningful as the inspiration.

  * * *

  COLE ARRIVED AT the market just as the vendors were popping up their tents. Farmers carried large cardboard boxes filled with ripe fruits and vegetables from their vehicles to be displayed on tables with red and white checkered cloths. There were sellers with lotions made from goat milk, and Cole even noticed a few florists selling wildflower-like bouquets wrapped in brown parchment and tied with twine.

  There was a buzz about the community center parking lot as it transformed from an asphalt oasis into a pop-up market filled with the county’s best foods and wares. And there, in the very middle of it all was Sophie, clipboard in hand and a denim apron worn over a yellow sundress that twirled out at her slim waistline. She had on a floppy straw hat, the same one Cole had seen her wear in the garden, and her hair was swept into a low ponytail that trailed down her back.

  She was breathtaking.

  Cole hiked the strap to his guitar bag higher onto his shoulder and made his way through the crowd to reach her.

  Sophie was in conversation with one of the vendors about tent placement, but when she caught Cole’s gaze, she halted. An enormous grin burst onto her face.

  “I will get that figured out for you in just a moment, Dante,” she said with a reassuring hand placed on the man’s forearm. “For now, you are welcome to set up next to Isabelle’s Acres. I know Four Oaks Farm isn’t going to be out here today, so there’ll be an empty spot this week.”

  “That’ll be just fine, Sophie,” the man said. “Appreciate it.”

  “Let me know if you need anything else.”

  The man tipped his hat. “Sure thing.”

  Stepping forward, Sophie hurried over to Cole. “Hey! You made it.”

  “Of course I made it. I wouldn’t miss this.” Cole glanced around, taking it all in. “This really is fantastic, Sophie.”

  “This isn’t even half of the vendors we have signed up for the season. It’s still early. In a few weeks, we’ll have even more flowers and produce. That’s really when all of this comes alive.” Her eyes lit up. “I’ve got you over by Eagleton’s Egg Farm. There’s an amp and speakers already set up for you if you’d like to use them. I wasn’t sure if you’d have them, considering you had to borrow Dad’s guitar and all.” She blew out a breath. “I’m sorry I asked you to do this, Cole, but you’re really helping me out. I promise I’ll find someone else for next week.”

  “I’m glad you asked me, Sophie. If you haven’t noticed, making myself useful is one of my favorite pastimes. In fact, I was up all night practicing.”

  “Oh no! Really? I’m so sorry.”

  “Stop apologizing.” Cole took Sophie’s shoulders gently into his grip so they could lock eyes. “Please.”

  “Okay. I will. I tend to do that when I get frazzled. No more apologies.”

  “Good.” Cole smiled and released her. “Can I help you with anything before I get started? Anything I can do to take the frazzled edge off?”

  “Honestly? I think listening to your music will do just that. So go on, get set up and start serenading all of us with your seriously impressive singing skills.”

  11

  Sophie

  SOPHIE WAS DELIGHTED to see the turnout. For the first hour after the market opened, there was a steady flow of customers trickling through. By five-thirty, that trickle had turned into a rush. This was usually the case. Most shoppers would stop by the market after their long workday, sometimes to pick up items to prepare a meal back home, other times to make a meal of the fresh fruits and vegetables
they sampled as they meandered from tent to tent.

  Sophie loved seeing canvas tote bags bursting at the seams with market purchases. There was a comforting hum of conversation. It was like a hive of honey bees, that consistent white-noise buzz enveloping the entire space. As she walked the rows, Sophie noted the many smiles, handshakes, and hugs exchanged as shoppers reconnected with their favorite vendors. This was her favorite part of all. Connection. This was where their small town truly became a community.

  “Soph!” Veronica Smithson peered over the heads of several customers lingering at her booth, beckoning Sophie to her flower stand with a smile and wave. “Come check out the Queen Orange Lime zinnias! They’re fabulous! You planted some this year, didn’t you, doll?”

  Sophie strode over to her friend’s display. It was an attractive presentation of Mason jars with clusters of flowers and greenery. Sophie and Veronica had been friends for several years and often traded varietals when their own gardens lacked what they needed for a project or customer. They had even collaborated on a few weddings and baby showers in the past. It was a friendship grown from shared interests and talent and Sophie was so grateful for it.

  “These are beautiful, Ver!” Sophie pulled the slender stalk from Veronica’s hand and twirled it between her fingertips. The flower spun like a pinwheel. “Mine are just now beginning to bloom. Did you start these in your greenhouse?”

  “You bet I did. First year doing so, actually. Truth be told, I think zinnias are plenty hardy and grow so well in our climate that I would’ve been just as successful direct seeding them again. Gotta admit, though, it sure is nice getting a few weeks’ head start.”

  Sophie looked down at the flower and admired the intricate blend of colors into one thoughtful design, like watercolors spread on the petals. “I do envy you in that way. It’s a dream of mine to have a greenhouse and get a jump on the season. But it’s probably good that I don’t have any flowers to sell yet. Starting up the market always seems to take all of my energy. Give me a few weeks, though. I’ll be right out here with you. Up for a little friendly flower competition again this year?”