“What do you need?” Stephen asked, motioning for me to follow him inside.
“She has the ropes for the booth. She told me she’d bring them by this morning.”
“Ah—of course. And she forgot. They’re in the garage.” He stopped in the hall and grabbed a keychain from the hooks on the wall. “You got your car?”
“Nah, I thought I’d toss them over my shoulder and walk them across town.”
He laughed. “I’ll load them into your trunk. Are you okay setting them up? The posts are pretty heavy.”
“I know. I’m the one who sets them up.” I grinned and moved to open the garage door. I heaved it up and over my head with it creaking as it moved. The garage flooded with light, and the dirty, old gold posts glinted in the sunlight.
“How do they get so filthy sitting in a garage?” Stephen mused, looking at one.
“I have no idea. They’re just plated.”
“Do you ever think that running the booth is more hassle than it’s worth?”
I snorted as I fingered one of the red ropes. “Every year. But I don’t have a choice—as long as I’m the champion, it’s my responsibility.”
“You can quit, you know.”
“I can’t. I like winning.” I grinned.
He laughed, moving one of the posts and looking at it. “Yeah, you get that from your mom. Hey, look—I can wash these off for you. I have the power washer. It’ll take me twenty minutes.”
I bit my lip. “Don’t you have things to do?”
“Yes, but it’s last month’s accounting, so…” He winked. “You can wait, or I can bring them down to the booth for you. Will I be able to drive over the ground?”
“Yeah, I can give you a pass. I have some in my car. Are you sure?”
“I’m sure, Halley. I need to take Zeus out soon anyway. Leave them with me and go and do what you need to do.”
“Thank you.” I gave him a one-armed hug with a gentle squeeze that he returned. “You’re the best.”
“Don’t mention it. Until your mother gets mad at me, that is.”
Laughing, I ducked out of the garage and pulled my keys from my pocket. “I’ll put it away with the rest of your favors!”
“Hey—how are the raccoons? Did that food tray help? I meant to call and ask.”
I grinned at the mention of my nightly visitors. Last year, we’d reached a truce when I’d started putting peanut butter sandwiches out on my porch for them in exchange for them leaving my trash the hell alone. They were also little thieves, and they’d stolen several of the metal food bowls I used for them. Stephen was a handy guy, and he’d made me a feeder that was now attached to my porch.
“Oh, yeah. Boris—he’s the boss—spent thirty minutes trying to get the bowls off the porch before he gave up. I think he enlisted the help of Betty, but she’s kinda lazy.”
“You know they become pets if you name them, don’t you?”
“Don’t try that. Mom attempted that when I was a kid and saved all the wildlife, but I still named them all.”
“I know, but I thought I’d give it a go.” He grinned. “I’m glad the bowl unit works. You go back to the booth, and I’ll get started here.”
“Thank you!” I grabbed him a pass from my car before I waved and got into my car before steering it out of the driveway. I headed back in the direction of the fairground. The traffic was light since the tourists didn’t come pouring in until the fair actually started, and I made it across my small hometown in mere minutes.
I waved at the officer who was guarding the entrance to the fairground. The young guy barely glanced at me, and I wondered what the point of the passes was if he wasn’t going to check them.
My car pottered over the uneven grass until I reached the booth. The huge, tatted purple velvet curtains were open, and a frown crossed my face as I pulled up in front of it.
I got out of my car, grabbing my bottle of water and purse, and walked to the tent. Nobody was supposed to be here except me today, and I knew I’d left the curtains drawn and the rope tied. “Hello?”
There was no answer.
I crept inside, slowly looking around. I couldn’t see anyone here—there weren’t exactly many hiding spaces in a tent where the interior was nothing other than a small wooden stage split by another horrid purple curtain.
I set my purse on one of the small tables that held all the paint for the sign and looked around again. Someone had definitely been there—there was an empty sandwich wrapper on one of the other tables, and I walked over to it like I was Sherlock freakin’ Holmes or something.
Fortunately, I didn’t need to pick it up. The rich scent of a meatball sub clung to the air around it, and I pursed my lips.
There was only one person I knew who ate meatball subs.
Preston Wright.
Great. That was exactly what I wanted. Him hovering around right now. Like I wasn’t going to be bad enough during the fair itself—the fact that he was supposed to help me set up had completely slipped my mind.
Now it was at the forefront.
At least the person who’d opened the tent was supposed to be doing it.
Jesus, this was going to be a disaster. How was I going to pull this off? How the hell was I supposed to sit with my back to him with nothing more than a curtain separating us, listening to him kissing other women? While I was kissing other men?
When he was the only person I actually had any desire to kiss?
This was going to be a nightmare.
In fact, it was my worst nightmare already. I had to spend the next forty-eight hours in close quarters with Preston getting everything set up, then more days listening to him smooching with people.
I didn’t know what was worse.
Being around him, or the kissing thing.
He was hard work. Not because he was annoying in a general sense, but because of how I felt about him. The frustrating way I felt about him was the bane of my existence, and no matter how hard I tried, I’d never been able to turn it off.
My attraction to him just simmered beneath the surface with feelings that I knew would never be requited.
Mayor’s daughter or not—I was still who I was, and that was far removed from his little world. His world consisted of sports bars and pretty dates and flashy watches and cars. My world was made of books and the Dewey decimal system and peanut butter sandwich eating raccoons.
The flashiest thing in my life was my grocery bill.
Now, I wasn’t putting myself down; I was being realistic. I was, in fact, a catch.
As long as you didn’t mind your catch coming with wild animals for pets, that was.
Ha.
Any man who wasn’t a fan of my little trash pandas wasn’t the man for me.
I shook off all the thoughts of my crush on Preston and looked around the tent. There was still so much to do to get set up, and it was just like him to come by, eat a sandwich, and fuck off again.
I ran my fingers through my loosely curled blonde bob and blew out a long breath. I’d knocked my glasses off-kilter with my thumb, so I straightened them and clicked my tongue.
I had no idea where to start.
A shadow came over the doorway, and a tall figure ducked his head to step into the tent.