Page 96 of Fairground

Who would’ve thought I’d be standing here, tears filling the corners of my eyes, getting all emotional over a bunch of baby chicks? Six months ago, I wouldn’t have even known what an egg farm smelled like, let alone spent my nights admiring tiny, feathered dinosaurs. But now, here I am, completely and utterly enchanted by them, by Cash, by all of it.

“Cash—” I turn to speak to him but realize he’s not next to me anymore. My eyes dart around until I spot him kneeling down a few feet away.

In one hand, he’s cradling a single chick, its soft cheeps filling the air. In the other, gleaming under the soft light of the enclosure, is a diamond ring so dazzling it might outshine the sun and the moon.

My breath catches as he brings the chick to his cheek, brushing it gently while grinning up at me.

“Rae,” he begins, his voice steady and sure. “People used to tell me I didn’t have a type. That I’d be a perpetual bachelor, never settling down. And you know what? I agreed with them. I figured I wasn’t the kind of guy who’d ever find someone worth changing for and the thought of anything stealing my joy, well that sounded like hell. Turns out, I was just waiting for the right woman. The dark to my light. The night to my morning. The moon to my sun. A woman who challenges me in ways I didn’t even know I needed—professionally, personally, all of it. Youdidn't steal my joy, you multiplied it. Gave me someone who could handle my banter and dished it right back even better. You stole my heart the moment I met you at the bar, and I don’t want another day to go by without you as my wife. So,” he takes a deep breath and smiles, “Will you marry me?”

My heart feels like it’s about to burst. I nod, unable to speak at first because the question in any life would have the same answer. Of course I’d end up here, in the middle of an egg farm, surrounded by baby chicks, saying yes to marriage with Cash Marshall, the one and onlyMr. Whitewood Creekwhile I hold the title of Mayor.

“Yes,” I finally manage to get out before laughing. “Yes, I’ll marry you. Oh, God, I can’t believe this.”

Cash grins, sliding the ring onto my finger with gentleness. I reach for the baby chick, cradling her in my hands, marveling at her soft, downy feathers and tiny, blinking eyes.

“I'm so happy right now. I can’t believe we’re getting married.”

He smiles. “Couldn’t do it without my chick friend.”

She’s perfect,” I whisper, stroking her tiny wings.

“I thought you might like her,” Cash says, his grin widening. “You get to name her.”

It only takes me a second before the perfect name comes to me. “Torchic,” I announce, smiling as the chick blinks up at me.

His brows knit together in confusion. “What the hell does that mean?”

“It’s fromPokémon,” I say, biting back a laugh. “Torchic is a little yellow chicken with a flame crest. Inside its belly is a flame sac filled with fire. When it’s hugged, it feels warm, but when it’s attacked, it shoots fireballs and scorches its enemies.”

Cash chuckles, shaking his head as he steps closer, brushing a kiss against my forehead. “Sounds a lot like you when I first met you.”

I grin up at him. “Yeah, but here’s the thing. Torchic evolves into Blaziken eventually—a total badass chicken Pokémon.”

“Yeah?” he says, his lips brushing my temple now.

“Yeah,” I say softly. “I thought I could keep most people away. That I would push you off with my personality, keep you at arm’s length. Hell, I thought that about this whole small town. But you know the crazy thing about Blaziken?”

“Hm?” His voice is a low rumble, his lips still lingering near my skin.

“Its’ feathers burn off from repeated exposure to fire, but new feathers always grow back, stronger. It’s how I felt. You burnt off the old parts of me. Helped me shed those things that I used to cling to, and I grew into something new here in Whitewood Creek. Something better.”

He pulls back just enough to meet my eyes, his gaze warm and unwavering. “And do you like this new version of your life here with me?”

I nod, my throat tight with emotion. “I do.”

He leans in and kisses me slowly, his hands cupping my face like he never wants to let me go. Like I'm the most important person in the world to him. And I believe that I am.

“Me too, baby,” he murmurs against my lips. “Me too.”

The End.

---