“Me?” I try to sound surprised, but it doesn’t take a genius to know what this is likely about.
“Yep. Sheriff Green was seen taking someone who has been described remarkably like you home last night. In fact, you’re still wearing the same clothes as what was described, the very same I saw you in last night.” She raises an eyebrow while I flush in embarrassment. Not that what my clothes say didn’t happen. I did do a sort of walk of shame. It just happened far too soon after I walked into his house, and not the next morning.
“Coincidence,” I lie.
“Really? Is it also a coincidence that he was the one who dropped you off at my parents’ hotel last night? Or that he came in early this morning, wanting to know your room number? Or that he stormed out, furious, when I informed him that I had to turn you away last night?”
I file that away in my internal filing system under “me not giving a shit” and decide to out myself. It isn’t like there is much to hide, especially when she seems to know most of it anyway.
“I might have been fucked by your town sheriff, and then dumped faster than a disease-ridden jockstrap.”
She winces at my words. Hell, even I do. Last night wasn’t a pretty situation, but that description is damn ugly.
“Well, that won’t do.”
I frown, not liking the determined look on her face. “Won’t do?”
“I have a bet going on with my friend Macy. She thinks Sheriff Green will be a bachelor for life, and I think he just needs the right person to knock him off his feet.”
“And you think I’m the one to do that?” I shake my head, a laugh bubbling out of me. “The man might be hot, but he is clearly not interested in me.”
“He’s not ever inquired after one of his flings before.”
Is that what I am? A fling?
It’s a shame my first adventure fling ended up being so cold-hearted.
“I was almost carjacked last night. I’m sure all he wanted was to speak to me about that. You’re reading into things. I’m afraid I’m not a unicorn.”
“You were almost carjacked?” she gasps, looking honestly stricken.
“I don’t really want to talk about it. To be honest, I really just want to get out of this town and move on.”
Her shocked expression morphs into a disappointed one. “Most people do. We’re fun for a weekend, not for life.” She sounds sad as she says this, and even though I don’t know her, I instantly want to take back my words and make her feel better.
“I don’t mean anything personal by that,” I try to assure her. It isn’t her fault, or the towns, that I’ve had a truly shitty experience here.
“Then let me prove that our town can be fun.” She holds her hands out in front of her in a pleading position, her eyes begging as much as the action of her hands.
Damn, those eyes are seriously hard to turn down. Is she part doe?
“You must be tired—you worked all night!”
“I have insomnia. I don’t so much work at my parents’ hotel as I pitch in on nights when I’m not sleeping. I figure I might as well be useful.”
“I hardly see making sure I have some fun is a valuable use of your time.”
“It is when my aunt is the town mayor.”
I snort. “Is everyone who lives here some sort of relation to you?”
She rolls her eyes, grabbing the extra fork that was left with my plate, since the waitress undoubtedly assumed there is no way I would be stupid enough to order so much food for just myself. She is absolutely unhesitant as she begins eating from the other side of my plate, not bothering to take small pieces this time.
“I bet I can make you realize that this town is actually pretty cool before the end of the day.”
“What’s in it for you exactly?” I sound as wary as I feel. I get the feeling that, even though I told her that her sheriff was most definitely not interested in me for the reasons she thought, deep down, she might be hoping to match-make a happy ending.
“Well, I want you to see that Midsummer isn’t some sleepy, boring town, and I also want you to upload a video of your time here.”
“Video?”
“Yes, I follow your Instagram, and I love your videos on YouTube. I might not look like I’ve seen the outside of this town, but we do have this wondrous thing called the internet.”
I snort. “So far, my experience hasn’t been great.” Other than the great sex that shall remain tainted by the after show.
“Which is why I want to show you a different side of this town and a different day. You record and see if there is anything you’d like to turn into a video for your followers.”
“And then what?”
“Then we’ll be on the map. My aunt has been desperate for us to gain more attention. She wants us to expand. She wants us to have more tourist traffic. She wants us to be the destination, not just a stop to somewhere else.”
“That is a lot to expect from one little video.”
“We’ll see.” Love has a cocky smile on her lips, which I don’t understand, until she seems to crack under my intense stare. “Maybe a certain sheriff might give you more reason to stay.”
“You think I want to stay here?” I gasp, not even willing to humor the part about the sheriff, even though a ringing voice sounds through my mind saying, “I told you so.”
“What I think is that I want to show you our world famous Midsummer Memorabilia Museum.” Her smile doesn’t waver under what has to be a joke.
It is a joke, right?
A museum is what she wants to show me? Is what she thinks will win me over?
“You want to take me to a museum?”
Her smile doesn’t falter under my less than enthusiastic tone. “Trust me.”
“I don’t even know you.”
“I’m Love Fuller, or as my dad says, I’m full of love. I’m twenty-five. I’m a reporter for our local newspaper, the Midsummer Chronicle, by day, writing headlines which range from Ms. Joy Lottie’s Pumpkins Win First Prize in State Pumpkin Pie Contest, to Henry Prince Surprises Delighted Fans by Turning up at Midsummer’s Annual Founder’s Parade.” She gives me a cheeky wink after that one.
