A DATE FOR THE FAIR

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by Dover, L. P.




  Praise for a Date with a Foodie

  I’ve been left hungry, wanting for more. Deliciously romantic, and although it is short it will satisfy your appetite for romance.

  —Yoneidis Martín Martínez

  Ok as a foodie I loved this book!!!! A quick read as always and fun.

  —Jennifer

  This romance is one tasty morsel that will have you savoring every turn of the page.

  —One More Chapter

  One way to my heart is food...and this book delivers just that.

  —Christina Wilson

  Praise for The Dating Series

  McLaughlin and Dover give sex appeal a heart.

  —Isha Coleman

  In less than 100 pages, theses 2 authors have made me laugh, blush and fall in love with their characters.

  —Yoneidis Martín Martínez

  I loved it, I couldn't stop laughing and smiling!

  —Dana for Bloggin’ With M. Brennan

  The Dating Series has been, by far, my favorite reads of the year. I’ve devoured them all and can’t wait until the next one comes out.

  —Crystal

  Praise for Society X

  There are no words to describe how much I LOVED DARK ROOM. My two favorite authors come together to write an EPIC SEXY story! Parker is off the charts SEXY!! I couldn't get enough of him!

  —Amy, Goodreads

  Two of the most amazing authors come together to write this hot and steamy story.

  —Tamara, Goodreads

  Let loose your inhibitions, because being in the Dark Room will have you googling to see if one is near you.

  —Lexy at All Is Read

  After Dark Room, book one in this series, I was expecting BIG things from this book. Dark Room was a top read from me. I am a huge L.P. Dover fan and an even bigger fan of Heidi McLaughlin... but man these two ladies together are dynamic.

  —Brianna at Renee Entress’s Blog

  You know this book is going to be hot when they give you a warning before you start the reading the book! What I love about this book is it's ability to surprise me. I should know by now to never underestimate Heidi & LP when reading their books.

  —Annie, Goodreads

  What a steamy and hot read!! It started out steamy and sweet and ended with suspense and excitement!! Loved it!!

  —Kim, Goodreads

  Out of all the Society X novels, Play Room is hands down my favorite. I loved Alexandria and Kai together. They were sweet almost from the moment they met. This series was addictive from the start, and although it's over I look forward to what these two authors come up with next.

  —Rebecca, Goodreads

  Heidi McLaughlin & L.P. Dover deliver once again!! Loved the latest in the Society X series! Okay let's break this down shall we?!

  —Amber, Goodreads

  The Dating Series

  A Date for Midnight

  A Date with an Admirer

  A Date for Good Luck

  A Date for the Hunt

  A Date for the Derby

  A Date to Play Fore

  A Date with a Foodie

  A Date for the Fair

  A Date for the Regatta

  A Date for the Masquerade

  A Date with a Turkey

  A Date with an Elf

  A DATE FOR THE FAIR

  THE DATING SERIES #8

  Copyright © 2020

  Heidi McLaughlin & L.P. Dover

  All rights reserved.

  The right of Heidi McLaughlin to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her under the Copyright Amendment (Moral Rights) Act 2000. This work is copyright. Apart from any use as permitted under the Copyright Act 1968, no part may be reproduced, copied, scanned, stored in a retrieval system, recorded or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without prior written permission of the publisher. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and events are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  COVER DESIGN: MadHat Studios.

  EDITING: Briggs Consulting

  Contents

  1. Laura

  2. Jude

  3. Laura

  4. Jude

  5. Laura

  6. Jude

  7. Laura

  8. Jude

  9. Laura

  More Books from Heidi & L.P.

  Also by Heidi McLaughlin

  Also by L.P. Dover

  About Heidi McLaughlin

  About L.P. Dover

  1

  Laura

  As I look around my old college campus with my backpack on my back, I can’t help but think… I can’t believe I’m doing this again. I’m thirty-two years old, going back to college. Then again, it feels right. Breathing in the Boone mountain air is exactly what I needed. Anything is better than the stuffiness of Charlotte, North Carolina. Plus, I’m a couple of hours away from my ex-husband, which is great in itself.

  It’s the first day of school and I feel so out of place. Everyone around me is younger, mostly kids between eighteen and twenty-one. I feel like Melissa McCarthy in the movie Life of the Party where she plays a newly divorced mother going to the same college as her daughter. Granted, I’m not as old as her character and I don’t have any kids, but my younger sister is here. She’s twenty years old and a sophomore, and it turns out we’ll be graduating together in two years. Our parents both graduated from Appalachian State University and now it’s our turn.

  I have an hour before my next class, so I take the time to walk around the entire campus. Not much has changed since I left twelve years ago. The weather is perfect for a hot, summer day in August. Soon, it’ll get colder and the snow will fall. That’s what I’ve missed about not living in Boone. Sure, we’d get a couple of inches in Charlotte every once in a while, but in the North Carolina mountains we were guaranteed a real snowfall.

