“Sophia!” Juniper protested, her cheeks burning despite the cold. “It’s not… we’re not…”

But before she could finish her denial, she caught sight of a familiar figure across the square. Daniel was making his way through the crowd, his tall frame easy to spot towering above the festival-goers. He was wearing a charcoal peacoat, a look that both woman hadn’t seen him hold before.

He spotted them and changed course, heading in their direction. With each step he took, Juniper remained poised, remembering how he’d looked at her during the storm, how his touch had sent electricity racing throughout her.

“Ladies,” he greeted them, his voice carrying that hint of warmth that seemed reserved just for their little group. “I should have known you’d find the best spot.”