“I wouldn’t do that,” I said, tugging my hand back as I turned to face Hunnie. “I’d never share secrets. I don’t even get involved in the baking other than what I eat. That’s Roderick’s area. Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt you two. I was just going to tell you I’d wander around and be back when you were finished.”
“Sounds good,” she said, believing me.
I chalked up her carefree attitude to Vermont exuberance. It’s as if the water had happy pills in it . . . except when it came to Ben. He was chipper, and then not so nice, and then happy again before becoming all-out cunning.
What was it with him? He never used to be this way. Yeah, at Pressman he labeled himself as an outsider and everyone treated him as such, but he was back home now in his beloved Vermont.
“That’s a good idea. Let’s wander.” Ben grabbed my elbow and led me away from Hunnie to walk next to him. Lowering his voice, he said sharply, “What in the world are you doing, walking around the farmers’ market like you belong here? Shopping for . . . what are you shopping for?” He stopped in his tracks and stared me down.
“What are you doing?” I hissed out the words but yet forced a smile, never one to make a scene.
“Tell me something. What are you doing?” He tossed my question back at me. “Working as a barista, then moonlighting as an intern for Hunnie? You graduated from an Ivy League college in Manhattan and your family has more connections than God. Are you mocking our small-town life here? Is that what you’re doing, making fun of us? Getting some sick revenge?”
His mouth tightened as he spoke, and he looked like he was gasping for air. He faced me, his feet planted and his eyes staring me down, daring me to cop to his accusation.
I pulled in a calming breath. “No, I’m not mocking a thing. I meant it when I told you how you spoke so highly of it here, I decided to give it a try. I needed a fresh perspective. I swear. My family wasn’t happy with that choice either, so they’re keeping their distance from my life,” I said, giving him the same story I’d been telling anyone who asked.
“That’s stupid. They’re disappointed over you being in Vermont? No one would ever feel that way. That’s not even normal. Then again, I forgot how abnormal the world was that you grew up in. So abnormal, I was barely allowed to participate in it.”
Swallowing my pride, I shoved one hand in my pocket and stood my ground, which wasn’t easy with an angry, smoking-hot Ben looming over me.
“Is that what this is about?” I said. “Pressman? And you and me? Seriously, we’re all grown up now.” How I’d treated him still haunted me, so he had to remember what a little bitch I’d been.
“That has to be a joke.” He glared at me. “Who cares about Pressman? This is about you being here, now. Vermont is a modern-day state, I’ll have you know. Right here, where I’m standing, is an everyday city. It may not have the glitz and glamour of New York City, but it’s home. We even have running water.”
Agitated, he ran his hand through his hair, and I took all of him in. It was unsettling how gorgeous he was, how smart and extremely wise. My mind rambled. It’s crazy how he sees through my excuses.
“Whatever,” I said with a shrug. “I’m here and I’m trying, okay? I’m not mocking anyone, and I happen to like it here. This place is speaking to my soul. Think of this as a rebirth.”
Ben scowled at me. “You’re joking.”
Pulling my hand out of my pocket, I mentally chastised myself for nervously wringing my hands. “I. Am. Not. Joking. I’m here to buy some things for my apartment,” I said, defending my right to be at the farmers’ market. Which was absurd.
Ben’s stiff posture seemed to relax. “If so, did you hit up my family’s booth? Get your syrup fix yet?”
I shook my head. “No, I just got here. I was talking to Hunnie, taking care of that first.”
“Come on. I came to see if my mom was here. I need to drop off a prescription from a colleague for her migraines.” He took my hand again, this time less roughly but still firmly. This Ben—adult Ben—was in charge.
All of a sudden, I wanted to cut and run. “No, I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’m wearing white shorts, and Hunnie says that’s a bad thing around here.” I scanned around us, desperately looking for someone else daring to wear white.
“Who is Hunnie, the fashion police? Last time I checked, she ran a hippie-dippie honey-infusion bullshit business and wants to do goat yoga on the side, taking my dad along for the ride.” Ben spoke while taking two or three big strides and then stopped to look at me again. His gaze burned through me, searching for the truth.
“Goat yoga? She didn’t mention that, but it would make for amazing publicity.” A million images spun through my head, mostly of Hunnie in her braids, leaning over and kissing a goat.
“It doesn’t matter what Hunnie mentioned,” Ben said. “I know how her head works. She’ll jump from one crazy thing to another. She’s another one who’s never happy with the status quo and has to constantly be trying out something new. Not that it’s bad, but my family has a good thing going on here, and it doesn’t need to change.”
“Do you have a thing with her?” I asked. “Is that why you’re making fun of her? I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk so poorly about someone, Ben Rooney. Other than me.” My mouth snapped shut as soon as I heard the words spilling out of me.
“Hunnie?” Ben gave me a confused look. “Uh, no. We grew up together. You