  I walk past Frank Hall which is where I had my dorm the first time I attended school here. My roommate’s name was Jennifer. She was one of my best friends in high school and we still keep in touch through social media. She’s happily married with four kids. Most of my old friends are according to Facebook. After my divorce, I had a couple of old boyfriends send me messages, but I’m not about to jump down that rabbit hole. Right now, I’m done with men. I’ve completely sworn them off. I need to concentrate on myself.

  Once I’m done walking around Frank Hall, I head away from the dorms on up to the academic buildings. I take the underground pathway that runs underneath Rivers Street, so students don’t have to cross the road. It’s kind of creepy at night so I always made sure to avoid having to walk through the tunnel after dark. When I get to the other side, I walk up the hill and a memory flashes in my mind. I remember it snowing one morning and the sidewalk was icy. My feet ended up flying clear above my head and I broke my tailbone. The next day in class, I had a cushion the doctor gave me to sit on, but it wasn’t enough. I ended up sitting with my butt cocked up on one side, and all the guys kept asking if I was trying to pass gas. Fun times.

  My next class is in Sanford Hall which feels like a mile away. I exercise occasionally and still get out and walk every now and again, but I’m not eighteen anymore. Hopefully, by the end of the semester I can tackle the hills without huffing and puffing.

  I take a seat on one of the benches outside Sanford Hall to catch my breath. I’m really not looking forward to my next class. It’s Philosophy of Science which has nothing to do with my Interior Design degree. However, it is a humanities course, and I need one to graduate. It makes no sense to me why I have to waste my time on a class that doesn’t
pertain to interior design.

  “What’s up, biotch?”

  A smile lights up my face. Even though my sister is twelve years younger than me, she’s my best friend. Once she got into high school and got out of her annoying phase, we started to get close. Now that she’s in college, we’re even closer. She lived with me for the past year while I was going through my divorce, but now she lives at her sorority house.

  Glancing over my shoulder, I watch Anna as she hurries over, dressed in a pair of black gym shorts and a gray T-shirt with her sorority letters on it. “Hey!” I call out.

  She flops down beside me and sets her bookbag on her lap. “How did your morning class go?”

  I shrug. “Good. It was a little weird being in there with all youngsters, but no one looked at me strange.”

  Her lips purse. “You’re not an old woman, Laura. You’re thirty-two years old with buns of steel, gorgeous chestnut colored hair, and bright green eyes I’d kill for. You’re hot.”

  I bump her with my shoulder. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, sis.”

  “You’re welcome,” she says, beaming. Most people don’t even know we’re sisters because we look so different. I got my hair color from our father and she got the blonde from our mother. But I got my green eyes from our mother and she got brown from our father. We’re a mish mash of them both.

  One of her sorority sisters waves as she walks past and we both wave back. “Anything exciting going on at the sorority house tonight?”

  Anna’s grin widens. “Just meeting some of the pledges. You should consider joining us. Rush isn’t that bad.”

  I snort. “Please. I’m not cut out for that crap. Plus, I know you’re always surrounded by frat guys. I had my fill of that when I was with Shawn.” He was part of a fraternity when I attended UNC Charlotte with him. It was constant parties and girls everywhere. Don’t get me wrong, I had my fair share of fun, but it got old really quick. I thought Shawn would grow up after a while, but after being married to him for six years, nothing ever changed.

  Anna snarls in disgust. “Shawn’s an egotistical douchecanoe. I’m so glad you finally had the sense to leave him.”

  I nod. “Me too. I just hate I wasted so many years.”

  “And now you’re here,” she says excitedly. “Just think of all the fun we’re going to have.”

  “Oh yeah,” I laugh, “me with you and all your twenty-year-old friends. That won’t be awkward at all.”

  “Hey, it’s better than nothing. Who knows? You might meet someone you like. You’re not the only student over thirty years old.” I look around at all the people talking and smiling with their friends, the group of guys passing a football on the quad, and the various study groups congregating on the grass. All of them are young. Anna follows my line of sight and then glances sheepishly back at me. “Okay, fine, you might be the only one, but so what? You got me. That’s all you need.”

  I smile. “You’re damn right.”

  She pats my leg. “But now, I have to go.” She hops up and flings her bookbag over her shoulder. “I have two more classes and then it’s off to home. If you change your mind about pledging, just show up at the sorority house around seven.”

  I shake my head. “Not gonna happen. Sorry, sis.”

  “Fine.” She holds up her hands and turns on her heel. “Talk to ya later!”

  Glancing down at my phone, I have ten minutes left until class starts. Groaning, I pick up my bookbag and head inside the building. I’ve never dreaded a class as much as I dread this one. I mean, who takes Philosophy of Science? What do you even learn in it? Unfortunately, when it came time to register for classes, I was a little late which meant I didn’t have the best of choices.

