Willow

One of the biggest things I’ve learned about Blue Beech so far is real-life county fairs are nothing like the movies.

Dallas texted me this morning to remind me of the time he was picking me up and told me to have an appetite. The impulse to decline spilled through me, but the thought of experiencing something new prevented it.

I mean, who doesn’t want to find out what the fair hype is all about?

Dallas parks his truck in a grassy field converted into a parking lot. The amount of cars surprises me. This many people live here?

He helps Maven out of the truck before circling to my side. “Thank you for coming,” he says when he opens my door. He grabs my hand and assists me out of the lifted truck. “It’s all Maven’s been talking about today.”

I nervously laugh. “Guess it was time to pop my fair cherry.” I grimace at my word choice. No, Willow. No flirting with the widowed asshole.

He smirks. “Honored to be the one to do it.”

I nod, relieved he didn’t shut down on me but scared it’ll happen sometime tonight. Like me, Dallas is a pro at freezing people out at the snap of his fingers.

Maven is spinning in circles with her arms out in the air. Her hair is pulled back in two French braids that are finished off with furry pink bands holding each one in place. Did Dallas braid them for her?

I swing the strap of my cross-body bag over my shoulder while Dallas scoops Maven up and spins her around one last time. He takes her hand and leads us toward the flashing lights and white tents. When we hit the dusty pathway, I peek down at my feet, wishing I’d chosen different shoes. Everyone is in boots or sneakers while I’m sporting studded black flats that are going to be ruined by the end of the night.

“I want to ride that one!” Maven exclaims, pointing at rides as we make our way through the crowd. “Then, that one. And that one.”

“Dinner before rides,” Dallas replies, casting a glance my way. “What’s your fair poison?”

“My what?” I ask.

He peeks down at Maven with a smile. “This is Willow’s first time at the fair,” he explains, as if I were the only person who hadn’t done such a thing.

Maven giggles, her face lighting up. “Really?”

I nod, and she reaches out to connect her hand with mine. My chest tightens when I squeeze my hand around hers, a sadness sinking through me. We resemble the other families here—mom and dad treating their eager daughter to a night full of games, candy, and fun.

“My absolute favorites are elephant ears and cotton candy!” she says.

“Hey, I’ve had cotton candy,” I argue.

“But have you had fair cotton candy?” Dallas counters, causing Maven to burst out into more giggles. “Blue Beech cotton candy?”

I glance over at him. “Wasn’t aware there was a difference.”

His dark brows rise. “Oh, there most definitely is.”

We stop at a table underneath a blue tent, and Dallas insists on getting our food. Maven takes the seat next to me, her legs bouncing up and down in excitement.

“Did you know Daddy said I get to ride big-kid rides this year?” she asks with a burst of energy I wish I had every morning. “Last year, I wasn’t tall enough, but I’ve grown lots and lots!”

“No way!” I reply before holding my hand up in the air. “I had to wait until I was this big before I got to do that.”

Her head tilts to the side. “I thought you’d never been to a fair?”

Girl is smart for a six-year-old.

“I’ve been to Disney.”

She bounces in her seat. “Me, too! Mommy and Daddy took me for my birthday. I had lunch with Princess Jasmine!”

I place my hand over my heart and gasp. “Princess Jasmine? That’s so cool. Is she your favorite princess?”

She nods repeatedly. “Who’s yours?”

“Ariel.” I point to my hair. “Have to support my fellow redhead.”

“She’s my second favorite!” She claps her hands. “Maybe, next time, you can come with Daddy and me and meet Princess Jasmine!”

I nod timidly. “Yeah, maybe.”

Our conversation stops when Dallas gets to the table with drinks in his hands and plates lined up his arms, like an experienced waiter. I slide out of my seat to help him set everything down.

“Are you feeding the entire town?” I ask.

“I promised to give you the full fair experience,” he says, sitting down across from me. He points to the plates the same way Maven did with the rides. “Tenderloins are Maven’s and my favorite. I also grabbed some fried chicken, shish kebabs, and pizza in case you wanted to play it safe. Then, we have some elephant ears and cotton candy. Drinks are an option of a lemon shake-up, water, or soda.”

I snag a lemon shake-up. “So many healthy choices.”

He chuckles. “We’re splurging tonight.”

Maven sticks out her tongue. “It’s better than broccoli. Daddy makes me eat gross broccoli.”

Dallas points his fork at her. “Give a man some credit for adding cheese to it for you.”

Maven picks up a shish kebab and waves it through the air. “Not better than cotton candy! Pink is the best!” she sings out.

The nauseating smell of meat smacks me in the face, causing my stomach to churn, and she sets it back down on her plate. I close my hand over my nose and mouth—not only to block out the stench, but also to stop myself from vomiting in front of a crowd of people.

