Page 41 of The County Fair Queen

I backed away slowly, admitting defeat. I almost expected him to gloat about winning this stupid pissing contest, but he didn't. In fact, I couldn't tell what his expression was trying to convey. Fear? Regret? It certainly couldn't be arousal, I knew that much, at least. I stared over my shoulder at the tin building Beau had entered earlier.

"We should probably get back to work," I said, trying to steady my breathing. "Dictator Rivera over there will probably have our heads on spikes if we leave him to clean up the pig shit on his own."

Rivers snorted. "Way to kill the mood."

I flagged him off with my hand before walking away, unable to form a coherent thought. When I stepped into the enclosure, Beau was sitting next to one of the pigs. This one was lighter than the rest, its hair white and wiry. The little tyke was lying on its side as Beau ran a blue-bristled brush through its hair.

The inside of the enclosure smelled even worse than their pen. The floor was concrete, and there were piles of hay sitting inthe corner. Beau must have cleared it while Rivers and I were filming. I said a silent prayer to a God I didn't particularly believe in, to spare me from the kid's wrath.

I watched on, inspired by the affection Beau was showing the little creature. As the pig lounged, Beau whispered sweet nothings into its ear. Normally, I would have slapped someone for insisting I take part in manual labor, but seeing how happy this trip had made the kid, I didn't think I minded it all that much. Granted, one pig almost shattered my shin when it barreled into me earlier, but the ache in my leg didn't hold a candle to the ache in my heart at that moment. It was a good ache. A strong ache.

"If I come across as crazy, just know I'm kinda tasty,"Beau sang to the pig."What's a little bit of stalking, if it gets those lips a-talking."

Ah, hell. That song. Always with that goddamn song. Eventually, when Beau was finished crooning out "Methods to My Madness," he bent down and kissed the little creature on the forehead. He stood and grabbed a spray can from the shelf above the pile of hay, aiming it at the pig. After coating the animal's body, he placed the can back on the shelf and bent down, kissing him on the snout. "Ought to keep the sun from burning you, buddy. Now, I don't want you to worry when I go. I'm coming back tomorrow. I promise." He paused, eyeing the creature as if he was hanging onto its every nonexistent word. "I know. I know you do. You ain't gotta worry, I'll make sure Fudge knows. He misses you just as much, Miguel." He turned around, smiling when he caught sight of me.

"Hey, Phillip. Everything okay?"

I nodded. "Yeah, kid. All good."

He approached with a hand held out for me to take. Once he latched on to me, he led me outside, past the piglets and toward the fence. I hopped over, hanging back to help him across. Ashort distance away, Brenda/Carole and the crew were filming us as we made our way to a small picnic table. It was shaded by an oak tree, and Rivers already covered it with a red and white checkered tablecloth. He was pulling plates out of his basket and setting them on the table when we got there.

I sat beside Rivers as Beau took the seat in front of us. Beau wiped sweat from his forehead before grabbing a sandwich and setting it on his plate. After pouring a healthy helping of Doritos beside it, he closed his eyes, offering his thanks to the animals that had died for the meal. Since we were eating chips and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, I wasn't really sure what animals had died for our nourishment. Still, I bowed my head right along with him, muttering "Thanks" under my breath.

Rivers' hand found mine on top of the table and latched on, lacing our fingers together. "Thanks for coming today, Firecracker."

Beau nodded before taking a bite out of his sandwich. "Thanks Phillip," he agreed, sending chunks of bread and peanut butter spattering against the table.

I smiled at the kid, and then at Rivers. "The pleasure was all mine."

Chapter Nine

IT'S WORTH FIXING

For the rest of the week, Hurricane Brenda/Carole carried us through like an ocean torrent, hurling us out to sea with little to no care for where we landed. She got some great scenes along the way, so every time I found myself doubting her decisions, I would draw in a deep breath and remind myself she was just as heavily vested in this as I.

On Friday, Rivers and I spent the day together writing our speeches for the Muscadine King and Queen crowning that was to take place the next week. Rivers told me since I hadn't returned to crown the next year's winner, the city council was hoping I'd be willing to do so now. Apparently, last year’s winners were killed in a tragic car accident, and they wanted Rivers and I to take their place. The last thing I wanted was to take part in an event that had almost ruined me as a teenager, but with Riv batting his eyes dreamily at me, I didn't have theheart to say no. Even worse, I didn't want to say no. God help me; I was warming to the bastard.

The following Monday, I realized I must've died. That was the only explanation for the chaos unfolding on Aunt Lurlene's front porch. Though it was the ass-crack of dawn—a time when any other rational human being should have been sleeping—someone was banging on the front door. The early-bird knocker was also screaming my name. I touched my phone screen, groaning when the numbersFive, one,andzerolit up in the center. I didn't know who had the audacity to wake me before sunrise, but they would feel the fury of my wrath.

…later.

For the time being, I fully planned on covering my head with a pillow to drown them out. They would have to wait. Sleep took priority.

"Phillip!" the man called out again. "Firecracker? You up there?"

Jesus Christ.

No.

No, Rivers was not at my door. No, he hadn't shown up without invitation, for God knows what. And no, I would not condone his terrible manners and lackluster moral compass by letting him inside.

"Fuck off, Rivers," I shouted.

"What's going on?" Jordan asked from behind me. His arm was hooked around my waist, his morning glory digging into my thigh. "Is it a fire?"

"Worse. It's Rivers," was all I said before burying my face in the pillow. "Get your dick off of me, Jordy. You're leaking on my leg. You know how I feel about uninvited pre-cum."

"Phillip, is that you?" Rivers called out.

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