“ARE YOU EXPECTING him to answer you back?” Ashley’s voice carries over the fence of the goat pen at the fairgrounds. The annual Island County Fair is in full swing and I have an exhibitor’s booth with a few of my goats.
“Her. And sometimes she does.” I finish attaching Lou’s new collar and bell. “There you go, pretty girl.”
“You compliment your goats more than human women.” She climbs up the rungs and swings her right leg over the top of the fence.
“They know how to take a compliment.” As soon as the words pass my teeth I freeze, waiting for her comeback.
“Touché.”
That’s it. No snarky barb or quick slice of her defensive wit.
“Are you fishing for me to say nice things about you?” I stroll toward the fence where she’s perched herself on a beam. We’re about the same height and I wonder if we could have sex with her sitting on the fence. I’d like to try, but not during Saturday afternoon at the fair.
She adjusts the old cowboy hat on her head. With her blue plaid shirt knotted at her waist and her jeans, she blends in with most of the fair goers, but I think she’s the prettiest girl here. “Despite what you think, women like sincere compliments. Not some bullshit line to get us naked.”
I tap the brim of her hat. “Not every nice thing is said in hope of leading to sex.”
“Are you sure?” She wrinkles her freckled nose in doubt.
“Pretty positive. No matter what you read online, men are able to think of other things besides sex. And for longer than thirty seconds, or a minute. Give us some credit.”
Her nose wrinkles, telling me she wants to disagree.
“Not all men who are nice also want to have sex with you.”
Her lips part but she doesn’t speak. In fact, she turns her head and stares at the group of goats enjoying a romp in their paddock. “Geez, you really do believe I’m sex obsessed, don’t you?”
“Do you want me to answer that honestly?” I squeeze her thighs.
“Of course. Why would I want you to lie to me?”
“No, I don’t think you’re obsessed. Or a slut. And I don’t think your master plan is working.”
“What plan?”
“To hide behind a bad reputation to protect your heart.” I’m certain of this because I do the same thing.
“You lost me.”
“I’ve been thinking about this for a while.” Years. “I think you used Tom for more than sex.”
“Some would say I was in love with him,” she says with a frown.
“Were you?”
“Maybe.” She picks a long splinter of wood near her thigh.
“I’m not sure. Is love about sacrificing yourself for the other person?”
“I don’t know. Sometimes, yes.”
“And getting nothing in return?” I prod.
She stares into the distance, her voice soft when she speaks. “We had an understanding. Or so I thought.”
“Did he lead you on?” I duck my head to see her eyes under the wide brim of her hat.
“No.” She finally makes eye contact. “I don’t regret any of it. Except the meat throwing. And the swinger’s party I tricked him into going to.”
My thumbs dig into her hips. “Errr . . . the what party?”
“Long, embarrassing story.” She squirms, and I release my hold.
“Holy shit. Does Hailey know?”
She lifts a shoulder. “How would I know? None of my business. It’s so two years ago.”
“Um.” I rub both hands over my jaw and then shove them through my hair. Lacing my fingers together behind my head, I try to digest this news. “Is . . . are . . . is that something you enjoy?”
Her eyes widen so big I can see almost all the white around her irises. “Oh, God no! Someday I’ll tell you the story, but I don’t think here is the time or place. Short version is nothing happened. Tom stormed out. I hid on the deck with a friend who got dragged there by his now ex-girlfriend. Oh, and there was a ferret cage, but no ferret. I think that was the strangest part. Like, where was the ferret? Did they even have one? Or just the cage? Was it loose in the house?”
She’s talking about an exotic pet while my mind is on a mental Zipper ride. Images and questions flip around in my head over and over while I try to process the bomb Ashley dropped at my feet.
“Why?” I finally manage to speak.
“Why the ferret? I have no idea.”
“No, why did you want to do that with him?”
“Honestly, I’m not sure. I think I knew we didn’t have a real connection other than friendship and sex. If that’s all it was, then we should go full tilt. Push the limits. Find out who we are outside of our daily roles. Turns out, one more thing we had in common is not wanting to share. Or have an audience. Sometimes you need to get out of your comfort zone.”
The way she shares all of this like it’s no big deal blows my mind. For the first time since we’ve been together, the rumors about Ashley make sense. She’s not a woman who will be happy going through life being sweet and passive.
“Did I freak you out?” A line forms between her beautiful eyes with their layers of brown, green, and gray.
“Yes, but you didn’t scare me away.”
“I’m not a swinger, so don’t get your hopes up.”
“I’ve never wanted to share you.” I press the pad of my finger on the crease to erase her worry. “At least you won’t want to take me to a key party.”
“I’m certain I’ve gotten it out of my system. Isn’t that what our twenties are for?”
“Lord knows it was for me.”
“Does it bother you?”
“What?”
“My wild streak. I know what people say about me. Hell, my own mother thinks I’m a floozy.”