Dallas drops his sandwich. “Everything okay?”

“The meat,” I choke out underneath my hand, shaking my head. “None of that.”

He gets the hint, grabs it from Maven’s plate, and tosses it in the trash. “Sorry, honey,” he tells her. “Bad meat.”

She nods and moves on to a tenderloin.

I move my hand and take a deep breath, whispering, “Thank you,” to him.

His lips tilt up in a smile, a real one, something I haven’t seen from him since I’ve been here. My breathing hitches. My heart skitters.

“Any weird cravings yet?” he asks.

“Cupcakes. Cake. Brownies. Sugar in general.”

He laughs, another authentic one, making me happy I came. “I’ll remember that.”

My lips curve into a smile, meeting his, and I snack on a slice of cheese pizza while Maven takes over the conversation of how excited she is to leave for summer camp in a few days. She shoves her plate forward after the last bite and focuses on Dallas in determination that is too intense for a kid whose age hasn’t reached the double digits yet.

“Time for rides, Daddy!” she declares. “And don’t you forget, I get to ride the big-kid ones. No more kiddy zone for me.”

Dallas holds his hand up. “Hold it, youngster. Only the ones you meet the height requirement for, remember?”

“Is she trying to talk you into letting her bungee jump again?”

Hudson’s voice catches me off guard, and I turn around to see him and Stella coming our way. The sight of her eases me. Hudson … not so much. I’m not sure how he feels about me. Stella insists he holds no grudges against me, but I don’t believe her.

“I’m not old enough for that yet,” Maven says.

“Or ever,” Dallas corrects. He stares down at Maven, shaking his head. “You, my dear child, are going to give me a heart attack before forty.”

“Hey, brother,” Hudson cuts in. “Which will be worse—the day she wants to bungee jump or date?”

“Dating,” Dallas answers without hesitation. “I will bungee jump at her side before I agree to dating.”

“Gross, I don’t want to date,” Maven chimes in with disgust.

Dallas taps the top of her head. “That’s my girl.”

“You want to ride roller coasters with me, Uncle Hudson?” Maven asks. “Willow is coming!”

Pregnancy and carnival rides don’t go together.

“Oh no,” I moan out. “I get motion sickness.”

I’m not sure when Dallas is going to break the news that she’s going to be a big sister, but I most certainly don’t want to be in attendance. Lord knows the questions she’ll have.

Maven’s smile morphs into a pout. “My mommy did, too, but she was always okay.”

I regret looking at Dallas at the mention of Lucy. His body goes still, and I’m confident his heart is beating faster than anyone on a roller coaster here. The lightness of our time together has been extinguished, a whirl of unease stepping through. He scratches his neck, and I notice a vein popping out from it.

“How about I go with you? I love roller coasters!” Stella quickly offers up, lying to the poor girl.

“Thank you,” I whisper to her while Maven waits for Dallas’s permission.

His eyes are vacant, his face cloaked with pain. He’s checked out.

“I’ll make sure the two of them stay out of trouble,” Hudson says. “You keep introducing Willow to coma-inducing foods and sell Blue Beech to her.”

Dallas pinches the bridge of his nose and nods. I grab my lemon shakeup and suck it down without even bothering to argue with Hudson about the “sell Blue Beech to her” comment. The thought of Dallas showing me around makes me queasier than the meat.

Stella grabs Maven’s hand, and the three of them take off through the pack of people. I’m struggling to find the right words. I want to console Dallas, but I’m not sure if it’s a good idea. It might push him away more.

Isn’t that what I wanted when I found out I was pregnant?

Now, I’m thriving for more from him.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve admired his love for Lucy. His commitment to her, even when half-dressed women threw themselves at him in hopes of seeing Stella.

Seeing their relationship made you believe in love again.

And that’s why I can’t get close to him.

He’ll never give me that.

You don’t get love like that twice in a lifetime.

You can’t awaken those emotions back out of a broken man.

I need to back off and quit trying to make strides with him that’ll only end up stomping on my heart when I’m forced to face the devastation that he’s just around me because I got knocked up by him.

I don’t realize I’m staring until his hollow eyes meet mine. His Adam’s apple bobs while he piles the plates on top of each other and disposes them into the trash.

He fraudulently smiles down at me. “You ready for your Blue Beech pitch?”

I grab a bag of cotton candy. “I’ll listen, but I’m not someone easily convinced.”

“Oh, Miss Andrews, I can be a very persuasive man.” He must’ve given himself a pep talk on his way to the trash because his excitement meter has risen a few notches.

I shove a handful of cotton candy into my mouth before getting up. We walk in silence, side by side, passing annoyed parents yelling at their children and people spending their paychecks on games that are scamming them.

Everyone stops and stares when we walk past them, like we’re the show animals. A few women have pulled out their phones to record us. We appear as platonic as it gets. Hell, maybe more like strangers, considering we’re not saying a word to each other.

