“Please.”
“You need to get a job,” I said, and eyed the silver anklet Lottie had just held up to the sun like it was treasure.
Lottie rolled her eyes. “Just as soon as I get my license.”
I pursed my lips with my arms crossed over my chest. “I’ll buy you the anklet if you don’t get your license until you’re twenty.”
Lottie snorted and put the anklet back on the rack. “I don’t really need it.”
Damn.
I glanced at her as she wandered to the next stall, then reached out and plucked the anklet from the rack. While she admired handmade soaps a table over, I paid the vendor and tucked the little bag into my pocket.
Lottie was already halfway to the next tent by the time I caught up.
“I’m going to get my license, Mom,” she said as she fingered a crocheted turtle in shades of sage green and cream at the next booth.
“I know,” I murmured, but I could feel the tug behind my ribs.
We were at the Mt. Pleasant Farmers Market, and so far it had not disappointed. We’d already been back to the car once to unload the mountain of produce we’d bought, and now we were hauling two more bags apiece. Every stall we passed had something we didn’t know we wanted until we saw it—fresh pastries, handmade jewelry, potted succulents in coffee mugs, and now, apparently, the cutest crocheted animals I’d ever laid eyes on.
“I’ll buy you the turtle,” I offered, “and you can still get your license.”
Lottie turned toward me, already mid-eye-roll, ready to scold me for bribing her again. But then she paused and blinked like she’d misheard me.
“Really?”
I nodded. “Yeah.”
I was trying. I really was. She was growing up whether I liked it or not, and pushing against it wasn’t doing either of us any favors. She deserved her freedom—her license, her nights with friends—and I needed to let go… a little.
“Can I get the same deal?”
The voice came from behind us, and Lottie and I both turned. A woman with shoulder-length dark hair and a mischievous grin stood beside us, eyes sparkling with amusement.
“I want the snail, dog, cat, dolphin, and the T-Rex,” she said as she counted each one with a finger. “Pretty sure Aero’s not going to be cool with that many.”
“Can I get that many?” Lottie asked, eyes wide and hopeful.
I laughed and shook my head. “The turtle or nothing.”
The woman laughed too. “Fair.”
I nodded toward her. “And you might want to butter up your husband before you bring home a whole zoo.”
Before she could answer, a tall man joined her—jeans, dark tee, tattoos, and a worn leather cut with patches on the front and back. My heart dropped into my stomach.
Iron Fiends.
The name patch readAero.
He was one of Dice’s brothers.
My breath caught. I swallowed it down and tried to keep my face neutral.
“One, Sloane,” he said, eyeing the table full of crochet chaos.
Sloane wrinkled her nose. “Three.”