That broke the tension. Even Astrid was giggling.
“I’m only saying what we’re all thinking.” Auntie Mags was smiling. “Now, you girls need to get on the road if you’re going to get set up before nine.”
“We’ll do our best,” Astrid said. “But it won’t be the same without you, Aunt Camellia. You’re the one with all the answers. And people love you.”
“You be your charming self and you’ll be just fine. Don’t forget the honey ham stuffed biscuits I made for your lunch.” Aunt Camellia handed her the plastic container full of biscuits and patted Astrid’s cheek. “Dr. Abraham is giving me the whole morning.”
“He’s not giving you a thing,” Auntie Mags argued. “It’s not like he’s coming togiveyour menagerie of animals their health checks for free. You do pay the man for his veterinary services. And well, I might add.”
Aunt Camellia started her defense of her animals with the dogs—listing off an endearing trait for her one-eyed Chihuahua, Butters; Oatmeal the Saint Bernard; the shaggy mutt, Pudding; and the super-hyper red-and-white-patched pups, Ginger and Pepper. Before she moved on to the cats or livestock, Tansy called out a goodbye. She carried the tub of soap out to the waiting van, loaded it, then closed and locked the back doors. Nicole followed with the box of breakfast pastries and climbed in the back seat. Astrid pulled the back door around, the sound of the aunties’ voices muffled, and shook her head.
“Still at it?” Tansy asked.
“Of course.” Astrid giggled. “Poor Dr. Abraham.”
It was a little after seven when they arrived, and parking was already a challenge. Then came the least fun part of the day: setup. Three women, three carts stacked high, rattling down the paver-lined walkway toward their designated canopy. Tansy led, the rattle of glass honey jars faint amidst the commotion of several hundred vendors setting up. It was a solid hour before the farmer’s market opened, but the grounds were already packed. Nicole was right, they’d sell out in no time.
But her gaze caught, and held, on the booth directly opposite theirs. Texas Viking Honey’s black-and-gold logo was impossible to miss.Seriously?She sighed. Maybe he wouldn’t be here. Maybe. Hopefully they’d sell out.And fast.
“Viking Knudson is looking exceptionally Viking-y this morning,” Nicole said.
Of course, he’s here. Tansy didn’t look. If she ignored him, he couldn’t ruin her day.
“Beekeeper by day. Weight lifter by night?” Nicole sighed. “I know we’re not Knudson fans but it’s sort of hard not to appreciate that view.”
“He is handsome,” Astrid murmured.
“And he knows it,” Tansy reminded them—even as her gaze wandered to the Texas Viking Honey canopy.Oh...dear. He was lookingexceptionallymanly. And rather, well, Viking-like. His long blond hair was down, the sides pulled back and into a braid. But it wasn’t the hair. It was the shirt. Rather, thecheststretching the shirt to its limits. “Should we keep an eye on him? Make sure he doesn’t fall over from blood loss?”
Nicole was all but drooling. “Blood loss?”
“The shirt.” Tansy nodded. “It’s tight. Like cut-off-the-circulation tight.”
Astrid frowned, eyeing Dane Knudson’s especially impressive biceps. “Can that happen?”
“Maybe we’ll find out today.” Tansy allowed herself one minute to look at him. All of him. The shirt was a little—okay, a lot—tight. People would notice. That was the whole point. “He’s just doing what he always does.” She began unloading the carefully packed wooden crate—arranging each Honey Hill jar with care.
“Mesmerize shoppers with his Thor-like physique, glorious hair and pale blue eyes?” Astrid asked.
“Yes.” Dane’s ridiculous good looks were definitely a draw on days like today. The Pearl district was already a hot spot. Add this morning’s city of tents and canopies full of produce, crafts, homemade and cottage-industry goods, and Texas Viking Honey—with Dane Knudson in his skintight Texas Viking Honey shirt—would have a long line. “Exactly.”
“Is that his little brother? I haven’t seen him in a while,” Astrid asked, her brows high. “He looks like a mini-Dane.”
“Poor kid.” Even from here, Tansy could see how not-thrilled mini-Dane was to be here.
“Poor kid? I don’t know about that.” Nicole twirled a strand of hair around her finger. “From what Benji says, Leif more than looks like his big brother. He’s just as insufferable as Dane was in high school, too.” Benji was Nicole’s teen son—who she’d had when she was barely a teen herself. They were super close and Nicole was prone to go all momma bear if she felt like her boy needed protecting. Benji was sweet, shy and awkward, the kind of kid mini-Dane would probably badger relentlessly.
“My vote?” Tansy turned her back on the Texas Viking Honey canopy and the Viking manning the tent. “Let’s pretend they’re not here—at all. Let’s enjoy the day and sell things and have fun. Okay?”
Astrid worked her magic with the display, making everything look its best. They assembled the wooden beehive display, separating the jars onto shelves of wildflower honey, cream-honey, home-churned honey butter, and mesquite honey. Astrid stood back and nodded with satisfaction. “That should catch the eye.”
“And if the honey doesn’t, you will,” Nicole laughed. “Seriously, a guy just tripped over his own feet staring at you.”
Tansy smiled. It was true. Dane Knudson might be an added draw for Texas Viking Honey but Astrid was just as attractive—in a sweet, non-cocky, welcoming sort of way. And unlike Dane, her sister had no idea how lovely she was. Astrid didn’t need to resort to wearing skintight shirts for attention.
DANEHADTOADMIT, Tansy Hill was quite the salesperson. It was all in the smile. He’d never seen that smile directed his way. It was...distracting.
“Dane.” Leif elbowed him. “They have questions.”
