Look Back at Me (Fleckney Fields Series, Book 1)

Golden Ticket

"Evening," Viola said.

"Hiya," he answered and moved into the room. "I'm delivering the supplies for the Market. Thought I'd stop by to say 'hi'."

"You saw me just a few hours ago," Viola pointed out - and made several slow steps towards him.

He shrugged and grinned. They met in the middle of the room. Some sort of an excited shiver tickled the back of Viola's neck, and she brushed her fingers to her nape. His gaze followed her movement, slid up her throat, and fell on her lips. Viola prohibited herself to think about the night of her unfortunate pub blunder. Realising she found her ex-husband attractive hadn't been that much of a surprise, no matter how shocking the intensity of her reaction to him had been. Allowing her sudden craving to dictate their relationship before they tried to establish any sort of an emotional connection would be simply short-sighted.

As always, all plans were the proverbial best laid plans, when it came to Rhys Holyoake. He slowly leaned in, picked up her hand, and pulled, making her step even closer. He then tilted his head, looking her over, and she saw a sly lopsided smirk curl up his lips. He affected her - and he knew it. Viola looked down, as if feeling shy, and then wrapped her fingers around his, scraped her nails on his palm, and slid her hand higher, snaking fingers into his sleeve, onto the sensitive skin of his wrist. She looked up. Not so smug now, are we? she thought in amusement. His eyes were narrowed, his jaw tense. She was pushing him, she knew that - but judging by how chaste their lunch had been, he intended to stick by the rules she'd outlined that day in her bedroom. Let's see how much reserve he's got.

"Teasing again?" he asked, his voice raspy.

She hummed, and tickled his wrist, in a much more innocent gesture now. "You can always take your hand away," she murmured and threw him another flirty look.

His lips opened, but she didn't get to hear his quip, because there was a small noise behind him.

"I'm sorry, I'm–" John said and paused. "Late," he finished, his gaze dancing between the two of them.

"Hey," Rhys grumbled, pulled away from Viola, and threw John a dark look over his shoulder.

"Hiya," John greeted him with a chuckle. "Freddy and Imogen weren't particularly cooperative tonight, so I got delayed. But I'm here now," he announced and grinned a toothy grin. "Evening, Viola."

Viola gave him a small wave. She then looked at Rhys and almost laughed at his tense posture and clenched jaw - and then he gave her an exasperated look. Something changed in his eyes, and he quickly leaned in and kissed her cheek.

"See you later," he said and turned to John. "The stands for the fair are late. I'll drop them off tomorrow."

"Perfect," John said.

Rhys gave Viola another look and left.

"Shall we?" Viola said nonchalantly, and walked to her laptop to turn on the music.

She heard John laugh behind her, and she pressed her lips stifling a giggle.

***

The Winter Market was held on Greville Square in Fleckney Woulds. Just as every year, almost every business in Fleckney had either a stall outside, or a table in the Oak and Shield. The air was filled with the aromas of Miss Rosa's baking, mulled wine, and Mrs. Tate's famous pretzels. Beautiful lights decorated the trees. The square looked festive and inviting.

At eight in the morning Viola took her spot inside the pub behind a small antique rosewood table, brought from the Nidhogg Hall for the 'vibe purposes' as Anders Bjornsson proclaimed with a booming laugh. She hardly had time to organise the tickets, the cash box, and her Square reader on her mobile, when her first customer popped up in front of her.