The Man at the Farmers Market

The sun had barely risen over Willow Creek when Brielle Hartley turned onto Main Street, windows down, hair whipping in the breeze like she was starring in her own movie. She’d been back in town for exactly twelve hours, and already she could tell one thing hadn’t changed:

Willow Creek was too small for big dreams and too small to avoid running into the wrong people.

Which is why she was power walking through the Saturday farmers market like someone had lit her sneakers on fire. She wasn’t running from danger. She wasn’t running from her past.

She was running from a man.

A very tall, very broad, very irritating man.

She caught a flash of him between booths: dark hair, sun tanned skin, a gray T-shirt stretched across shoulders that, honestly, should’ve been illegal. He was leaning over a crate of peaches, talking to the old farmer like they were best friends.

Brielle muttered under her breath, “Of course he’s here.”

Jaxon Reed.

Small town golden boy.

Local heartbreaker.

The reason she left Willow Creek after senior year and swore she’d never look back.

And now because her mother twisted her arm she was back.

She ducked behind a stand selling lavender honey, pretending to study the jars while her pulse raced faster than it should. It had been seven years. Seven years of distance, growth, and therapy level journaling. Surely she was an adult now. Surely she could handle seeing him.

“Morning, Brie.”

She froze.

That voice. Deep. Smooth. Infuriating.

She slowly turned, forcing a polite smile. “Hi, Jaxon.”

He stood there holding a carton of peaches, looking exactly like the problem she remembered: tall, all lean muscle, the kind of jawline sculptor’s dream about, and eyes too blue to be allowed on public property.

His gaze swept over her once quick, assessing, way too familiar and her stomach did a traitorous little flip she immediately ignored.

“You’re back,” he said, sounding far too pleased with himself.

“Just for a little,” she lied automatically. She was actually moving back for a year to help her mom recover from knee surgery but Jaxon Reed didn’t need her life story.

“What brings you to the finest farmers market in the county?” he asked, leaning one arm on the honey table like he had all day to annoy her.

She crossed her arms. “Trying to enjoy the morning. You’re ruining it.”

He grinned, slow and cocky. “Ah. Same Brie as always.”

“And you’re the same Jaxon,” she shot back. “Loud, overconfident, in everyone’s way.”

“Good to know I’m memorable.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to.”

The nerve of this man.

She stepped aside, hoping he’d take the hint and walk away. But of course not. Jaxon fell into step beside her like they were old friends grabbing lattes.

“So,” he said casually, “how long are you in town for?”

“Not long.”

“You here with someone?”

“None of your business.”

“You always were terrible at small talk.”

She whipped her head toward him. “And you were always terrible at boundaries.”

That made him laugh soft, warm, annoyingly charming. And she hated that her body remembered that sound. Hated that a part of her wanted to hear it again.

She focused on a nearby stand selling fresh baked cinnamon rolls. Distraction. Sugar. Yes.

She moved toward it, but Jaxon followed.

“Still running away from things?” he asked, voice quieter now.

She stopped cold. Turned. Stared him down.

“Still making assumptions?” she replied.

They were too close close enough that she could smell him. Fresh soap. Cedar. A hint of the peaches he’d been picking over. It hit her hard enough to make her swallow.

His eyes flickered, just for a second, from her eyes to her mouth, then back.

She felt it like electricity down her spine.

No.

Nope.

Absolutely not.

She took a step back. “Well, this has been… something. But I actually have errands to run, so”

“You’re avoiding me.”

“I’m avoiding a headache.”

“So yes, you’re avoiding me.”

She glared at him. “Don’t you have a barn to fix or a tractor to pose with?”

He laughed again richer this time.

“For your information, I’m restoring the old community garden. Volunteering. Doing good for the town.” He gave her a pointed look. “You know, in case you wanted to pitch in while you’re here.”

She blinked.

Jaxon Reed Mr. High School Trouble was volunteering?

She didn’t buy it.

“Right,” she said. “And I’m sure you’re doing it all out of the goodness of your heart.”

“Maybe I am.”

“Maybe you’re lying.”

He leaned just a bit closer. “Why? You think I haven’t changed?”

Her breath hitched before she could catch it.

He’d changed physically bigger, broader, more… everything. But emotionally? Personality wise? Temper? The ability to not drive her insane?

“I think you’re the same guy who teased me every day of senior year,” she said. “And I’m not interested in repeating history.”

He opened his mouth to respond

“Jaxon! I need you for a sec!”

It was the honey vendor, waving him back with a frantic gesture.

Jaxon lifted a brow at Brielle. “Saved by the lavender.”

She pointed a finger at him. “Do not follow me.”

“No promises.”

He walked backward toward the vendor, still watching her, that infuriating smirk tugging at his mouth.

She hated that smirk.

She hated that it still did something to her heart rate.

As soon as he turned around, she exhaled sharply and practically speed walked across the market until she reached the safety of her car.

She sat there, gripping the steering wheel, willing her pulse to calm down.

Seeing him again shouldn't have affected her this much. He was just a guy. A guy who annoyed her. A guy she’d sworn off.

A guy who had just looked at her like he remembered everything too.

“Great,” she muttered. “This is going to be a nightmare.”

She started the engine, but before she could pull away, she saw him in the rearview mirror standing across the street, hands in his pockets, watching her car.

Not with a smirk.

Not with that “I win” expression.

Just watching.

Her chest tightened in a way she absolutely did not approve of.

She tore her gaze away and drove off.

---

Jaxon stood there until her car was out of sight.

He hadn’t expected her to be back. And when he first saw her hair a little longer, posture a little stronger, but still Brielle his heart had stuttered like it forgot how to beat.

He’d played it cool, sure. But the truth?

She had shaken him.

The girl he used to tease had returned as a woman who could cut him down with a single look and he liked it way too much.

He picked up a peach, tossing it in his hand as he watched the road she’d disappeared down.

“Well,” he murmured to himself with a slow, dangerous smile,

“this is about to get interesting.”