Page 40 of The County Fair Queen

"Okay, maybe not so much 'adorable' as he is a dictator," Rivers said.

"An adorable dictator," I agreed, hurrying toward the blue barrel.

"He loves it here. I wasn't sure about it at first, when he came to me with the idea. His class took a field trip out here last year, and he fell for the place. I wouldn't be surprised if he wound up having a farm of his own one day."

"Yeah, well, hopefully you're able to break the news about 'the big farm' before he sets up shop."

He winced. "Yeah, I know. I keep meaning to tell him, but every time I try, the words get stuck in my throat. I want to protect his heart for as long as I'm able."

When we reached the barrel, I twisted the water valve and stuck the hose into the top of the jug. The barrel was almost empty, so it would be a while before it was full. Rivers was already hard at work, grabbing the sack of pig feed and makinghis way into the pen. There was another bag beside it, and I figured it wouldn't kill me to help him, so I grabbed the sack and trailed behind.

When I made it into the pen, the pigs swarmed around me like shin-high gnats, each one nipping at the sack of food. Somehow, I managed to make it to the tote without being murdered, and I tipped the bag, filling the plastic container with dry food.

By the time I was done, the Texas heat had me sweating like a whore in church. I wiped my hand across my forehead, coming to a halt when I caught sight of Rivers. He was sweating just as profusely, his shirt drenched, sticking to his chest. Without warning, he pulled his shirt over his head. As if he could feel my eyes burning holes into his skin, he turned toward me with a smirk that spread ear to ear.

Mary, mother of God. He was shirtless.

He was shirtless, and what's more, the man was absolutely stacked. While some men have six packs, Rivers seemed to have a whole damn case of abdominal muscles. Each indention was as deep as a canyon. Across his chest, dark black hairs grew in inconsistent patches. There was a light dusting of hair on his stomach, but it wasn't nearly as thick as the giant T-shaped section that spread across his chest and down the center. His underwear peeked slightly above the waist of his jeans,Calvin Kleindisplayed proudly on the label.

Rivers cleared his throat, and when I glanced up, he was smirking like he'd just caught me performing some poorly planned crime. "You alright, Firecracker? You're looking a little heated over there."

I tripped over a pig and fell down, smacking my head on the ground. "Shut up." I stood up, dusting the dirt off my shirt. "I said shut up."

"I didn't say a word," he said, biting his bottom lip. "It's just—you seem a little overexerted." He placed his hand on his hipbefore cocking it to the side and raising an accusatory eyebrow. "It's hot out here. You need me to hose you down?"

My eyes dipped down to his crotch.

Jesus Christ.

He approached slowly, tilting my chin with his crooked fingers until our eyes met. "Not with that hose, baby." He winked at me.

"Fuck yeah," Brenda/Carole shouted from behind the fence. "That's what I'm talking about. Give us sexual tension. We want these viewers to cream their jeans at the sight of you."

"I think I just threw up in my mouth. Never speak those words again."

Not one to be deterred, Rivers guided me back by the chin, leaning in so closely that our noses almost touched. "Not with that hose, baby," he repeated.

"What?" Was he repeating himself now? Was he having a stroke?

"We broke the scene," he explained. "Figured we should just take it from the top."

Shit.The scene.That's all this was to him. We were only doing this for the show. None of it was real. Not that I wanted it to be real, obviously.

"Yeah," I said. "Yeah, sorry. Do you want to go again?"

"Action," Brenda/Carole answered for him, sending plumes of raspberry scented water vapor in our direction.

"Not with that hose, baby," he said yet again, throwing another wink my way. "Not yet, at least."

Fine. Fuck it. Two could play that game. I took another step, leaving no room between us. Looping my arms around his back, I hooked my thumbs together, letting my hands rest against his ass.

"Keep it up, Riv, and I'll—"

"I have no trouble keeping it up." He brought his lip to my ear, his breath almost as hot as the Texas sun against my skin. "You'll find out soon enough."

"What makes you think you're the one who should be worrying about'keeping it up'?" I leaned in, nibbling his chin playfully. I dug my thumb beneath the fabric of his underwear, dipping ever so slightly into the opening crevice of his crack. The warm, slick, sweat coating him had no right being as enticing as it was.

"That right?" He rolled his hips, and our crotches connected for the briefest of moments. "You want to play hide-the-firecracker with me, baby? Because that can be arranged." When he pulled away from me, he had one eyebrow daringly raised in my direction. My heart was beating at an unbearable speed. It must have been the sun. It was at least ninety degrees outside; I couldn't be expected to keep my wits about me.

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