Page 98 of Riding the Sugar High

“On the other hand,” I mumble, “providing options that vegans struggle to find elsewhere would have them flocking to your market.”

Waving at someone behind me, he chuckles. “I’ve been running this place for twenty years. I don’t think I need advice from a little girl.” He takes a step to the side. “Anyway?—”

“Would you take the advice of someone with two million followers?” He stops in his tracks, his amused smile dissipating. “Would you take a shoutout? A nice video of your market?”

“You have that kind of audience?”

Ignoring his tone, I nod, and I can almost see the moment in which, in his mind, I’m no longersweetheartor alittle girl.

“And you’d do that?”

“I would love to tell my followers about an inclusive and welcoming market.” With my lips lifting slightly, I insist, “Can I tell them that, though?”

Rubbing his beard, he looks away, pondering. “I guess...I guess Logan can have the table permanently. Provided he pays on time and doesn’t cause problems.”

“He would never.”

“I don’t think you know him very well.”

I step back, determined to walk away before he can change his mind. “I’ll ensure my audience knows how much I love your market. And Logan will be here—every week.”

With a stern nod, he watches me walk away until I turn around and reach Logan’s side.

“All good?”

“Yep. Actually, Charles would like to offer you a permanent spot.”

His eyes pierce mine. “Why would he do that?”

With a shrug, I look away. The last time I tried to help out his farm, he got angry, and I don’t want to ruin the flirty mood between us. “I don’t know. Maybe he realized introducing a vegan supplier at the market could attract a new crowd.”

“Really? He got to that conclusion all by himself?”

I throw him a casual glance. “Yep.”

He says nothing for a long moment, then he shocks me by pressing his lips to the top of my head. “Thank you.”

Oh. This is new. And I like it. Like it a lot.

His strong arms envelop me as he hugs me from behind, my fingers briefly tracing the shape of his tattoos. It’s like now that I’ve given him permission to kiss me as he pleases for the next six days, he plans to take advantage of every single moment. Not that I’m complaining.

But I slide out of his arm and take my list out. With a happy grin, I strike through number twenty, then show it to him.

“Let me help him.” He winks. “Don’t get used to it, Barbie.”

“Of course.”

“Fuck,” he grumbles as he tugs at my arm and pulls me behind him. He says his next words from the corner of his mouth. “Don’t speak, okay? I’ll tell them you’re indisposed, and?—”

“Hello.”

My muscles stiffen as I recognize Josie’s voice and I peek past Logan. She and Connor stand in front of our stall in their uniforms, and stomach turning into a knot, I cling to Logan’s shirt.

“Hello, officers,” Logan says. “How can I help you?”

“We were hoping to talk to Primrose.”

Oh, shit.