Fuck it. I didn’t do nervous, but that night took the damn cake.

I strode up the sidewalk between my house and Rebecca’s, my heart beating a little too fast for comfort. This was the first date I’d had in years—since before my relationship with Tabitha had officially evolved into a total shitfest.

It would be public, too—a statement. I didn’t give a shit what any of the gossips in Stoneport thought about me, but Becca still cared, and if she cared, so did I.

I’m whipped. Not even a first date yet, and I’m officially whipped.

Finally, I reached her front gate and entered, walked up to the house, and noted the lights on upstairs and in the living room. I rang the doorbell then stood back, clutching the bouquet of flowers I’d handpicked in my front yard.

The door latch clacked, and Becca appeared a second later—an angel in a white cotton dress, tight-fitting around her breasts and waist, and sweeping the skin just above her knee.

Fuck. I was in serious trouble here.

I inhaled the scent of her, those rose petals, and presented her with the flowers. “Hi,” I said.

“Hi,” she replied and took them. “Thank you for these. Give me a sec to put them in water?”

“Sure.” I itched to grab her instead, toss the flowers aside, and walk her up the stairs and to her bedroom. Who cared about the date and the carnival? It could be just us. But no, I’d made a point of asking. I wanted this for her and for me.

Becca returned a couple minutes later, her short heels ringing on the boards in the entrance hall. Christ, she was breathtaking. She lifted her purse from the table then stepped up to me. “Ready?” she asked.

“Not yet,” I replied and drew her into an embrace. I planted a soft kiss on her lips, barely brushing my mouth against hers, then one on her cheek and another on her earlobe. “You look beautiful tonight.”

“I missed you,” she whispered back.

“Good.” I drew back but held her hand. “Let’s go have some fun.”

I guided her back down the path and toward the front gate, just fucking bathing in her presence and the fact that we were together.

Half an hour later, we pulled up in front of the carnival grounds and exchanged a glance.

“You all right?” I asked.

Becca sat back in the front seat, her gaze traveling from the striped ticket booth to the stalls beyond, and then to the Ferris wheel’s silhouette in the early evening sunlight. “Yeah, I’m all right. No, actually, I’m better than all right. Thanks for doing this, Mason.”

“I told you, angelface. Anything for you.” I cut the engine, slipped out of the Dodge, and made my way around to the passenger’s side to open up for her.

“Thanks,” she said and brushed off her dress. Her gaze traveled past me to the carnival activities again, and a small smile tugged at the corners of her lips. “So this is what a Stoneport Carnival looks like.” She lifted her nose to the air and sniffed. “Buttery popcorn, pretty lights, screams from the kids.”

“Yeah, pretty standard stuff,” I replied, “but you can bet there’s a stall selling jambalaya somewhere around here.”

“We’d better find that one, because I haven’t eaten all day.”

We made our way over to the ticket booth and bought two tickets, then entered beneath the cheerful banner which pronounced the Stoneport Carnival the best in the state. Finally we were inside, mingling among the exhausted parents who followed their kids from stall to stall, and the lovers both teenage and fully grown, wandering around starry-eyed.

I placed my hand on the small of Becca’s back, and she leaned into me, smiling again.

“I heard these carnival snacks are seriously bad for you,” she said, turning her head and snaring me with another of those perfect blue gazes. “Bad for your heart.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. But that’s still not going to stop me from trying that chicken jambalaya with a side of old school American fries,” she said, reading directly from the board next to a food stall.

We trekked over to it and took up a position in the long line—naturally, everybody wanted some jambalaya. If I hadn’t known better, I would’ve said it was the local cuisine that pumped through our veins rather than blood.

“This is nice,” Becca said and slipped her arm around my waist. “I’ll admit, I was kind of afraid of coming tonight.”

“Why?”

“You know, that whole ‘keeping it simple’ thing? I was worried that this was the opposite of that.” She rested her head on my chest, and I kissed the top of it, inhaling her shampoo and the natural scent of her hair. It was so totally her. A scent I could wake up for, just fucking live for.

“We’re still keeping it simple,” I replied. “We’re just enjoying ourselves.” And I’m simply falling for you. My stomach jolted at the thought, but I didn’t let it go. Fuck it, it was true. A couple weeks of this connection, and I was done. Stick a fork in me and all that crap.

“I enjoy every second I spend with you,” she said softly, as the line shifted forward a few feet.

The smells of cooking up ahead—the spiciness of sausage, shrimp, and chicken, the depth of flavor the dish obviously held—had my mouth on constant drool mode. I swallowed and grinned down at her. “Ditto, angel,” I said. “Man, I’m going to eat every bowl of jambalaya this place has.”

“Oh, look,” Becca said, pointing at the chalkboard beside it covered in quaint drawings of the dishes. “They’ve got hamburgers too. And hotdogs. But what are we going to eat afterward?”

