He reached over to take her hand as they drove down the road. “What are you going to be doing while I’m putting booths together?”
“General stuff. Decorating, organizing. Someone always has to fiddle with the cotton candy machine. It only gets used a couple of times a year, and it has a tendency to be fickle.”
“Cotton candy, huh?” He perked up a little, and she laughed. “This might just be worth it.”
“Wait till you see my costume,” she told him and waggled her brows.
“Can’t wait. What time does your shift start, Sybil?”
“Seven, sharp,” she told him as they turned the corner at the high school. “I’m on for two hours, then The Great and Powerful Bob takes over.”
Ethan snorted out a laugh. “The Great and Powerful Bob?”
“Bob Martin, the high school principal. The kids get a kick out of it.”
Ethan pictured Bob Martin, with his spare tire and male pattern baldness, reading minds and telling the future. “I bet they do.”
He pulled into the school parking lot, where a flurry of activity was already underway. He scanned the people milling about, and he cursed to himself. This thing was going to be a security nightmare. He wasn’t sure how he was going to manage it, but he didn’t intend to let Honey out of his sight.
“Hey.”
He glanced at her, poised to exit the truck. Her eyes were shielded by the dark glasses, a sexy little smile on her mouth. “After I’m done at the booth, you want to meet up? I’ll show you the best games, and you can win me an obnoxiously large stuffed animal of dubious quality.”
“It’s a date,” he told her.
As it turned out, he didn’t need to worry about keeping Honey in sight. Winnie had come out to help with the setup, and Michael had come with her. Jacob had tried to draft him into helping hammer the booths together, but Michael had looked so panicked at the idea of doing manual labor that Winnie had taken pity on him and told Jacob she’d already drafted him to help with the decorating and organizing.
Ethan had been almost as relieved as Michael. Jacob kept the crew, which included Seth and David, hopping with booth building and helping out with the electrical hookups, so it would have been impossible to be able to stay with Honey. But he knew he could trust Michael to do it.
By the time the booths had been built, and the electrical had been straightened out—and the cotton candy machine had been thoroughly tested—it was nearly seven o’clock. Michael had given Honey a ride home so she could clean up and get into what she had referred to as her ‘sexy psychic costume’ while Ethan helped Jacob with a few last-minute details.
Once he was done, he made quick work of his shower, digging out a pair of clean jeans and a long-sleeved shirt in a concession to the early fall chill in the air. His hair had gotten so long he had to flip it out of the collar, and he realized with a start he hadn’t had a haircut since he’d arrived in Sweetwater.
Recalling how it felt to have Honey run her fingers through it or grab onto it when she lost herself in passion, he felt no great need to deal with it.
He made his way back to the high school, a little stunned at the crowd. It had only taken him thirty minutes to get cleaned up and return, but in that time it seemed at least half the town had shown up. Couples walked hand in hand, kids ran screaming with excitement, and teenagers gathered in groups.
He wove his way through the throngs of people, aiming for the fortune teller tent. Set up close to the entrance, it was one of the few booths that were fully enclosed, and there were already half a dozen people standing in line.
He spotted Michael and his aunt right away and headed in their direction. Winnie was stationed at the tent’s entrance, seated at a folding table where she collected tickets from visitors. Michael stood nearby, scanning the crowd with a sharp eye.
“Here you two are.”
“Hello, darling.” Winne tilted her face up for his kiss, then smiled as a wide-eyed girl of about fifteen exited the tent and ran to join a group of girls standing a few feet away.
“You guys, it was awesome!” she exclaimed and chattered excitedly as they walked away.
Winnie winked at the next person in line. “You can go in now, honey. And don’t lie to Sybil. She’ll know and won’t give you a true reading.”
Ethan held back a chuckle as the boy nodded earnestly before ducking into the tent. “Nice.”
“I thought so. Now, since I’m stuck here taking tickets for the next little while, how about one of you boys go find me a funnel cake and a beer?”
