Page 15 of Anchored

Maple tilts her head back and laughs, the tension immediately easing between us. When her head comes back up, the woman is finished and moves on to the next couple. “Thank you for doing this. I know you didn’t sign up for this.”

I tighten my arm around her, refusing to acknowledge how good it feels to have her curves pressed against me. “It’s fine. Though the rumor mill is about to go crazy when they see us together here in public. You ready for that?”

Maple shrugs. “I don’t live here, you do.Youready for that?”

I copy her shrug. “I don’t mind being connected to a pretty lady.”

Her cheeks heat, but I don’t have time to consider flirting more with her when we’re cut off by the woman with the clipboard. She now has a bullhorn in front of her mouth.

“Ladies and gentlemen, let’s get ready for our first three-legged race of the season. Let’s hear it for our ten couples!” A pitiful round of applause comes from the bystanders. “On your marks!”

“Wrap your arm around my waist and hold on,” I whisper in Maple’s ear. She obeys.

“Get set! Go!”

Everyone takes off and so do we. It’s awkward and discombobulated, but we finally find a rhythm halfway down the lawn track. Maple starts giggling and can’t stop. Several couples go down in a heap of tangled limbs. There’s one couple ahead of us, but they slow as the woman steps into a hole in the grass.

“Come on, moonbeam!” I shout, practically lifting her off the ground by her shoulders as I pick up my pace, the finish line in reach.

But that just makes Maple laugh harder and her rhythm falters just enough to have us stumbling. She whoops and leans heavily left. I try to lean heavily right to counteract her tipping, but there’s nothing for it. We teeter over and fall to the ground in a sloppy mess. Maple’s lying half on top of me, laughing hysterically into my chest. Her free leg is hooked over my hips, that creamy thigh across my body. I’m trying desperately not to react to having her splayed over me. My dick doesn’t get the message that we’re in public.

The lady with the bullhorn calls a winner. The crowd claps and pretty soon I hear Gracie calling out from the sidelines.

“Look at those two lovebirds! That’s my Maple and her fiancé!”

Maple lifts her head from my chest where she was practically crying from laughing so hard. The laughter’s gone now, replaced by abject terror as her grandmother announces to the entire town that we’re engaged. She tries to scramble off of me, only remembering that we’re tied together when she falls again, this time into my lap as I’ve sat up. My dick is really not cooperating now. I wrap my arms around her and whisper in her ear.

“Stay still.” The words are harsh, more of a command than a suggestion, but I need her to sit still or the situation in my pants is going to get worse. I lean around her and start to untie the ribbon lacing up and down our legs. The second it’s free, Maple jumps to her feet and smooths down her shirt. I’m slower to get up, for reasons obvious to me but hopefully no one else.

“There they are,” Gracie says from much closer.

I look up to see Macy pushing Gracie’s wheelchair over to us. My ex-wife is smiling, but it looks predatory. At least the sight of her fixes the situation in my jeans. Maple stands there like she’s a statue, blinking rapidly at Macy. Sliding my arm around her waist, I yank Maple into my side.

“Hey, Macy. This is Maple. Maple, this is Macy.” I wave my hand between the parties.

The introduction must break Maple out of her fog since she leans into my side heavily, her free hand coming up to land on the center of my chest. “Oh, hi! I think I remember you.”

I glance down at her, surprised to see a broad smile on her face. I know for a fact she doesn’t like Macy. My ex-wife looks like she’s bit into a bitter lemon. She’s been married and divorced again since we were together, so I don’t know why she’s acting this way. Maple strokes her hand over my chest, and everything inside of me warms at her touch.

“Come on, baby,” Maple purrs, sounding entirely unlike herself. “Let’s go to the pie-eating contest. I wanna get dirty with you.”

I choke on my own spit and have to cough to breathe. Maple in seductress mode is something I’d pay money to see over and over again. Gracie cackles and hoots.

Macy just grimaces. “Well, nice seeing you again, Maple. Good luck with…that.” She lifts a dark eyebrow and saunters off.

I look back at Maple. We both make a face, then laugh.

“God, she’s just as terrible as ever,” Maple says, sounding more like herself as she pulls her hand away from my chest. I miss it instantly. “What did you ever see in her?”

I shake my head. “I’ve asked myself that question a lot over the years.”

“Well, I don’t know about pie, but I’d love a hot dog.” Gracie reminds us why we’re even at the festival.

Maple steps away from me to push her grandmother toward the food tents. I follow, though I do take the opportunity to check out Maple’s ass in those shorts. I shouldn’t, but after that roll in the grass and her seductress act, I can’t help myself.

“Yeah, no pie for me,” I say absently.

Maple snorts. “Don’t want to ruin those six-pack abs?”

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