No story here, people.

Don’t twist it into something it’s not.

Because it’s way more complicated than us having sex.

“How about a game?” Dallas asks, breaking my attention away from the crowd of women pointing our way.

I throw them a dirty grimace and set my eyes back on him.

We’ve stopped in front of a ring-toss game with giant animals hanging from the roof of the tent.

“The chances of me winning that small stuffed animal is one in a gazillion, and it will cost me a couple of hundred bucks. I’d rather save my money and buy a new handbag.” Or a crib.

“I like your style.” He laughs, shaking his head. “I’ve blown so much money on those stupid things. Lucy loved them.” He tilts his head toward the flashing lights and spinning rides. “Ferris wheel?”

“I see you live on the wild side.”

“Risky is my middle name. Be right back.”

I combatively stare at him while he jogs over to the ticket booth without waiting to hear my answer.

How do I tell him I’d rather blow my life savings on a game than be stuck in the air with him?

As bad as I want to, I can’t. It’s hard for me to give him shit when it looks like someone ran over his dog.

So, I wait in line.

He hands the bored attendant our tickets and helps me into the car. It’s cramped as we sit across from each other. I blush each time our knees brush in the tight space.

“You make a doctor’s appointment yet?” he asks when the wheel starts to move.

I sigh playfully. “This was your plan, huh? Get me hundreds of feet in the air, so I can’t bail when you ask me complicated questions?”

He holds his hand up, a smile cracking at his lips. It’s not as real as the one he gave me at the beginning of the night, but it’s better than the artificial one earlier. “Convenient timing, I swear.” He pauses, the smile still flickering at his lips. “Subconscious smart move on my part, considering your history of being a runner.”

His jeans rub against my bare leg when I situate myself on the metal seat. Like my flats, shorts weren’t the best fashion choice.

“Awkward conversations aren’t a favorite pastime of mine,” I mutter.

“You mean, making adult decisions aren’t?”

“I’m twenty-six.” I mentally slap myself. That’s my argument?

“Last time I checked, twenty-six was an adult.”

“I mean, I don’t have much experience in making adult decisions that don’t only impact my life.”

When I graduated from high school, I moved to LA for college and have lived my life without answering to anyone. I travel regularly for my job and don’t have to worry about anyone other than my boss controlling what I do. My personal decisions have never impacted anyone else’s life before.

“You’d better get over that shit fast. We’re about to be making some big decisions together,” he says.

My chest feels tight. I haven’t come to terms with having a long-term relationship with Dallas, and I don’t feel like diving into the reality of it now. “I haven’t made a doctor’s appointment yet. I have no idea where to go, but I’d prefer an office not close, considering the town doctor probably delivered you.” And Maven.

“That’s true.”

I throw my arms out. “Exactly!” Does it make me a sucky person that I don’t want the same doctor Lucy had? God, I sound like a jealous brat.

“Dr. Riley’s son recently graduated from med school and moved back to work at the practice. He said he’d see us on the low until you’re ready to tell people.”

On the low? Like I’m going to be pushing a royal baby out of me?

“You’re positive he won’t tell anyone?” I ask.

“Positive. I have plenty of dirt to easily blackmail him.”

“Good. Blackmail away. I’d rather not have any more attention brought to us.”

He chuckles and leans forward to scan the crowd below. “I take it, I wasn’t the only one noticing all the prying eyes?”

“Sure weren’t.”

“Ignore them. Something new will come up, and they’ll forget about us.”

“Doubt it. You’re like the bachelor of Blue Beech, and I’m sure they want you to give a rose to a local girl.”

“Other people don’t decide whom I spend my time with.”

They might not decide, but that doesn’t mean they won’t talk shit about it.

I point to my stomach. “In other news, I need to find more creative ways to hide this. I’m showing more, and I don’t want people to find out.”

“We’re having a baby, Willow. It’s eventually going to come out. You’re struggling with the reality of it, and that’s why I’m holding back on saying anything, but you’d better come to grips with it soon. I need to tell my daughter and parents before you go into labor.”

Dallas isn’t a bullshitter.

He shoots it to you straight. Been that way for as long as I’ve known him, which is something I’m not used to. The guys I date tend to be liars who whisper sweet nothings into your ear and then do the opposite. I’ve never had a guy … a man like Dallas.

He clears his throat. “And, since I have you hostage, I’d better ask the question that’s been bugging me.”

Oh God. What now?

“Tell me the truth. Why did you hide this from me?”

I look around. How long does it take for us to get back to the ground?

“Willow,” he says, practically growling my name. “Give me a clear answer, not something half-assed. I want real. The truth.”

I lean in and take a deep breath. Here goes. He wants it. I’ll give it. He’s not going to like it.

