Page 15 of Wild Hearts

“Like I knew it wouldn’t.”

We reach the front of the line as she finishes, and I wave off her money as a funnel cake large enough to share appears along with two frozen lemonades.

It may be a little chilly for the icy drink, but you can’t go to the Apple Fest without splurging on Miss Patty’s Rose Lemonades. They’re a carnival staple that look and taste like strawberry lemonade but are made with the orchard’s Hidden Rose Apples.

Grace grabs the warm funnel cake while I carry our drinks to an empty picnic table in a quieter corner of the grassy lot where the festival is held.

“Thanks for this, by the way.” Grace holds up a bite of funnel cake. “This is our second of the night, but I’m not mad about it.”

“Happy to help you exceed your sugar quota for the day.” Besides, if it keeps her by my side, I’ll buy as many funnel cakes as she wants. “So, what’s your story?”

“What do you mean?” The words are guarded as her shoulders stiffen.

Her immediate apprehension is a surprise, and I’m not exactly the most forthcoming guy when it comes to talking about myself.

But that’s me—a man used to being judged for my family and my youthful mistakes. What does Grace have to worry about?

“You don’t have to share anything you’re uncomfortable with,” I say, hoping to put her at ease. “I just meant why did you move here? What do you do? The usual questions when getting to know someone.”

“Oh, right… Of course.” A scarlet blush blooms with her self-conscious laugh. “Things were stagnant back home, so I made a change. My friend Avery lives here and hooked me up with a job interview. Now, I work at Casey & Sons as a paralegal.”

Fuck Casey.

That explains how she got tangled up with Kayla.

“Your turn. Tell me about Wes Gallagher, since I’m not sure how much truth was in Kayla’s description,” she mumbles around the straw of her lemonade.

“Absolutely zero, I bet.” Dropping my hand below the table top, I let Shadow sniff my fingers before licking away the powdered sugar.

I need this guy on my side when it comes to Grace, and bribing him seems like a wise move. It’s definitely better than having him growl at me like he did at the park.

“I’m a local. My mom lives in Arizona with her third husband, and my dad lives alone in the house I grew up in. I worked at Dusty’s for years before the previous owner agreed to sell it to me.” This is where I pause, contemplating how much to share before deciding to bite the bullet. In this town, it’s impossible to keep secrets anyway.

“You’ve probably heard that I’ve been to jail.”

She nods, sitting straighter on the picnic bench. Wariness enters her eyes..

I get it but still fucking hate it.

Dragging a hand through my hair, I sigh. “Contrary to the rumors, I’ve only been there once. For a night. The sheriff locked me up for underaged drinking and was trying to teach me a lesson…” And boy did I learn one. A sly grin loosens the straight line of my mouth as I recall that time in my life. “I learned to be more careful and not get caught.”

Grace chuckles and shakes her head in mock disapproval. “Why do they act like you’re a violent ex-convict that will act out at any moment?”

“It’s a small town. Everything gets blown out of proportion. Add the fact that I was born poor white trash and started a lot of brawls growing up, you end up with me being a dangerous felon. But all of those fights were against assholes who thought they could insult me without consequence because mommy and daddy were members of the country club.”

Exhibit A: Kayla Casey, formerly Kayla Rhodes.

Exhibit B: Andrew and Brandon Casey.

“I’m sorry for how they treat you.” She reaches across the table to squeeze my forearm, and I wish like hell we were skin to skin rather than my stupid long-sleeved tee blocking contact.

“No need to apologize. Their behavior only matters when it affects what I want.” I stare into her blue eyes, the pretty color full of empathy. Flipping my arm over, my fingertips brush along her exposed wrist. “And right now, I want to know what you’re thinking. Am I an irredeemable bastard?”

Grace fidgets in her seat, her chest rising and falling with each quick breath. She wraps a curl around her finger and tugs as her teeth nibble on her bottom lip.

“No, I would never think that.” The words are soft but firm. “You’re a good man, Wes. You helped me out of a jam with my car, and tonight you rescued me from what was about to turn into a pity party.”

“Good may be pushing it, considering the thoughts I’ve had about you, but I’ll take it.” Reading the question on her face, I wink. “Trust me, they’re not appropriate for a family-friendly carnival.”

---