“You said that last one was a rumor.”
“It’s my job to know the difference between a rumor and fact, just like I know that Sheriff Green was not only after you this morning because of some incident involving a car thief.”
I roll my eyes at her ignorance while also intrigued by the chance of seeing Henry Prince. That would be worth staying in the town for a little while longer.
“Right, well, if you do want me to stay in town, then I’m going to need a bed to sleep in.”
“I’ll see what I can arrange. But first, let’s go see this museum.”
“Actually, first, I need a shower and a change of clothes. I’m not going to appear on my socials having not showered for two days and in clothes I had ripped off me before they were thrown back in my face to get me to leave.”
Love winces, giving me an apologetic look. “Sheriff Green is known for his discretion when it comes to the sexual partners he chooses. They’re usually out-of-towners and there is never any drama. He leaves to do his thing, and then he returns and goes about his life.”
“That sounds incredibly cold. Also, how much discretion can he have if the entire town knows this?”
“They know he doesn’t date, they know he doesn’t fuck around with anyone here, and they know he keeps everything professional. He’s hugely popular with the public, knows everyone by name, and has a charm that wins everyone over. He keeps his dalliances strictly low-key and often only in nearby towns. Picking you up last night was an anomaly. A very interesting one, but one out of the norm. This intrigues me.”
“First of all, who the hell even says dalliances anymore? You said you were twenty-five, but are you actually an eighty-year-old woman? And secondly, you seem to know a lot about your sheriff’s love life. You sure you’re not in love with him?”
Sh
e scoffs, and there is no faking the grossed-out look on her face. “No way! His sister was my best friend in school. I’ve grown up with him being an annoying, overprotective, older brother to me. Besides, I’m demisexual, and I’ve never felt anything for him in the realm of sexual energy.” Before I can comment of this news bomb, she continues on after stealing the last bite of my pancake. “Besides, right now, I’ve match-made eight couples in my side business of pointing-out-the-fucking-obvious to people. I’m looking forward to you guys becoming couple number nine.”
I narrow my eyes on her, ready to argue that she’s dreaming if she thinks she can set up anything with me and the sheriff, but she again quickly continues before I can butt in.
“Also, I think there is nothing wrong with the word dalliances. I bet if I could make Henry Prince say it, then you’d think it was cool.”
She’s probably right about that, so I decide to focus on something else.
“You’re demisexual?”
“Yes, and if you stick around, I’ll even chat more to you about that. For now, do you want me to show off this beautiful town that I already know you’re going to love? Or, perhaps you want me to share some more gossip on our very eligible sheriff?”
“Didn’t you promise to show me a boring museum or something?” I quickly respond, hoping I don’t regret spending more time in this town than I already have.
She smirks in a cocky, knowing way, but she doesn’t push the sheriff thing further. As an alternative to the museum, though, she takes me back to my car where I grab my overstuffed duffel bag, and then she leads the way back to the hotel and behind it to the cottage that she lives in. She shows me to her spare room, and I eye the bed, fully tempted to take a quick nap.
Resisting, I take a shower, finally feeling clean for the first time in way too long. Once I have clean clothes on, my outlook on life and this town improves dramatically.
I eye myself in the mirror, wincing at the dark rings under my eyes and the too pale skin. Then I lift my hand up to feel the stubble over my lower face, considering how bothered I am to grab my razer. I’m always clean-shaven, but since I’m still exhausted, I decide the energy it would take to remove it might be too much.
“Keep the scruff. I think it looks cute on you,” Love advises just as she passes the bathroom.
I eye the slightly darker blond hair over my face and decide shaving can wait for later. Besides, I apparently have a museum to go to and somehow get some video of the experience that doesn’t involve me falling asleep. That is, after I fangirl over Love’s childhood bedroom and throw myself on top of the made bed, reenacting the scene Jodie Wood completely owned years prior.
Love laughs at my antics, while I surprise myself by remembering every line in that scene. I haven’t seen that movie in years.
Once we’re outside, I take some scenery shots of the small town, realizing how beautiful it is through the scope of the camera on my phone. Mountains frame the backdrop, and the olden style architecture and friendly smiles of the public make for some nice outlay shots.
It appears that most people get around town by walking. It’s easier and you get to experience all the shops along the way. Love informs me that only locals drive through the town center, and it’s to get out of the tourists’ hair that take up all the sidewalks and are never in any sort of rush.
I don’t find the unhurriedly moving public annoying, and Love’s constant narration of stories that she either recalls herself or repeats from stories passed down make this town seem more charming than closed off.
I meet plenty of local shop owners, all of whom are more than happy for me to film in their stores. Then Love and I race toy cars in Monster Toy Trucks, and we have an entire conversation with each other by grabbing random books and reading the first line that our eyes land on, which gets us a few strange looks and one hilarious conversation at Read or Die.
Our final stop before we reach the museum is a sweet shop aptly called Sweets For My Sweet, where Love insists I must have a raspberry pop slushy. It possibly has some sort of drug inside it because, not only is it delicious and I get an instant brain freeze when I suck in too much too fast, but I suddenly have enough energy that I’m buzzing like I just had a triple espresso.