“I’ll get it for you, Winnie,” Michael said, and with a slight jerk of his head, walked toward the food stand about ten yards away.
“A beer sounds good,” Ethan said easily. “Does Honey need anything?”
Winnie shook her head. “She’s got a bottle of water, said that’s all she wanted for now.”
“Be right back.”
He made his way to the food booth where Michael stood in line. “How’s it looking?”
“Quiet,” Michael replied. “But your aunt’s no lightweight in the brains department, and she’s starting to get a little suspicious.”
Ethan had been searching the crowd, but now his gaze shot back to Michael’s. “Did you tell her anything?”
Michael shook his head. “So far, she’s not asking, but she will. Probably sooner rather than later.”
“Shit.” He risked a glance and found her watching them with narrowed eyes. “If she presses you, let me know.”
“Got it.” Michael stepped up to the window and ordered a funnel cake and three beers, tugging his wallet out of his back pocket. “What about Honey?”
“What about her?”
“You planning to tell her anything?” Michael smiled at the young woman in the booth as she took his money.
“Not unless I have to.”
Michael passed Ethan a beer. “You sure that’s wise?”
Ethan shook her head. “I don’t want to spook her.”
Michael gathered the funnel cake and Winnie’s beer, then stepped aside so the customers behind them could step up to the window. “It’s your call, but she seems like a strong lady. My guess is she can handle it.”
“She doesn’t know.”
Michael arched a brow. “The nature of your former business?”
Ethan nodded and took a pull of his beer. “I started to tell her, and she told me it didn’t matter. She meant it,” he added, a little of the stunned gratitude he’d felt in that moment coloring his voice.
“If that’s true, then she’s one in a million.”
“Yeah.” Ethan stared at the fortune teller’s tent. “Yeah, she is. I’m going to marry her.”
Michael’s grin was bright and quick. “Well, damn.”
“Yeah.” Ethan let out a half-laugh. “Who’d have thought?”
Michael shook his head. “I assumed you’d get bored with all this at some point and get back in the game.”
“No. No, I’m done.” Ethan drew a deep breath, and the knowledge that it was the absolute truth eased something deep inside.
“I can see that.” Michael nodded as they made their way back to Winnie. “I’m happy for you, Ethan.”
“Thanks. You’ll stick with Winnie for the night?”
“Of course.” Michael beamed a smile at Winnie as they reached her. “Here you go, Winnie. As requested.”
“Thank you, Michael.” She took the beer with an arched brow. “Ethan, can I assume you’re going to be hanging around, waiting for Honey?”
Ethan had to fight not to squirm. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Good.” She pushed to her feet and sent him a sunny smile. “Then you can sit here and take tickets, and I can show Michael the joys of a carnival.”
Ethan blinked. “Uh...”
“Your relief will be along when Honey’s shift is over. Come on, Michael.” She gathered up her beer and her funnel cake and slipped an arm through Michael’s. “I’ll win you a teddy bear.�
�
“Can’t turn that down.” Amused, Michael nodded at Ethan. “See you later.”
“Yeah. Later.” Ethan scowled after them, then dropped into the metal folding chair with a sigh. When the tent flap flew open and the gangly kid he’d seen go in before emerged with a huge grin on his face, he took the ticket of the girl next in line.
“Go on in,” he said and leveled his best stare at her. “And no lies. She’s psychic, and she’ll know, and your reading will be shit.”
When the girl rolled her eyes at him and marched past him into the tent, Ethan took a long drink of his beer and checked his watch. “One hour and fifteen minutes to go.”
* * *
Honey shifted on her own metal folding chair and wondered if it was possible for a butt to go permanently numb. She’d stopped feeling hers about twenty minutes ago and could only hope that the condition was temporary.
There seemed to be a lull in customers, so she took her phone out of the pocket of her jeans and tapped out a quick text to Ethan. How are you enjoying your first carnival?
Almost immediately, he sent back: The people-watching is epic.
