The sun hadn’t been up long enough to burn the dew off the grass, but the market was already alive with chatter and clinking jars. You weren’t even halfway through your usual circuit when you stopped at the honey stand. Glass jars caught the light like amber jewels, labeled with names like Meadow Gold and Heatherfire. You dipped a sample spoon into the darkest one—Blackberry Blossom—and let it trail a little too thickly across your thumb.

You cursed under your breath and instinctively brought it to your lips, tongue swiping the sweetness clean.

That’s when you noticed him.

Standing just off to the side—broad shoulders, sleeves rolled up, a touch of silver in his beard catching the morning light. His eyes tracked you with a heat that had nothing to do with the sun.

He stepped closer, voice a low, amused rasp. “Sweet tooth, have you?”

You looked up, licking the last of the honey from your lip. “You don’t? Hard not to indulge.”

His smile was subtle, but his gaze lingered. “Getting worse by the second.”

You laughed—quiet, caught. He stepped closer and nodded toward the jars. “That the wild lavender one?”

You held out the sample jar without thinking. He dipped a sample spoon in, slow and casual. Licked it off as the silence stretched.

He glanced at you, lips curved just slightly. “Might have to take home a jar.”

You blinked, not quite sure if he meant the honey.