If I was drugged, then I’m not the only one.
Love and I sprint like little kids into the museum, and my eyes just about pop out of my head once we get inside. The building on the outside looks ordinary and not even that big, but inside, it appears endless.
Beautiful statues of actors and actresses line the outer wall, along with photos hung on the wall of the real life person standing in front of local landmarks. Memorabilia from the movies that they shot and filmed here fill up the large space, and I become fascinated as I read the unknown trivia and facts that are attached to each item.
I’m impressed by the movies represented here, but I am blown away by the interactive games. Like a conversation I’m able to have with a robotic Harper Dove, famous for her portrayal in the sci-fi alien invasion movie that came out only two years earlier. No matter what I ask, including the questions of what is the meaning of life (to be happy) or does this mole look weird to you (Doctor Espinoza, whose clinic is just down the block, is accepting new patients), nothing stumps her. It’s eerie and so totally cool.
The film at the end of the tour talks about the town’s long history in film, which is incredibly cool, as is the terrifying ending, where the seats we’re sitting on suddenly stand up, our legs now dangling over the side, as if there is a hidden person underneath them. Although, logically, I eventually accept that it’s just robotics. Then we’re joltingly walked to the exit while I scream like a small child, and small children in the same cinema laugh, like this is the best thing in the world. They might not be traumatized, but I’m definitely never looking at another cinema seat the same again.
Once I’m off the robotic chair and have managed to get Love to stop her howling laughter over my wimpy reaction, which she tells me she got on camera, we make it out in time to see the Founder’s Parade has just started.
Love takes plenty of photos, chatting happily with people around us and making notes in her phone.
I assume she must be covering the event and wonder why she risked missing it by hanging out with me. This must be a big event for the town, so missing it would be a big deal.
Glancing around, I stare at what has to be hundreds of people lining the streets. Several floats are moving by at the speed of a snail, speakers have been set up and are blasting marching music, and I notice several food and beverage stalls farther down the street. The smell of hot fries wafts over me, and I consider moving down that way to get some food, but something snags my attention across the street.
Waiting impatiently as a weird-looking rabbit slash alligator mascot slowly makes his way in front of my view, I then find what caught my eye and almost immediately my brain short circuits.
Henry Prince is standing in all his handsome glory, surrounded by people who are acting like wearing a baseball cap really does make you invisible.
And his eyes are on me.
Wow!
I almost stop breathing from just having all that heat in his eyes directed at me. He’s as hot in person as he is on screen, too, with his gaze piercing, his body a perfect specimen, and yeah … his eyes are most definitely on me.
Shit, what do I do? Do I wave? No, that would be lame. Should I nod? Wait—that might look weird. What the hell do I do?
Henry lifts his hand in front of him, and then he points a finger right at me before waving me over to him.
Oh. My. God. What the hell? Is this seriously happening?
I manage one step forward, not even caring that there is a damn parade going on between us and that I should at the very least check to see what’s coming in case I get run over by some other ridiculous float. But the one step is all I manage before a hand drops onto my shoulder, halting my movement.
I glance along the muscled arm to the
person it belongs to, brought up short by Sheriff Asshole.
My body reacts in a traitorous way having him close and touching me. After the best sex of my life last night, I can hardly blame myself for my body’s reaction, even if my head is clearly still recalling the shit that went down afterward. But having him close, seeing him in a freaking sheriff uniform, and finding that the man looks even hotter wearing it, all thoughts of Henry Prince are lost.
Now my full attention shifts to the man who is eyeing me in what looks like anger.
He’s angry at me? Why?
“You were meant to meet me at the station this morning,” Sheriff Asshole practically barks.
“Hello to you, too, Sheriff,” I sweetly say, giving him a smile just because I think it might annoy him. However, given his eyes immediately narrow on my lips, I can’t tell if I’ve annoyed him or turned him on.
“I need to reschedule a time with you to get your statement,” he growls. “This is nonnegotiable,” he quickly adds when he correctly reads my argument to this demand.
“Rocky! It’s so good to see you!” Love gushes, grabbing his arm and pulling him down until he’s within kissing distance since, as soon as she can, she presses a quick peck to his cheek. That seems a little close to me, but then again, maybe that greeting is standard in small towns.
Besides, did she just call him Rocky? As in, those boxing movies?
“Good to see you, too, kid,” he mutters, glancing over her once in a way that looks more about making sure she’s in one piece than anything else.
“I’m not a kid anymore! I grew up and became an adult. See?” She holds up her phone full of notes. “I’m adulting right now.”
“You’re missing the main part.” He nods back toward the road, and she squeals as a float approaches, one that has barrels all around it and a massive glass full of what has to be several gallons of beer inside. Or cider? Surely they wouldn’t have actual alcohol here. This is a kids’ event, or at least kid-friendly, since there must be several dozens of kids along the street.
“Apart from the movies being filmed here making us famous, we also have the finest brewery in the country just west of our town,” he explains, his eyes still stuck on the float.
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