Page 24 of Fairground

“Do you have any kids?” I cringe as soon as the words are out. “Sorry, that was super invasive. Ignore me.”

To my surprise, he just laughs. “Nah, it’s fine. No kids to my knowledge. Not sure if I’m cut out for fatherhood.” The way he looks at me when he says it? Yeah, I need a distraction. Fast.

“I see…” I trail off, following him as he gestures toward a folding table that’s been set up in the middle of the fairgrounds. The rides and attractions are starting to be installed to line the perimeter of the property, but for now, the rest of the place is empty.

“So, city girl, you got any ideas for a theme?” Cash asks, plopping down into one of the chairs. “I’m not great at this part. The creative idea for what to model the whole thing after, but people love a good theme that makes them feel they're seeing something special. Something for their social media pages, you know?”

I sit across from him, leaning my elbows on the table as I work through the ideas I’d been thinking over last night.

“I was thinking something likeAutumn Americana—hot dogs, popcorn, patriotism vibes. OrSouthern Spooktacular. Hauntedhouses, trick-or-treat booths, costumes, classic Halloween stuff. Maybe we even screen a spooky movie the first night?”

He rubs his beard again, nodding slowly. “I like it. The fair’s a few days long. Why don’t we split the themes? Friday can be all about Americana—pie-eating contests, bluegrass, military appreciation, the works. Then Saturday and Sunday can go full-on spooky vibes.”

I can’t help but smile as I pull out my phone. “That’s a great idea. Let’s iron this out because we need to meet with the rest of the committee later tonight.”

Chapter 10: Cash

“Excuse me,” Rae’s soft yet annoyed voice calls out over the crowded group that’s huddled beneath one of the large tents perched on the North Carolina State fairgrounds.

Even though the fair’s still a few weeks away, setting up the main event tents early has become a summer tradition—and a whole-town effort. This time of year, the fairgrounds double as a venue for farmers’ markets and weddings, so getting the tents up early works for everyone. Plus, since the fair committee’s meeting here today to finalize our theme and start decorating, the tents give us a little cover from the wind and the occasional autumn storm.

“Excuse me!” Rae’s voice cuts through the chatter, climbing a few octaves but no one pays her any mind.

The tent is alive with noise—people talking over each other, excitement bubbling about everything that’s coming up. Halloween parties, the fair, the welcome parade that ushers in the main event—it’s all anyone can think or talk about in our small town. And why wouldn’t they be excited? This is thebiggest event of the year for Whitewood Creek and the largest source of revenue for most of the business owners here.

I steal a glance at her and take my time studying the soft curves of her body that I can see underneath my coat that she’s still wearing. I’m guessing that my constant teasing about her usual all-black, witchy wardrobe got to her because for once, she’s switched her style up. Dark blue jeans and a matching shirt—still moody, but a change from the usual black-on-black. It makes me smile. Her chestnut brown hair falls loose around her shoulders, and she looks so damn cute trying to wrangle this loud, buzzing crowd that’s not paying her any mind.

I don’t know what it is about Rae, but I like her. My brothers would probably say I’ve never met a woman I didn’t like—and maybe there’s some truth to that. I’ve always appreciated a nice smile, pretty eyes, and a good personality. But no one’s ever held my attention for more than a fleeting one-night stand or a passing glance. Rae, though? She’s got me looking twice. Hell, maybe three times. I never thought I had a “type,” but seeing her now, I realize I most definitely do.

Soft curves in all the right places—big, round tits, a heart-shaped ass, and thick thighs that could probably crush me if I asked nicely. The thought of her sitting on my face crosses my mind, and dammit, I think I’d like it too much for her to be my rival in this mayoral race.

I subtly shift where I’m standing, adjusting so I don’t embarrass myself in front of the entire town planning committee with an unplanned boner. Rae lets out a frustrated sigh, her shoulders rising and falling, and something in me tightens. I hate seeing her like this—defeated—when she’s usually the one throwing verbal daggers and holding the room in the palm of her hand.

I clap my hands, stepping forward.

I’d planned to let her run the show today, give her the spotlight she’s more than earned. But clearly, this town needs a reminder: we’re both in charge here. And more importantly, her voice deserves their respect.

“Listen up, y’all!” I shout, my voice cutting through the chaos. The group instantly falls silent, and out of the corner of my eye, I catch Rae wincing at their response. Probably annoyed it took a man stepping in to quiet the crowd, but she’ll see—I’m not like most guys. I’ve got a little sister, Regan, who spent years whipping us boys into shape and showing us just how much more women know than us. I know how valuable women are. Hell, I respect them. I admire them.

I fuckinglovewomen.

And for some reason I’m hell bent on showing that to Rae.

I wait a beat, giving her the chance to take the reins if she wants to now that they’ve quieted down. When she doesn’t, I step forward again. No point in making things seem awkward between us for the sake of her pride.

“Alright, here’s the deal. Rae and I have agreed on this year’s theme. Since we’re working on a tight timeline, we’re proposing it now. All we need to hear are objections—if there are none, then y’all need to break into your groups and start planning decorations. Let’s act like we’ve done this before because we have. For decades. You know what needs purchased, you know where things get hung and what draws a crowd. Rae and I don’t need to hold your hands, but we do need to approve everything before it gets charged to the city budget so send us your final plans once you’re done.”

A wave of murmurs spreads through the group as I nod at Rae to take over. She’s biting down on the corner of her lip, probably wishing I’d just keep talking. But when I give her a wide smile,she steps up, her voice clear and confident as she rattles off the details of the two designs that we came up with an hour earlier.

To be fair, the ideas were hers. I’m just along for the ride and whatever she needs. Colt, Regan and Lawson are the artistic ones of the family, but Troy and I are the doers. Come up with a plan and I'll execute the heck out of it.

I’m distracted today. Can’t help it—my head keeps circling back to this morning. We lost four of our oldest hens. My most loyal girls. They’d stopped laying a while back, just living out their retirement in peace like they deserved. Still, it hit me harder than I expected. I know it’s the natural order of things, part of the cycle, but damn if it didn’t pull at something in me.

It always does.

I remember when I first got them—tiny, fragile things that fit in the palm of my hand. That was nearly ten years ago now, which is wild to think about. They were my first batch that I was running solo on, when I was still trying to figure out who I was without all the noise.

Back then, I was chasing all the wrong things. Late nights, good whiskey, women I had no business spending time with and used as nothing more than a distraction. My priorities were as scattered as my sleep schedule. I didn’t care about anything lasting. I definitely didn’t see myself here—still in town, raising birds, carefully collecting their eggs, and finding more peace in the early morning quiet than I ever did in a packed bar.

---