She laughed out loud as she typed a reply: Told you so. What’s your favorite ride so far?
Rides? He wrote back. I’m stuck taking tickets for some crackpot fortune teller.
Her mouth dropped open in surprise, and her gaze shot to the front of the tent. As if on cue, the beaded curtain that had been hung across the opening shifted to the side, and Ethan’s head appeared. “Hi.”
“Hi. Where’s Winnie?”
“Apparently kicking Michael’s ass at the ring toss.” His eyes glittered with humor. “You doing okay back here?”
“My butt has gone numb, but other than that.” She laughed. “I’m going to need to walk around after this.”
“Mind an escort?”
“I’d love one.”
Ethan opened his mouth, then shut it again as a voice rang out behind him. “Is this where the psychic lady is?”
Ethan glanced over his shoulder, then sent her a wink. “You’ve got a customer. I’ll see you in—” he glanced at his watch. “—thirteen minutes.”
“It’s a date,” she told him, then he was gone, and a boy of about twelve was stomping into the tent.
He sat in the chair across from her and crossed his arms across his chest. “I don’t believe in psychics.”
This is going to be the longest thirteen minutes of my life, she thought as she worked up a smile for her customer.
Thankfully, the skeptical twelve-year-old had only taken up a few minutes, leaving in disgust when she wasn’t able to give him the answers to all the seventh-grade math quizzes for the upcoming school year. She laid her phone on the table and watched the minutes tick down, and finally, at four minutes to nine, figured that was close enough.
She slipped the phone back in her pocket and ducked her head down to retrieve her purse from under the table when a noise made her jump. She sat back up to find a man sitting in the chair across from her.
So close. She stifled the sigh and worked up a smile. “Welcome. I am Sybil.”
The light in the tent was deliberately dim to add to the atmosphere, so the man sat partly in shadow. She saw dark hair with a hint of curl, and an olive complexion. His jaw was strong, and his nose had a crooked bend in the bridge that told her it had likely been broken more than once. She briefly wondered who he was, then gave a mental shrug. It wasn’t unusual to see new faces at the carnival; tourists enjoyed it, and they got a fair number of visitors from neighboring towns.
She pasted a practiced smile on her face as she gave him the spiel. “You can ask the spirits a question, or I can read your palm.”
A little fission of unease skittered up her spine when he continued to stare for a long moment before he uttered a one-word response. “Question.”
“Very well,” she said and laid her hands on the table with a little flourish that made the rings on her fingers wink in the low light. “You must give the spirits your name,” she told him, “before you ask your question.”
He scoffed, not even bothering to attempt to disguise the sound. “Tony.”
She nodded, becoming more uncomfortable by the moment. Something about this guy made the back of her neck itch. “Tony. What question do you put to the spirits this night?”
“Will my business be successful?”
She blinked, a little startled by both the question and the intensity of his voice. Eager to be finished, she tilted her head back and drew in a deep breath. “I see the business of which you speak. It is complicated.”
He chuckled, and something about the sound had the fine hairs on the back of her neck standing at attention. He shifted slightly, coming a little further into the light, and she could see his eyes glittering at her. She paused, taken aback by the rage she saw reflected there. But then it was gone, and she thought it must have been just a trick of the light. Uneasy, wanting the reading over with, she tilted her head back again and drew another breath.
“It is complicated and dangerous,” she continued, forcing her voice to flow smoothly when it wanted to hitch. “But I see that if you work hard, and are clever, you will be successful.”
She lowered her gaze to his. “Is there any other question you would like to ask the spirits?”
“No.” He pushed back his chair and stood, a stocky man with a heavy paunch. “No, that’s all I needed.”
“Then I wish you luck in your business.”
He just stood there staring at her, then turned without a word and headed for the flap at the back of the tent. She opened her mouth to tell him he was supposed to use the front entrance, but he was gone.
“That was weird,” she muttered, then let out a short shriek when the tent flap flew open again.
