Chapter 17
17
PORTIA
I knew coming to the festival meant stepping back into the spotlight. But now, standing in the middle of it, drink in hand, sun setting over the lake, I didn’t care. It wasn’t so bad. Yes, people were watching me, but whatever. Most of them were too polite to actually say anything. Sure, there were looks and whispers, but I just accepted it at this point. Eventually, they would get bored. Someone would get knocked up or cheat on their wife and I would be old news.
Alexis nudged me with an elbow. “You’re actually enjoying yourself. Who knew?”
I smirked, taking a sip of my drink. “Shocking, I know.”
And I was. For the first time in weeks, I felt like my old self. I didn’t feel like the same loser that dragged her ass back into town. I was here and I was going to deal with it.
I spent time catching up with people, dodging nosy questions, and reminding myself that I wasn’t some outsider here. This was my town, my home, and these were my people. Everyone here had their own bullshit. They all had secrets and problems. Mine was just splashed all over the front page.
My parents were over the moon that I was back, proudly showing me off to their friends. “Our Portia is home,” my dad said, his arm around my shoulders as he introduced me to a couple I hadn’t seen in years.
“It’s so good to have you back,” my mom added, her eyes shining.
I smiled, but it felt tight. I wished I was here visiting. I wanted my parents to be able to brag about my accomplishments in New York, but that wasn’t the case.
“So, what’s next for you, Portia?” one of my parents’ friends asked, her tone overly bright.
“Oh, you know,” I said, forcing a smile. “Just figuring things out.”
It was the same answer I gave everyone, and it was starting to wear thin. But I didn’t have a better one.
I pasted on a smile and sipped my drink as I nodded along to yet another conversation I’d rather not be having. Mrs. Levin, one of my mother’s bridge club friends, was peppering me with questions she probably thought were polite but felt more like an interrogation.
“So, Portia, dear,” she began, her voice dripping with false cheer. “Are you planning to stay in town for good now? Or is this just a little break?”
I forced a laugh that sounded hollow even to my own ears. “Oh, you know how it is. Life takes unexpected turns sometimes. I’m just taking it one day at a time.”
She tilted her head, her painted-on smile never wavering. “Well, it’s so nice to have you back. I’m sure you’ll find your footing here. Larkspur Lake has a way of bringing people back to their roots.”
“Right,” I said, gripping my drink tighter. “Roots.”
She patted my arm like she’d just delivered some profound wisdom. “And don’t you worry about that article in the paper. People around here have short memories. They’ll move on to the next juicy story soon enough. “
“I certainly hope so,” I muttered.
“Let’s get a fresh drink,” Alexis said, pulling me away from the group.
“Thank you,” I whispered once we were on our way to the beer garden.
“You’re welcome. They mean well.”
“Do they?” I asked. “I think some of them just like knowing I’m not doing as well as they thought.”
Alexis laughed. “Well, you always were the golden girl. They’re probably shocked you don’t have it all figured out already.”
I rolled my eyes but smiled despite myself. “Shocking, right?”
We ordered spiked iced drinks at the bar. The crowd buzzed around us, familiar voices overlapping into a pleasant hum. It wasn’t New York, but it wasn’t bad.
The cold drink felt good. Despite the sun finally going down, it was still warm and humid. I would have loved to strip off the dress and dive into the lake. But a scandal was probably a bad idea given my current status in town.
As I moved through the crowd, I couldn’t help but feel Dean nearby, even when I wasn’t looking at him. It was like a magnetic pull, something I couldn’t ignore. It was crazy that I had a sixth sense when it came to him. We weren’t even together—had never been together—but there was just something about him I couldn’t resist. When I finally did glance over, I caught him watching me. There was something in his gaze that made it feel like he was touching me. I could practically feel his tongue sliding over my throat.
“Go,” Alexis murmured, nudging me again. “Have fun. Pretend like you don’t care what anyone thinks.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked.
“Oh, girl, don’t act like you don’t know that man is looking at you like you are on the menu.”
“Stop,” I hissed.
“Why are you denying it?” she asked.
“Denying what?”
She laughed, sounding very much like a crazy person. “Have fun,” she said and disappeared.
“Fuck it,” I muttered under my breath.