  When I walk into the class, I’m not shocked to see a variety of people. There are three people toward the back right of the room with multi-colored hair, a guy and a girl in the middle who look like they just came from Woodstock, four guys in the front who can’t stop talking about Minecraft, and then a group of people to the side who seem somewhat normal. Instead of sitting by myself, I join the last group. There are three guys and two girls with one seat open beside one of the guys. In a way, it feels like I’m the new girl in school. In college, it’s not like that though. I made so many friends with people I never thought I’d have anything in common with. That was the fun part of the college experience. Now, I just feel like I’m out of the loop.

  Setting my bookbag on the desk, I sit down beside the guy who looks to be around my sister’s age. He smiles and so do the other two guys and the two girls at my back. “I’m Laura,” I say to them.

  Everyone introduces themselves but the girl behind me is the only one who holds out her hand. “I’m Summer. Nice to meet you.”

  I shake her hand. “Likewise.”

  She leans in close, lowering her voice. “Were you forced to take this class too?”

  This makes me laugh. “Kind of,” I whisper back. “I needed a humanities course. This was all that was left.”

  “Same. I heard it’s a lot of debate. Should be kind of easy though.”

  I open my bookbag and pull out a pen and my notebook. There’s only one minute left on the clock. All I know is it’s going to be the longest hour and a half of my life. Summer taps me on the shoulder with her pen.

  “Which dorm are you in?” she asks.

  I turn around to stare at her. “Oh goodness, sweetheart, I’m not living in a dorm. I did that back when I was a freshman.”

  “You make it sound like that was a long time ago.”

  “It was,” I laugh. “Fourteen years ago to be exact.”

  The guys look at each other and smile. I know all about the whole MILF thing. I’m sure that’s what’s going through their minds. Summer stares at me in awe. “How old are you? You don’t look much older than me.”

  “I’m thirty-two.”

  The guy beside me leans in close. “Hey, I’m Brad. You married?”

  I shake my head. “Nope.”

  Summer snorts and waves him off. “Honey, she’s not going to want a little boy like you.” Then she focuses on me, but then her eyes widen at something over my shoulder. “Holy hell.”

  “What?” I jerk my head toward the front of the class and that’s when I see him. Our professor, only he’s not just that to me. His dark brown hair that used to be cut close, is now longer, and looks like he just ran a hand through it. I remember when he used to hate not being able to grow facial hair, but now his cheeks and jaw are covered with stubble. I never thought I’d see him again. Jude Daniels. He was my best friend for most of my life until my husband wanted me to cut ties with him. I’ve often wondered where he was, and now I have my answer.

  Summer’s voice is right by my ear. “This class may be stupid, but I think I’m going to love it.”

  I nod, but I can’t even form the words. Jude sets his stuff down on the desk and glances around quickly. “Good afternoon, everyone. I’m Jude Daniels, your philosophy professor. You are more than welcome to call me Jude. I usually teach computer science, but they needed someone at the last minute to fill in here.” He laughs and it makes me smile. It sounds the same after all these years. “Just bear with me.”

  His attention starts to turn my way, and out of reflex, I look down at my notebook so my hair covers my face. He passes out a stack of papers, and luckily, he doesn’t get a good look at me. After ending our friendship eight years ago, he probably hates me. I just hope he doesn’t fail me.

  2

  Jude

  “Stupid, stupid hair,” I mutter as my hand brushes through it one more time. I step closer to the full-length mirror my mother hung in my cabin not too many weeks ago, reminding me that I needed to look professional when I went to work and not like some lumberjack who just crawled out of the woods. She also mentioned something about a haircut, which I conveniently forgot about until just now. I groan and give up on my unruly mess of hair. It’s not overly long, but long enough for my friends to tease m
e by saying I have “sex hair” or “just had sex hair.” Surely, people comb their hair after sex, especially before entering a college classroom full of horny students. I also should’ve shaved, but doing so now would make me late, and being late for class means none of the students will be there because they don’t wait for anyone.

  The drive to campus consists of a windy road, a watchful eye for any wildlife who tend to dart out in front of cars as if they’re playing their own version of chicken, and a repeated flip of my visor. Up, down, up, down. I swear my forearm gets a workout while I try desperately to block the sun.

  When I arrive on campus, I watch as students leisurely walk toward their next class or their dorms, with their backpacks slung over their shoulders, a latte in one hand and their phone in the other. After five years of teaching at the high school level, I obtained my masters and immediately took a job at Appalachian State. It’s not that I didn’t want to shape the minds of teenagers when it came to computer science, it’s that I grew tired of the excuses and the phone calls from parents making even more excuses as to why their child didn’t do their homework. In college, don’t do your homework—fail. It’s that simple. I don’t have to explain myself ten times over on why Junior received a big red F on his report card. The chances are, if a student fails my class now, they don’t even tell their parents. It’s a win-win for me. Except I hate it when students don’t give it their all.

 

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