Bob Martin, aka the Great and Powerful Bob, froze in place. “Jeez. It’s just me.”
“Bob.” She sagged in her chair. “You scared the crap out of me.”
“Sorry.” He grinned and spun in a circle, arms held out to the side. “What do you think of the new threads?”
Her lips twitched. He wore a sparkling purple tuxedo, complete with top hat and tails, and a bow tie in shiny gold. Local school colors, she realized, and laughed. “Pretty great and powerful.”
“Right?” He grinned and did a little dance. “I’m going to wear it to the homecoming dance.”
The last of her unease dissipated as she gathered her purse. “I’ll be sure to look for that.”
She rose from the chair and circled the small table, heading for the entrance. “Have a good night, Bob.”
“Same to you,” he said cheerfully and flipped his tails back as he took the chair.
She gave a little wave over her shoulder then ducked out of the tent. As the fresh air hit her face, she sighed with pleasure. It wasn’t overly hot in the tent, but there wasn’t much airflow, and the slightly chilly breeze felt amazingly good.
“Hey, Sybil.”
She glanced up, her smile widening as she saw Ethan standing at the edge of the tent. “Hey.”
He strolled toward her, blue eyes glittering in the twilight as he took in her appearance. “You look good.”
She glanced down at herself. She’d paired the black skinny jeans with a peasant top in bright pink, the elastic neckline tugged down to leave her shoulders bare. Big hoop earrings, half a dozen gold-toned bangles, and multiple rings on her fingers completed the ensemble, and she’d played up her makeup to give herself a sultry, mysterious look.
Well, as sultry and mysterious as a brown-eyed blonde who looked like Gidget could pull off.
She glanced back up as he drew near. “Well, thanks. You look good, too.” And it was perfectly true. Jeans rode low on his hips, and the crisp white button-down shirt showed off the tan he’d acquired working outside all summer. He’d rolled the sleeves back to leave his forearms bare, and the open collar showed just a hint of his collarbones.
She did love nibbling on his
collarbones.
She reached up to toy with the hair that curled against his collar. “You need a haircut.”
He grimaced as he slid a hand around her waist. “I know. I was just thinking I haven’t gotten it cut since before I came here.”
“I kind of like it this way,” she said, edging closer. Her other arm came up to loop around his neck, and she pressed herself against him. She gave a little hum of pleasure at the contact. “Makes you kind of look like a bad boy.”
His lips curved with amusement, and he slid a hand under her blouse to rest in the small of her back. “Like bad boys, do you?”
“I never have before,” she confessed as her fingers continued to toy with his hair. “But now...”
“Well.” He lowered his head to nip at her lip, just sharp enough to sting. The jolt of it made her gasp even as her system translated the little jolt of pain to a pulsing pleasure that settled deep inside her. “Maybe I’ll be bad for you later.”
She made a sound deep in her throat, almost like a purr, and felt him harden against her belly. Feeling deliciously wicked, she leaned in to scrape her teeth along his jaw. “Maybe I’ll let you.”
Then she laughed, a sound of pure delight, and took him by the hand. “Come on. Let’s go do the carnival.”
His eyes still glowed with heat. “Sure you don’t just want to head home and be bad?”
“Uh-uh.” She grinned and tugged at his hand. “You promised me a ridiculous stuffed animal, and I know just where to find it.”
Chapter Sixteen
Honey was laughing as she stepped through the front door, a huge purple panda in her arms. “I can’t believe you’re still pouting.”
“I am not pouting.” Fairly vibrating with insult, Ethan shut the door and flipped the deadbolt. “I just have no patience for cheaters.”
Honey folded her lips into a sober line and nodded. “Of course.”
He eyed her with suspicion. “You think I’m lying?”
“Oh, of course not. He was clearly cheating. Moving the basket somehow. Just because none of us could see it moving doesn’t mean he wasn’t doing it.”
Ethan scowled heavily enough that her heart gave a little skip, but she could see the twinkle in his eye. “Now you’re just humoring me.”
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