“I think they have a cotton candy—” I cut off as the line shifted again, and two people peeled off from the front of it and walked back, holding Styrofoam containers of steaming food.

My stomach dropped and all thoughts of food—and how good Becca looked, and how perfect spending time with her felt—evaporated.

Perry and Tabitha strolled up to us, arm in arm.

Becca stiffened at my side and tightened her grip on me. “Let’s just go,” she whispered. “There are other food stalls. We don’t have to hang around at this one.”

But it was already too late for that. First, because I didn’t run from anyone. Never had and never would. Secondly, because fuckface and my ex-wife had already spotted me and made a beeline for us.

“It will be fine,” I said, but the words pushed out between gritted teeth. “Just stay calm.” That was more for my benefit than hers. I was already hot all over just at the sight of this asshole.

Perry and Tabitha halted beside us, both grinning broadly. Apparently, the other doctor’s swollen nose wouldn’t stop him from emoting his prickish behavior. “There’s the bitch I was telling you about, honey. The one who filed a false claim against me with the police? That’s her.”

“Mmm,” Tabitha said, shaking her head. “Some women will do anything to bring a good man down.”

“Fuck off, Perry.” The words were too loud. People in the line behind and ahead of us turned around and stared, many of them shaking their heads.

“Mason,” Becca whispered, “let’s just go. They’re not worth the trouble, OK? We’ll find another stall, and that will be it.” She tugged on my arm gently and set me in motion—guiding me away from the asshat abuser and my ex.

It was probably for the best. The last thing either of us needed was a scene, and Perry was just the guy to cause it.

“See? We’re good,” Becca said. “No need to hulk out on the guy.”

I couldn’t reply. All my energy was focused on restraining myself. If I turned back now, if I heard one more word out of Perry’s…

“That’s right, Dunn.” Jackson’s voice floated on the air, above the tinkle of carnival music and the laughter of kids and adults alike. “You walk away. Walk away like you always do. You know, for a military man, you’re not that tough.”

This motherfucker.

He thought I’d let him get away with this because he was in the middle of a crowded area.

“Ignore him, please,” Becca whispered.

“You’re so fucking done in this town, buddy,” Perry called out again. “You and your bitch. She chose the wrong target for her little slur campaign. You know she’s going to be fired, right? And after that, she’ll never work in Stoneport again.”

I halted mid-step. Becca tugged on my arm, but I couldn’t hear her over Perry’s words. They reverberated in my mind. Anger boiled beneath my skin, desperate for release.

“Just goes to show who the bigger man is,” Perry continued. “I win.”

It was the final straw—the comparison between us. In what world did this asshole think he was anything like me? He was a fake friend, a betrayer, an abuser.

I shook off Becca’s grip and slewed on the spot, the edges of my vision blurry. Perry was at the end of a tunnel, standing just behind the line, still grinning as if taunting me was the best fun he’d had in years.

“What you gonna do, big guy? In front of all these people? Huh? What are you going to do? Come on, just fucking hit me, and see what happens. I’ll sue your ass so fast your head will spin off your shoulders.”

I started walking toward him. Not walking, no—fucking striding, eating up the ground beneath my boots, and my fists wound tight, aching for a chance to hit him again. I’d break him this time. Snap him like a twig.

Blood rushed in my ears. My biceps tightened up, shoulders stiffened. Every muscle in my body was ready for this. There was Perry and only Perry. Nothing else.

“He’s not really going to do anything,” Perry said, glancing off to one side. “Don’t worry about it.”

I raised my fist and let out a feral roar.

Perry turned back just in time to witness it. Fear flashed through him, wiping the cocky smirk from his lips, at last. “No,” he said. “Stop.”

But I couldn’t stop. It was too fucking late. I whacked the container of food out of Jackson’s hand, then caught his collar and jerked him toward me. “Piece of shit,” I growled and drew my fist back. No punches pulled. I’d break his jaw.

Perry winced and raised both arms to shield his face, struggling against my grip. “Please,” he whimpered. “Please stop. I didn’t mean it. Please, Mason. Buddy, come on, it was just a bit of fun.”

I shifted my grip, raised him into the air, and tossed him away from me, breathing hard. “You’re pathetic,” I grunted.

Perry scrambled backward on all fours, blinking rapidly, silent.

I squeezed my eyes shut and let him go, struggling for control of myself, of this situation. Christ, I’d almost beaten the living shit out of him in front of everyone. In front of Rebecca.

My senses came back to me, one by one. I opened my eyes.

The carnival sounds returned slowly. It was surreal that everything had continued as normal during the time I’d blocked it out. The Ferris wheel still turned, the popcorn popped, and the line for the food moved on, though many of the folks in it stared at me in disgust.

“Shit,” I muttered and turned, searching the crowd for Rebecca. “Shit. Becca?” I called out.

But it was too late. She was gone.