Page 26 of Love Bites

“The details of the petals are incredible,” I said as I held one up to inspect it. “I’d like to buy both of them please.”

He bit the inside of his cheek. I could see the wheels spinning. It occurred to me that this man seemed more possessive of Haider than the other two mama hens clucking around the local candymaker. Could he be jealous? I could only assume that Haider had discussed us with his lifelong friends. Did he mention our night of passion? If so, was this handsome artisan feeling envious?

“They’re a hundred dollars each,” Ryan said as a polka band began to play on the bandstand by city hall. The beat and tempo reminded me of home. I paid the man in American currency and smiled warmly as he carefully pulled out tissue paper and small gift bags. “Oh, no need to wrap them. I will present them to their intended recipients shortly.” His brows dropped into aVbut he handed them over. “Thank you. It’s nice to see such craftsmanship thriving in this community. Continue the good work.”

“Uh-huh,” he grunted as he studied me closely. You’d think a rabid badger was standing in front of him dressed in thin tan chinos, a raspberry polo, and white sneakers. as opposed to a pleasant man. Someday I would have to figure out how to win them over, that is if I could win over the slim man with the auburn curls. First things first as they say.

“Happy Founders Day,” I tacked on then moved into the crowds. Adults and children packed the street, which had been closed down from one red light to the other. A parade had come through earlier, filled with local high school bands, the fire company engines plus an antique fire engine that was quite the draw, and a pet parade led by the mayor who walked alongside his Yorkie. The stalls were busy, the smells of various foods from fried onions to cotton candy wafted past, luring people to various food trucks parked along the curb.

“Would you like me to take our purchases back to the car?” Edgar asked ten minutes later as I finalized a purchase of a beautifully bound leather journal. I did love to jot things down in a notebook. This one had detailed carvings of trees.

“Please, yes, thank you.” He had quite the armful. “I’m going to buy some chocolate now.”

His eyebrows rose but he said nothing. He knew my plans. “Very good. I’ll be back shortly.” We’d parked several blocks away at a church asking ten dollars per car to park. A fair price I felt. Once Edgar was off with our packages, I took a moment to pull up all the charm I possessed before I made my way to the Harmony Chocolates stall. Bright blue eyes followed me as I neared. A fizzle of attraction bloomed in my chest. Haider, Crocus, and Capucine watched me close the distance; each face etched with a different expression. Crocus seemed wary, Capucine seemed pleased, and Haider appeared to be on the verge of bolting at the slightest provocation.

“Good day Harmony Chocolates,” I said as I stepped up to the table. The displays were quite nicely done, I could see Capucine’s touch in the delicacy of the candy placement. The French have an eye for fashionable table settings.

“Bon jour, Herr Brauning,” Capucine replied then fluttered a hand to her throat as I presented her with a wooden rose. “How lovely, thank you.”

“A rose for a rose,” I cooed as I bowed ever so slightly. Then, with a smile that I hoped said how truly happy I was to see him, I offered the ash rose to Haider. He seemed torn. Then, as if he were reaching out to pluck a necklace off a rattlesnake’s neck, he lifted the stem from between my fingers. “And a flower for the most beautiful man on Main Street.”

Haider blushed the same shade of crimson as the red chocolate-covered cherries.

“Well, that is most charming,” Capucine said as Haider stood there gawking. “I find that I am parched. Herr Brauning, will you walk with me to the lemonade stand by the library?”

“Mamie, Crocus can get you something to—” Haider began.

Capucine stepped out of the booth, came round the stall, and took my arm.

“Make sure to include the coupons with each sale,” she called over her shoulder as she led me away from the man I had come here to speak with. Not that I would dare refuse the grand dame. She was a vision with her silver hair neatly curled and pinned, a summery dress of palest green, dark green sandals, and the yellow shawl I had gifted her with what seemed like years ago. “Now come. We will talk.”

I gave Haider one last look as I was pulled into the Founder’s Day crowds. He was gorgeous. Pale skin, curls playing in the wind, his mouth slightly open. I wanted to peel him out of that green apron and soft jeans then lay him down on a fluffy coverlet so I could lose myself in his perfection.

Capucine made small talk as we weaved through packs of children with balloons or noisemakers, dogs on leashes, and adults chatting while sipping wine slushies from the local vineyards stall. Once I had bought the lady her lemonade, and one for myself at her insistence, we found a seat on the village green facing the small fountain dedicated to World War I veterans. It was quieter here, cooler. Several couples wereseated in the shade, many elderly, smiling and sipping cool drinks as they enjoyed the antics of the children racing about the fountain.

“This is most refreshing if not a little too sweet,” Capucine commented in French.

I followed suit as my French was quite good even if my German inflections did linger on certain words. “I prefer mine with some tart myself,” I said as I sat back and crossed one leg over the other.

“Which explains why you are infatuated with my grandson,” she casually said as a honey bee moseyed past to visit a viburnum bush behind our bench. “Do not try to deny it. I see the admiration for him when you gaze upon him, and him for you. My Haider is not good at hiding his emotions. He has always been easily read.”

“A trait you do not possess,” I teased.

She smiled softly. “A trait that I learned to overcome at an early age. Young women who are too easily read by men are taken advantage of. Your grandfather the king toad can tell you such.”

Her smile faded. I turned on the bench, draping an arm on the back and bending my leg, so I could face her fully. My empty lemonade cup rested in my hand. Behind us were local artists and their paintings set up on the thick grass, easels with bright oils spread out everywhere.

“Capucine, what exactly took place between you and my grandfather?” I asked.

Her focus moved from the fountain to me, shrewd as ever, she looked into my eyes as if plumbing the depths of my soul.

“He has not told you?”

I shook my head.

She sighed.

“He’s only said that he dislikes you and wishes to see you broken.” Her slim silver eyebrow rose. “A fate that I do not wish to inflict on you, or Haider. Opa knows not of the offer that I have placed before Haider.”

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