Page 35 of The County Fair Queen

"I've wanted to hold your hand for years, Riv," I said, directly into the microphone clipped to my shirt. But the sincerity of the words took me by surprise.

We walked away from Minnie's and headed toward the stage. Center stage, Albert-slash-Leopold, the banner hanging bastard, and Danvers, the diabolical dick tease, were each holding the edge of an oversized red ribbon. A crowd had already formed, and the stale stench of sweat wafted along the breeze. Most of the food trucks had been going all morning, so the body odor was somewhat masked by the scent of funnel cakes and fried turkey legs. Rivers made his way on stage, stopping when he reached the podium. He opened a file folder sitting on top and shuffled through the papers, preparing for his speech.

Jordan approached from the crowd, leaning against me and resting his head on my shoulder. "Everything go okay with Beau?"

"He's on board," I said. On stage, Rivers turned around, saying something to Danvers.

"Are you okay?"

"Just nervous, I guess."

"I figured." He pulled a small tin can from his pocket. There was a marijuana leaf engraved on the lid, and as he unscrewed it, the emblem spun hypnotically. He pulled a small orange gummy from the container and quirked a brow at me. "I swiped these out of your father's pocket when I grabbed his arse earlier. Microdose. Only half. Just enough to help, not enough to hinder."

Grabbing the gummy, I feigned an overdrawn yawn, popping it into my mouth as I pretended to cover my mouth. The flavor exploded on my tongue; passion fruit and strawberry with an earthy aftertaste that always clung to the tongue for far too long.

"You just popped the entire thing, didn't you?"

"I don't know what the hell you're talking about."

"Yeah, well, when you fall flat on your face, I don't want to hear you complain. Not a single word."

Rivers still had his back to us, putting his ass on full display. His hip was cocked to the side, and it seemed like he was arching his back to make the already larger-than-life orbs appear twice as voluptuous.

Rivers glanced over his shoulder, his cheeks darkening when he caught me staring at his ass. Danvers was droning on about something, but Rivers' eyes remained locked on mine. A smile spread across his face, and he waggled his eyebrows.

'You look like an idiot,' I mouthed.

"You have an unhealthy obsession with his arse," Jordan said. "Any time he's in the room, your eyes are hot-glued to his glutes."

"He's my fake boyfriend. I'm allowed to stare."

"You're not even a top. What are you going to do with it? Write it a love letter?"

"I could," I mused. "I've been told I'm a good songwriter, I'm sure I could manage a letter."

"Dear Rivers' arsehole," he started, holding his hand to his heart and staring longingly into the sky. "Would you care to meet my tongue?"

"You're—"

"Fired," he interrupted. "I know. And if you don't get up there soon, I won't be the only one out of a job." I followed his gaze and realized Rivers was staring at me with a frown. He had an arm held out, urging me forward. He was going to have to wait. Jordan's insubordination took priority.

"I'm bribing the attendant to lock you on the Ferris wheel tonight. Good luck sleeping in a rickety old cart."

"No worries. I'll just cuddle up to your father until they get us down in the morning. I promise, you don't have to call me Dad after we're married."

Rivers brought the microphone to his mouth. "Please give a round of applause for 2001's Muscadine Queen, Phillip—"

"We'll be right with you," I shouted. "We're in the middle of something." I drove my finger into Jordan's chest. "If you touch my father, I'll leave your ass here when I leave."

"I take it back," he said.

"Good. I'm glad you've finally come to your senses."

"Youdohave to call me Dad."

I groaned, whirling around on my heel and marching on stage. I took my place beside Rivers, waving at the crowd. Danvers and Albert-slash-Leopold slowly stepped in front of us, holding their red ribbon taut. I wasn't sure why these two men kept popping up all over the place. For God's sake, Danvers was a pilot. I couldn't think of a single reason he might be moonlighting as a ribbon-holding heartthrob.

"Phillip Firecracker, ladies and gentlemen," Rivers said. Leaning in, he whispered, "my queen." He moved ever closer, bringing lips to my cheek and giving it a kiss. I could have slapped him for it. The crowd was eating it up, though, and their applause was almost overwhelming. It had been years since I'd experienced anything like it. There was a lump in my throat, and as hard as I tried, I couldn't swallow it down.

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