Page 31 of The County Fair Queen

"Well," she said, setting her teacup on the end table. "I'm a woman of equality. You can't fault me for supporting gay rights."

"Never mind the fact that gay marriage had already been legal for six years."

"I don't understand what that has to do with anything. I didn't then, and I still don't."

"So," Jordan interrupted, staring at Rivers. "You'll help?"

"This is what you want?" Rivers said, staring at me.

There was literally nothing in the world I wanted less than to pretend to fall for Rivers, but it seemed we didn't have much of a choice. "I… I'd really appreciate it, Riv."

Rivers rested his hand on my knee and squeezed. "It would be my honor, Firecracker."

Chapter Seven

DEAR RIVERS' ASSHOLE, WOULD YOU CARE TO MEET MY TONGUE?

When we arrived in town the next morning, the square was packed. Though the festival didn't kick off for another three hours, it seemed like everyone and their dog had shown up early; probably to catch sight of the prodigal queer.

Brenda/Carole and the crew were setting up by the stage, and when our eyes met, she flashed me a smile. A few feet away, Rivers and his son were deep in conversation. Beau seemed like a sassy little thing, judging by his current attire. He was wearing a shiny pink sports coat over his Muscadine Madness t-shirt. His maroon slacks were glossy in appearance, and there were gaudy purple gemstones down the seams. Rivers, as usual, had dressed conservatively in a pair of slacks and a button-down shirt. The only thing keeping him from looking like a glorified bank teller was his necktie selection. It was a bright baby-blue with magentahearts scattered across the fabric. At their ankles, their pet piglet—attempted murderer Fudge Rivera—rubbed his snout against a partially eaten fried turkey leg. To my amusement, the little porker was decked out in a glorious ensemble, just like Beau. Beau had somehow strategically placed a tiara on Fudge’s head. The piglet was also wearing what appeared to be a pearl necklace which was latched to a small, bedazzled leash. A rainbow tutu completed the outfit to perfection.

Beau was glaring at his father like the man had just committed some grievous sin, his eyes narrowed, jaw tense. The boy's high-pitched squeals were audible from halfway across the city square. As we approached, his words came through fast, and they came through harsh.

"But you promised," Beau yelled. "You said we'd get to ride the Ferris wheel."

"We will, buddy," Rivers said, raking his fingers through his son’s hair. An action the young boy clearly wasn't fond of, as he slapped his father's hand away and scowled up at him.

"Don't touch the hair!" He pulled his phone out of his pocket and fiddled with his hair, staring at his reflection in the camera app. He drew in a deep breath, closed his eyes, paused, and released. "Still cute."

I'd never been particularly fond of children. Not of their terrible manners or dirty hands. Not of the slobber and snot that chronically coated their faces. Certainly not for their tendency to talk back. This one seemed alright, though.

"I wanna go up high. You said we could go up high."

"We will. I promise," Rivers said.

"When?"

"Not long. There are just a few final preparations before we get the show on the road. Once those are done and we get you some breakfast, I've got the ribbon cutting. After that, I'll take you on all the rides you want."

Beau didn't agree to the counteroffer, choosing instead to kneel at Fudge's side and press a sloppy kiss against his forehead.

"He's fabulous," Jordan said to me.

"He's certainly something," I said. Behind Rivers, Brenda/Carole gave me two thumbs up, letting me know we were good to go. With the cameras capturing the moment, I approached Rivers with a fake smile plastered on my face.

"Mr. Mayor," I greeted, trying to make my voice sound affectionate. As soon as he spotted me, it was like the sun's focus was aimed directly at me. The world's grandest spotlight lighting me up. Our eyes met, and there was a slight fluttering in my chest that I couldn't quite explain.

"Firecracker," he said, approaching and pulling me in for a hug. "I’m really glad you could make it."

"Yes," I said, taking a step back and straightening my perfectly pressed shirt with my hands. "Well, I'm the main attraction. I didn't have much of a choice." Shit. Why was 'unnecessarily catty' my default setting? I might not have known much about romance, but I was pretty sure you didn't win a man over by repeatedly insulting him. Sure, shame kinks existed, but you couldn't forge a relationship—real or imaginary—by indulging the shamesters, could you? I turned and stared at Brenda/Carole. There was a mic clipped to my shirt, so I knew she could hear me through her earpiece. "Sorry, that was terrible. Do you want to try it again from the top?"

She gave a rousing nod of approval.

"You," I said, poking Rivers in the chest. "I blame you for this. I don't know how or why, but I do." Whirling around on my heel, I took ten steps back and reentered the shot with a smile so wide it made my jaw ache. "Mr. Mayor," I cooed at him.

"Firecracker," he said again, snorting softly. "Thanks for coming."

"Thanks for having me," I said, pulling him in for a hug.

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