Page 2 of Stripped Down at the Fair

“Can I keep it?” he asked.

I frowned. “Keep what?”

He didn’t take his eyes off me, but he shifted his hands to rustle the paper a little. That was the exact moment a big raindrop hit my forehead, and I realized all around us, peoplewere preparing for a storm while we just stood there, staring at each other.

“Sure,” I said. “That one’s on me.”

His eyebrows rose, but he said nothing. Instead, he smiled as he began rolling up the page. Then he slapped it against his hand before walking off, leaving me standing on the dirt-covered walkway between the broken-down Tilt-a-Whirl and the cupcake table, trying to process exactly what had just happened.

2

DUSTIN

The Tilt-A-Whirl hadn’t malfunctioned. Two whole days, and it was plugging along just fine.

I’d been tempted to go back and break it again, just to have a reason to hang out near the beautiful artist’s booth. Her picture of me might have been on the goofy side, but I’d glanced at some of the other caricatures fairgoers were carrying around. She’d definitely drawn me more attractively than she drew anyone else. She’d made my body less wimpy with well-defined muscles and a squared jaw.

Did that mean she was attracted to me? Was she drawing me as she saw me? I sure as hell hoped so.

“Dustin, we need you.”

The voice of my boss rang out, reminding me I was on the job. This guy was my boss on the construction crew where I normally worked. I’d volunteered to help out with the carnival for a change of scenery.

If I had to be honest, life in Sweetheart Bend had me pretty restless. Something was missing. I just wasn’t sure what, but I traced it back to my military days. I’d moved from placeto place, never quite putting down roots anywhere, so I was uncomfortable with things being so…predictable.

“Yes, sir,” I said, standing up and turning to face him.

That was me—always jumping to attention. That also had to do with my military training. Old habits died hard.

“Tilt-a-Whirl’s acting up again,” he said.

My boss’s wife was on the city council, and that was exactly why he’d volunteered to help out here, and I’d jumped in to help him. To his credit, he’d done his fair share of the work, but he heavily relied on me for things he saw as beneath his pay grade.

“You fixed it the other day, didn’t you?” he asked.

I nodded. “Yup.”

I’d fixed it, alright. Worked on it for a couple of hours. Finally got it up and running again. The workers who’d been assigned to the task didn’t seem to know what they were doing, and that slowed me down considerably. Once they got out of my way, I finished the job in less than fifteen minutes.

“I’m on it,” I said, hoping my excitement didn’t show on my face.

This would give me a good reason to see the caricature artist again. Those plump pink lips had stayed on my mind since the first time I saw her. I pretended not to notice her, but I’d kept an eye on her while I worked. When I found out she’d been drawing me all along, I was happier than I should’ve been.

I’d done everything I could to see her again, but our timing was off. Every time I breezed by her booth, she was gone. The one time I found her in her seat, she was deep in her work, drawing a young girl seated across from her.

But today, I was in luck. As I approached the Tilt-A-Whirl, I saw her sitting, staring down at her phone. Nobody was around, aside from the cupcake vendors to her right and someone selling vapes to her left.

I shifted my toolbelt and kept my gaze focused on the ride I’d be fixing. It was broken down, with a line of about twenty people jutting out from its entrance.

“I bet that guy can fix it,” someone called out as I approached.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the beautiful artist look up. Her hair was in a ponytail today—not pulled back in a bun like the first time I’d seen her. It looked like she’d curled it, which made it bounce as she turned in my direction.

“I’ll see what I can do,” I called out to the guy.

Now everyone in line was looking at me. How did I break the bad news to them?

“It might be a while,” I blurted. “Maybe go ride something else and come back.”

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