Page 3 of Wild Fated Mate
Big? Yep. Big boobs, big butt, big thighs.
Blonde? Yep. Assuming I’m dumb because of my hair color doesn’t make me the idiot.
Dumb? Nope. I just don’t see the world the way most people do. Some equate happiness with idiocy. As if I’m so blissfully ignorant of world events I can afford to be cheerful, but their vigilant attention to bad news gives them an IQ boost. I read the news, I don’t wallow in it. Good is everywhere. You just have to look.
But to have all this attention as the crowd around the stage grew…a soft whimper escaped my lips.
I risked a peek, but none of the people around me noticed my distress. Except one.
Gavin Walker stood all the way at the other end of the stage, looking at me.
If “looking” was a laser focused scan that burned a hole straight through me, ricocheting around my rib cage, leaving fluttery tingles in its wake. How had he heard me from where he stood?
His gaze met mine for one hot second before he broke contact to glare at the people around me. It’s not like they were responsible for me feeling upset. Even if they were, what did he care?
There was no way Gavin cared about me. So why was he up here?
He doesn’t like you. I had enough evidence of that. The fire season had already started when I moved to Wild Mountain to set up my accounting business more than a year ago. I became good friends with Olivia and adored her girls. And every time I talked to her, she told me stories about her brother. Gavin’s heroics on the fireground, the way he shielded her from the worst of their parent’s split, the work he put into the bakery. When I met Olivia he’d already been gone, deployed further west for the wildfire season. When she started telling me how handsome he was, I saw the matchmaking on the wall. But then we met in person, and the fairy tale ended. No one likes to remember the moments that make you cringe. This one had mostly stopped stinging with time.
His dark gaze scanned me up and down before he froze. My hand stretched out to shake his, as he stood in the bakery, still smelling of smoke and musk. Olivia’s laughter trailed off as she realized he wasn’t getting closer, wasn’t reaching out to take my hand. My heart sank as he turned and walked out.
It was silly, anyway. To get my hopes up like that. Olivia had finally stopped apologizing after I snapped at her one day. It wasn’t her fault. It was just—for a second—when Gavin’s eyes met mine for the first time, I physically felt a connection. Like we really were meant to be.
So here I am, single, up on stage, ready to be matched with a stranger to raise money for charity. And right now, I’m praying to get matched to anyone but Gavin.
“Howdy, folks!”
The crowd gathered around the stage hollered back at the Honorable Jimmy Flowers, County Judge, local farmer, and emcee for this crazy charity event.
“Welcome to our seventy-fourth Summer Harvest Festival! And our one-hundred and ninth handfasting!”
The crowd went crazy, their catcalls and whistles rang out across the fields dotted with colorful tents, echoing around the carnival rides and games.
I cut my eyes to Gavin’s end of the stage, where he winced as if in pain.
I was on this stage because Carrigan and Carissa asked me to fill in for their mom. But why was Gavin here? The way my heartbeat sped up seeing him on stage meant the part of me that believed in fairytales wasn’t as buried as I thought. I adored the twins, but they could be troublemakers. It was the only way to explain why he was here. And actually looking at me.
“If there’s any visitors to our festival who don’t know how this works, lemme break it down real quick.” Jimmy gestured to the twenty people crazy enough to participate in the event.
“Handfasting was a test drive, if you will, where a couple would stay together for a year and a day, and tried life out as though they’d gotten hitched for real?—”
More catcalls and whistles erupted.
Gavin winced again. He was so big and strong; he stood head and shoulders above the rest of the people lined up next to him.
It was impossible to miss the way the loud responses seemed to bother him. But, that couldn’t be right; he was a forestry firefighter—a hotshot—and didn’t they work with loud equipment like helicopters and shouting at each other on the fire line and stuff? He should be used to this kind of noise.
Jimmy held up a hand to quiet down the crowd. “But if both parties decided to go their separate ways on the final day, they could. No hurt feelings.”
“It’s an old custom that’s not practiced much anymore. It was part of a harvest celebration, and while nobody around here does that kind of handfasting, we sure have fun with it on this part of Wild Mountain.”
Jimmy’s wife, Katie, stepped forward, a woven wooden basket in one hand and a ball of string in the other. “In this basket are all the names of every adult up here. They’re all donating their time and being real good sports about spending the next twenty-four hours of their lives tied to a stranger.” Katie’s eyes sparkled. “Of course, after that long, you’re not strangers anymore!”
Jimmy wrapped his free arm around his wife and kissed her cheek. “And if you’re lucky, they might do you the honor of marrying you for real.”
The crowd made a collective “awwwwww” at the genuine affection and love shining from Jimmy and Katie.
“So, here’s how it works. My lovely assistant here will draw names from the basket. Each person up here is representing a charity. Besides the handfasting, there are games for each couple to compete in. In the case of more than one couple lasting all twenty-four hours tied together, points made during the games determine our winners.”