“No. Because I’d be a hypocrite if I judged you for the same things I’ve done. Double-standard bullshit.”
“You’ll always be my first.” She worries her bottom lip between her teeth.
“I hope to be your last.”
Her cheeks lift with the beginning of a smile. “Big words you’re saying there. You plan to back them up?”
I squeeze my way between her knees. “One hundred percent. I’m not going away.”
“Is it wrong I want to kiss you in front of half the future farmers of Whidbey?”
“Hell no. They’ve seen their share of animals having sex, what’s with two adults kissing?”
Our lips crash together. Tongues tangle and hands wander. Never will I tire of kissing this woman. And if she keeps kissing me like she is now, nothing else matters.
“Get a room!” a squeaky voice shouts from the tent behind us. He’s joined by a chorus of boys shouting “ew” and “gross.”
We laugh against each other’s lips as our kiss falls apart.
I give up and put a foot of space between us. “I think our work here is done. Let’s go ride the Ferris wheel and make out in privacy.”
“Do you ever look at old people and try to see their younger versions? Like reversing a film?”
“No.”
“Come on, aren’t you ever curious? For a chunk of their lives they were like us. Handsome and beautiful, or striking and rugged. Before they were senior citizens, they lived for decades loving and fucking and hanging out with their friends. A little snow on the roof doesn’t mean the fire’s gone out below.”
“Please stop.”
“No, someday you’re going to be an old man in thick soled sneakers and a cardigan. Probably a jaunty cap on your head and a cane you like to twirl. You’ll always be you. I bet the little widows will chase you around and get into cat fights over who will bring you your favorite pudding. Good thing you’ll have the cane to beat them back. Except for the ladies on the motorized scooters. Watch out. You won’t be able to outrun those frisky girls.”
“You’re morbid and weird.” I kiss her cheek. “I only want to be caught by you.”
“It’s not morbid. I spend my days in a box while people come and go. I do a lot of people watching. Sometimes I pretend I’m older. Like what will I be like when I’m sixty? Or eighty? Will my boobs fit under the elastic waistband of my comfort slacks? Will I have a peach rinse to my gray hair? I think I’ll keep it long and wear it in braids around my head like my grandmother did. Then at night, I’ll let it down and brush it for a hundred strokes. Or maybe my lover will do it for me.”
“I stand by the weird comment.” I smile against her skin before pressing my lips into another kiss.
Ignoring my kisses, she continues. “What’s the alternative? Die young and miss the fun?”
“Okay, I’m standing by morbid too.” The Ferris wheel reaches the top and we swing back and forth for a moment while one of the cars is unloaded.
“It’s the circle of life.”
“Like a Ferris wheel?” The ride lurches to a start and we dip down, moving closer to the ground.
“You’ve never thought about growing old?” Undeterred, she continues her stream of thought.
“Not the way you have. Sure, I’ve tried to think about my life and what I want out of it. That’s why I quit the golf course and started the goat business. I didn’t want to spend my whole life on a rider mower. I mean, I love Bill Murray as much as the next guy, but I don’t want to live out my days in my own version of Caddyshack.”
“I love him. Funny men make me horny.”
If it weren’t for the safety bar, I would probably fall out of our bucket from shock. “That’s a new one.”
“Not really. I’ll take humor and intelligence over big muscles and a handsome mug any day of the week.”
“Guess that rules me out.” I flex my arm not resting behind her and kiss my bicep.
She snickers. “I didn’t realize this was a gun show.”
“Gotta use what I’ve got.”
“Quit being so hard on yourself. You’re not dumb, no matter how many times you tell people you are.”
“Says the smartest girl in school who got straight As.”
“If I’m so smart, you should believe me.” She bumps my shoulder with hers and then wriggles her fingers in between mine. “Who cares if you sucked at some classes in high school? Ancient history. You’re an entrepreneur and pretty successful so far with your first venture. Plus, you know me, and I’m a business genius. I have a bunch of marketing ideas for you. Not only are you running a business, you’re a kickass goatherd. Those little beasties all love you.”
“Except Ted. He runs at me and tries to gore me with his horns every chance he gets.”
“Ted’s an asshole. You can’t please everyone.”
“You should listen to your own pep talk sometime.” I squeeze her hand.
“Coffee is a no brainer around here. It’s all about location. Be where the tired people are and boom! Sell them coffee.”
“Don’t downplay your success. You’re barely thirty and you have an empire.”
“Being an emperor under thirty isn’t always a good thing. Take Caligula. Didn’t turn out so well for him. Or Nero. Pretty sure they all ended up murdered or banished.”
“See what I mean about smart? How do you know these things?” I’m in awe of her brain and smarts.
“All those weeks and months I spent on restriction? I read the encyclopedias my grandmother gave me. They were super outdated, but they got the old stuff right.”
