By the time the afternoon sun began to soften, they'd made their way back into town — shoes still damp from the lake, laughter lingering in every glance.
Emma insisted on stopping at the little bookstore tucked behind the post office, claiming she needed "artistic inspiration." Hannah followed, half amused, half curious.
Inside, the air was cool and smelled of paper and dust. Sunlight poured through the tall front windows, cutting the space into neat squares of gold.
Emma wandered the aisles like a child in a candy shop, stopping every few steps to pull out a book, read a line, and grin. Hannah leaned against the end of a shelf, watching her with an affection that felt almost too big for her chest.
"You do realize you've opened five books and finished none," Hannah teased.
"Sampling," Emma said, flipping another page. "You have to taste-test stories before committing."
"That's not how libraries work."
"It's a bookstore," Emma shot back, eyes twinkling. "You're supposed to browse irresponsibly."
They lingered there until the owner turned on the overhead lights, signaling the day's end. When they stepped back outside, the world was bathed in amber — the golden hour when everything looked softer, almost forgiving.
They walked home slowly, sharing a bag of roasted almonds from a corner vendor, bumping shoulders with each uneven step.
At Hannah's place, they kicked off their shoes again, settling onto the porch swing with glasses of lemonade. The air was warm and lazy, the kind of quiet that made conversation optional.
Emma leaned her head on Hannah's shoulder. "You know, I think this might be my favorite day so far."
"Because of the market?" Hannah asked.
"Because of you."
Hannah smiled, tracing lazy circles on Emma's hand with her thumb. "Then we'll just have to make tomorrow better."
Emma tilted her head back, eyes half-closed in the fading light. "You think that's possible?"
Hannah looked at her, sunlight catching in her hair, and thought — yes.
"Yes," she said softly. "I really do."
The porch creaked gently beneath them, the world turning gold, then lavender, then quiet.