Page 37 of Handy

“What in the abominable hell are they wearing?” Ridge gasps.

The man who takes center stage poses confidently in what can only be described as a fur loincloth. He grins and waggles his eyebrows before turning to strut off the stage.

“Why is this so much weirder than goats in lingerie?” West shakes his head, and we all take in the incomprehensible ‘fashion’ with varying expressions of horror and confusion on our faces.

The models parade one by one across the catwalk with scraps of fur covering their bits in ways that almost make me wish they actually were goats in thongs instead.

“No goats were harmed in the making of this collection, and we just know that all of you faux-goat fanatics are going to love adding some fun and adventure to your love lives with these exciting pieces,” the emcee declares.

After the furry collection, the next set of models come out wearing underwear with little cartoon goats all over them. I would have found that odd five minutes ago, but it seems downright normal after the faux goat fur thong. Still not sure why someone would want to buy a teddy with a bunch of goats on it, but that’s the least weird outcome of this entire baffling show.

“Well, this was a waste.” Stone sighs. “I already own this entire menswear collection.”

I arch an eyebrow.

“Even the fur thong?” Ollie asks with a smirk.

Dare nods. “He does.”

Daniel types furiously on his phone as the show comes to a very timely end. He turns around and waves it at us.

“Can you believe that?” He gestures at the emcee on the stage, who is telling everyone where they can order. “I’m posting all over my social media about this bigoted company.”

“Bigoted?” I cock my head. I mean, the underwear was all offensive to the eyes, but nothing worse than that as far as I can tell.

“Babe.” His best friend, Ren, puts a hand on his shoulder, stifling a laugh. “She was sayingfaux goat.”

Daniel blinks and then grimaces. “Oops. Deleting posts now. I can’t unsend the angry email I sent to the company, can I?”

I rumble a rusty laugh and glance over at Ledger. I promised him fried food and I saw him eyeing the Ferris wheel on our way in. Date or not, I want him to have a good time.

“Come on.” I nudge him towards the large tent opening.

“Where are we going?” he asks, following me as we slip away from the rest of the guys.

I don’t bother to answer, but he figures it out quickly enough when we get in line for funnel cake.

“Your friends are hilarious.”

“They’re not…” The protest gets stuck in my throat. Are they my friends? It’s not like they haven’t made the effort, always inviting me out for drinks and cookouts and things like the fair today. The problem is on my end, not theirs. I don’t know how to let people in; I never have. Come to think of it, the only people who have ever managed to get close to me have been the stubborn, overly friendly type who have refused to let my scowls and grunts stop them. Like Riley. Like Ledger… maybe?

I swallow and nod instead of arguing. Because, yeah, maybe they’re also too bullheaded to pay attention to any of the Keep Out signs plastered all over my face.

“Yeah, they’re funny,” I agree, squeezing Ledger’s hand and appreciating the warmth of his palm against mine. I tug him a little closer as the line moves forward and he happily leans into my body, resting his chin on my shoulder.

When it’s our turn to order, we get a couple of funnel cakes and Ledger pulls out his wallet.

“I got it.” I wave him away.

“But you paid for our entrance, and you drove.”

I scowl at the wallet in his free hand, unable to explain why the idea of letting him pay is annoying me.

“You can pay next time we go out,” I say gruffly after a second.

Ledger bites his bottom lip and nods. “Next time we go out.” Is he going to read into that? Hearing it in my own head, it sounds like I’m implying we’reouttogether now. My heart pounds and, fuck, I want him to read into it, I just don’t have the guts to come out and say it.

“It’s a date,” he says, making my pulse jump again before putting his wallet away and taking his funnel cake.

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