“I remember every second of our night together.” My pulse races like a freight train is about to hit me. “You made me feel special, like I could have someone other than a cheating scumbag. You made me feel alive.” Am I really going to do this? I want to sound strong, but my voice cracks. “At least temporarily.” I stop to inhale another breath, chickening out.

“What happened that makes you question our night wasn’t special?”

His gaze is fixed on me, intense, and he settles his elbow on his knee. His free hand rests on my thigh.

“You called me her.”

I thought I had his attention before, but my admission kicked it into overdrive.

His head jerks to the side. “What?”

“You called me her … Lucy.” Tears bite at my eyes, breaking the hold I’ve been trying to keep. There. I said it. I gave him the truth.

His face contorts with a mix of pain and disbelief. “What? No way. You’re lying.”

“I’m not lying.”

I regret it every day. Regret not slapping him in the face or screaming when it happened, but I couldn’t blame him. I couldn’t blame him because my intention of having sex with him was the same—to forget the person I longed for. I wanted to erase Brett. He tried to erase Lucy.

He scrubs his hand over his face. I’ve spent the last decade reading a man who lied for years, and Dallas isn’t lying about not remembering.

He scoots in closer to clasp my chin in his hand. “Fuck, Willow. I’m sorry. No wonder you hate my fucking guts and can barely stand to look at me. I’m sorry. God, I’m an asshole.”

He runs his hand over my cheek while apologizing repeatedly. I draw in the trace of cotton candy and cinnamon on his breath.

The end of our ride is getting closer, and I wish I had a panic button to freeze us in place.

“You’re the only woman I’ve kissed other than Lucy,” he says, his lips inches from mine. “The only woman I’ve touched. The only woman I’ve ever had in my bed.”

I relax into his touch, into his words. Should this admission turn me on? Should it make me want to straddle him and get a public indecency arrest?

“And it’s not for lack of trying,” he goes on. “This will make me sound like an arrogant jerk, but I’ve had women knocking on my door daily, but I’ve never given them a second look. Replacing Lucy with a quick fuck wasn’t my intention. I could’ve done that with anyone. I might’ve said her name, but I swear to you, I knew who I was inside of, and it wasn’t her.”

I breathe heavily and take in the callous palm roaming over my cheek.

“We were both missing other people that night. We can agree on that.”

I nod at the truth. “What do you want from me?” I whisper, my lips nearly hitting his.

“I want you to move here permanently. I want you to raise our baby here. I don’t want you to leave.”

His eyes soften, and I dart my tongue over my lips without even realizing it.

God, the desperation of wanting to kiss him, of wanting to screw him, of wanting his touch anywhere on my body is all I’m feeling right now.

“What do you want from me, Willow?”

To wrap my hand around your cock again. To feel you inside me one last time. To love me like you loved her.

“I … I don’t know,” I answer breathlessly. I can’t concentrate on anything but us.

He takes in a sharp breath. “Why can’t I stop thinking about you?”

I make my move, unable to stop myself, and crash my lips against his. He tastes more like cotton candy than he smells. He groans while moving his hand from my face to the back of my neck, diving into my hair and drawing me in closer, opening his mouth so that our tongues meet.

His mouth is soft and forbidden. Him only kissing me is going to send me over the edge. He scoots in closer to use his knee to separate my legs more and slides his hand up my thigh, stopping where my shorts end.

“What are you doing to me?” he mutters, taking me deeper into his mouth and inching his hand underneath the fabric, his fingers spreading apart.

I moan and tilt my hips up, permitting him to keep going. His fingers crawl to my middle, right over my panties, and he rubs his thumb across it.

“Fuck,” he groans. “You’re soaked.”

I close my eyes as he moves my panties to the side.

“Okay, who’s next in line?” the operator yells.

Dallas’s hand disappears in seconds, and his back hits the seat, his breathing labored. “Fuck. I’m sorry. That shouldn’t have happened.”

I straighten my shorts, rub my hands over my hair to fix it, and curl my arms around my stomach. No doubt I would smack him in the face if we weren’t in a public place.

“You’re right. It won’t happen again,” I whisper.

The operator winks at us when the car stops, and we get out.

“It happens all the time, man,” he says, smirking. “Figured you wouldn’t want to keep up your show in front of everyone.”

Oh, hell. He saw us.

I stumble forward, my legs feeling weak, and Dallas rests his hand on the small of my back to stabilize me. We’re back to silence, like he didn’t have his hand in my shorts only minutes ago, like he wasn’t about to get me off in a Ferris wheel car. He guides us straight to Stella, who’s waiting on Hudson and Maven to finish up a ride.

Our conversation ends.

Our connection ends.

My hope for him ever touching me again ends.

I can’t get attached. I can’t let Dallas Barnes in again.

In my head. In my vagina. In my heart.