The Ferris wheel glides around its circle and deposits us at the bottom. The carnie with the Kid Rock tattoo and a cropped top decorated with an American flag opens our little door. “Thanks for riding. Come again.”
I’m pretty sure he says the same thing to every ticket holder, but the way he stares at Ashley is one hundred percent dirty old man.
“Listen, friend,” I say between clenched teeth, “keep it PG.”
He blinks at me, then slides his beady eyes over Ashley again. “You man enough for her? You know what they say about them redheads.”
Is there any point in punching a carnie? I imagine him falling backward only to bounce back like one of the rigged games on the midway.
“Carter,” Ashley begs. “Stop. Sir, we all know redheads steal the souls of their lovers to fill the empty void of their own soulless existence.”
The Kid Rock superfan and American patriot blinks at her a few times. “Shit, that’s messed up.”
Laughing, we stroll away from his shocked expression.
“I’m going to guess he’s not going to let you come again.”
She stalls to a stop and shudders. “Ew. Ew. Ew.”
“Need some hand sanitizer for your brain?” I point at the dispenser randomly placed next to the mustard at the hot dog stand.
“Ugh.” She shakes her head so hard her braid whips around her shoulders. “Who started this redhead bullshit? I want to hunt them down and smother them with their own pillow.”
“And then steal their soul?”
Her growl is both realistic and scary when she lunges at me. I dodge and weave through the crowd in the direction of the lumberjack arena.
“Help, help, I’m being chased by a succubus! Save me! Save my soul!” My laughter prevents me from speaking clearly. Panting hard, I have to stop and rest my hands on my knees.
Ashley jumps on my back and pretends to bite my neck. My instincts kick in and I wrap my hands around her thighs to secure her.
“Help, I’m being attacked by a hell cat,” I whisper so only she can hear me. “Help. Save me.”
“No one will come to your rescue. You’re doomed.” Her breath grazes my cheek. The angle makes kissing her almost impossible, but I love a challenge.
Twisting my neck, I plant a kiss on her cheek. She responds by kissing me smack on the mouth.
She can have my soul. Put it in a jar on the shelf next to my heart she already owns.
Talk about weird and morbid.
At the south end of the fairgrounds is the set up for the lumberjack competition. Men, women, boys, and girls of all ages compete by chopping wood, climbing wood, rolling on wood, and sawing wood. It’s all about the wood. John Day and Tom Donnely pride themselves on being repeat champions. The stands fill with women of all ages who show up for the men’s competition. Amazing how many ladies are interested in chainsaws and axes.
Right.
They’re here for the hot lumberjack eye candy in the plaid shirts, tight jeans, and suspenders.
Among the younger women, I spot Sandy, Sally, and Connie sitting in the prime seats in front of the shallow pool for the log rolling. You might even say they’re in the splash zone. Because it’s not about who stays on the log the longest. Oh no. It’s who falls into the water and the slow-motion video they’ll replay later when they’re alone.
“Carter!” I hear my mom’s voice calling my name.
I spot her sitting in the row behind the gossips. “Great.”
“We should go say hi.”
I freeze. Ashley keeps walking until she’s jerked back by my anchor of an arm.
“Carter?” She returns and stares at me.
“We can go shoot water into a clown’s mouth if you want. I’ll win you a giant panda. Or one of those unicorns with a sparkly rainbow horn.”
She glances over her shoulder at the stands, then back at me. “Is it Tom?”
“What? No. My mom and the gossip girls are sitting in the first two rows.”
“So?”
I lift up our joined hands. “You ready to go public?”
“Oh. I guess holding hands at the fair is a formal declaration.”
“If it was when we were teenagers, it probably holds true for now, too.”
She twists a curl around her finger. “It’s cool if you want to avoid the questions and stares.”
In the time I pause to decipher her words, her fingers slip from mine. “Okay. Totally fine. I’m happy to fly under the radar while I’m on the island this summer. For all anyone knows, I’m using Dan and Roslyn’s as a convent. Kind of nice not to be the center of gossip central. I wonder if anyone’s noticed. Maybe I should write a press release for the Record. Pretty big news. I can see the article now.” As she speaks, her voice rises an octave.
I clasp her hand again and twine my fingers with hers. “I say screw them all. Let’s give them something to talk about.”
Her gorgeous face lights up with her smile. “Blow their nosey socks right off?”
“Decimate them,” I lower my voice as our heads tilt together. “They’ll have to buy new ones.”
“I like your thinking,” she whispers, her breath skimming over my lips.
I swear I hear a gasp from behind us when our mouths collide in a chaste, but passionate kiss. Standing in the middle of the fairgrounds, the sounds of the midway games beeping and whirring surrounding us, the scent of fried dough and farm animals filling the air, and hundreds of eyes potentially staring at us, I stake my claim on Ashley Kingston for all to see.