Page 10 of Under Pink Skies

Lucas waved me off with ayou know what I meangesture and I shrugged. Lucas and I weren’t close, not in the way Kameron and I had become. We butted heads more often than not. Kam joked it was because our personalities were too similar, but I disagreed.

I knew that people who didn’t know me thought I was a grumpy millennial trapped in a young adult’s body. Growing up the way I had didn’t make me particularly keen on getting to know people or letting them get close to me. The fact that Kameron knew me as well as he did had more to do with his persistence than my willingness to open up.

I barely knew anything about Lucas other than that he loved the gym and his transition out of the military had been abrupt. I had the feeling Lucas kept his true personality hidden behind jokes and deflections, and dealing with that kind of personality kept me on edge.

Kameron hadn’t planned on taking in any more strays outside of a professional capacity with Winding Road. But Kameron also wasn’t the guy to say no when one of his Marines called him and said he was in trouble. Lucas had never elaborated in front of me on what exactly that trouble was, and I knew better than to ask Kameron. He carried my secrets; it was only right for me to respect that he did the same for others.

So, we cleared the third bedroom, which we had used as our gym, moved the equipment into one of the farmhouse outbuildings, and welcomed Lucas into our ragtag family.

“You’re going to want to sit down for this,” Kameron said, pressing his tongue into his cheek to hold back a smile.

“We’re sitting,” I said, smirking behind my coffee mug as Lucas sat across from me, a white Gatorade in his hand. What kind of person willingly drankwhiteGatorade when there were at least four other color options? A psychopath, I quickly decided.

“What’s up?”

“We’re going to sponsor a local festival,” Kameron said, a broad smile brazen across his face as he looked to both of us for our reactions.

I returned the smile. Kameron’s excitement about his work, and Winding Road’s mission, was infectious. One couldn’t help being drawn into his energy.

“That sounds epic,” I said honestly. “Where’s the festival being held?”

Kameron’s smile faltered for the briefest of moments, and my eyebrows raised. It wasn’t like Kameron to be unsure of something he was this excited about. His excitement meant he was confident enough in whatever the thing was to even get excited about it.

“The festival is being put on by a neighboring county, and they’re looking for local businesses to be sponsors. Because we’ve had a recent influx of income, we were able to secure the top sponsorship spot. We’ll have a table at the vendor fair and the opportunity to partner with other small businesses in the host town. It’s the ideal way to put Winding Road on the map for people who don’t already know we’re here,” Kameron gushed. “It’s a big undertaking, and I know it’s not the best timing with the barn renovations, but I really think this could be a game changer for us. The organizers seemed confident that it’ll draw a huge crowd, considering the tourism wave that happens around here in the autumn months.”

“It’s a brilliant idea, Kam,” Lucas said, and his earnest tone surprised me. I didn’t think Lucas was an airhead, but he was often flippant in a way that got under my skin. And yet, every once in a while, his ability to peel back those ditzy outer layers impressed me.

“So, when’s the festival happening?” I asked.

Kam shifted in his seat. My eyes tracked the movement as unease slithered up my spine.

“Mid-October. I’ve got a contact in town.”

The vague answer, coupled with Kam’s awkward movements, sets me even further on edge.

“Which town, Kam?” I asked.

Kam blew out a breath and gave me a weak smile. My chest tightened painfully. Laketon County was fairly rural, and there was only one neighboring county that had a small town large enough to host a festival like this.

“Before you freak out, I didn’t know it was going to be held there when I said yes to the sponsorship opportunity, and at this point, we’re already locked into a contract.”

My hands shook. There were only a handful of places within two hours of us big enough to host something like this. My mind ran through all of them in rapid succession. Laketown was far too small. Westport was far too rural. And the last I’d heard about North Crest, the place was practically a ghost town. The pandemic and severe restrictions that impacted tours a few years back had done them in.

Which meant there was one town on this side of the county left to consider.

“What’s the name?” I said, grinding my teeth together, hard, as if that would somehow stop this from happening.

“Watford,” Kameron said, looking me in the eye. “The festival will be in Watford.”

I closed my eyes, grappling in the dark for the regulation tactics I’d walked through a thousand times.

“I wouldn’t have said yes if I’d known,” Kameron said. I met his eyes through my hazy vision. I hadn’t registered that he was reaching out for me, but the touch was grounding, nonetheless.

“It’s fine,” I said, shaking my head. Kam grimaced. “Itwillbe fine,” I quickly amended. “It’s just been a long time since I’ve been back.”

Over five years.

“Of course,” Kameron said earnestly, taking a long sip from his mug. “Whatever you need.”

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