I wasn’t going to run. If he wanted to keep looking at me like that, he was going to have to do it right in front of me. No more gazes from afar like a coward. I supposed I was still a little pissed at him for getting me all revved up and then dumping ice water on the situation.
I walked straight toward Dean, daring him to run. He didn’t move when I stepped beside him, just kept his eyes on the crowd. “Enjoying yourself, Jackson?” I asked.
His gaze flicked over me. “Wouldn’t go that far.”
I rolled my eyes. “It’s okay to admit it.”
“I didn’t know I had to ask for permission.”
“You don’t, but you seem like you’re working hard to be miserable.”
He chuckled deep in his throat. “And you’re working too hard to be cheery. We both know you’re not happy to be here.”
“No, we don’t know that,” I said. “I am happy to be here. My parents are here and they’re happy. That makes me happy.”
He nodded and took a drink from his glass of beer. I wasn’t going to let his grumpy attitude bring me down. I was the one that deserved to be sullen. But I was done pouting.
“Come on, let’s go do something,” I said. “You look like you need a distraction.”
To my surprise, he didn’t resist. He just followed me. We started at the vendor booths, weaving through the crowd as I pointed out things that caught my eye.
“Look at this,” I said, stopping at a booth selling handmade jewelry. I held up a delicate silver bracelet, the charms catching the light. “Isn’t it pretty?”
Dean glanced at it, his expression unreadable. “If you’re into that kind of thing.”
I shot him a look. “You’re such a grump.”
He shrugged, but I thought I saw the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. We wandered past the rows of booths, a mix of baked goods, crafts, and various trinkets all blending together. I picked up an old vinyl record and waved it at him. “Please tell me you have a record player.”
“Why would I have a record player?” he asked.
“I don’t know. You seem like the kind of guy that appreciates vinyl.”
He frowned. “Old? Are you calling me old?”
I laughed and rolled my eyes. “It’s not old. It’s nostalgic. Would you be surprised to learn I have a record player? It’s in storage, but I have one.”
“Why?” he asked.
“I don’t know.” I shrugged and flipped through the bin with old vinyl from the seventies. “I like the sound of it.”
“Your parents aren’t even old enough to be into vinyl,” he said. “They would have been at the tail end of the vinyl days.”
I tilted my head, flashing a smile at him. “Maybe I’m just cooler than you thought.”
His blue eyes narrowed slightly, but there was a glint of amusement there. “Doubtful.”
“Oh, come on,” I teased, holding up a record of Fleetwood Mac. “Even you can’t deny the classics. This is good stuff.”
“You’re really going to spend money on something you can’t even listen to right now? I could pull up that whole record on my phone right now and the quality would be ten times better.”
“Why not?” I countered, pulling out my wallet. “Future me is going to be very grateful for this. As soon as I find a real place to settle and I can unpack my things, I’m so going to listen to this.”
He shook his head, but I caught the way his lips quirked up in the corner, like he was fighting a smile. Like it might cause him physical pain to truly smile. “Whatever makes you happy, Watson.”
The vendor handed me the record in a bag. “Thank you. And don’t act like you’re not impressed.”
“I’m not,” he said flatly, though his tone didn’t match the smirk he was no longer hiding.
“So what are you working on these days?” I asked him.
“Bikes,” he replied with typical curtness.
“Fascinating. Oh my God! Look at these!” I grabbed a pillow with an embroidered motorcycle on it and held it out to him, unable to contain my laughter.
He raised an eyebrow as he glanced over it. “Not quite my style.”
We moved on to the games. I dragged him over to a ring-toss booth. “Win me a unicorn,” I said.
He snorted. “That thing costs maybe five bucks and you want to spend fifty trying to win it?”
I frowned at him. “It’s not about buying the thing. It’s about the fun you’ll have trying to win it.”
“Why would that be fun?”
“Fine, I’ll do it myself. I didn’t realize you were a chicken shit. You’re obviously afraid I’m going to kick your ass.”
Dean raised an eyebrow. “You’re serious?”
“Dead serious,” I said, grinning. “Unless you’re scared.”
He handed the guy a ten-dollar bill and took the rings, his focus shifting to the bottles lined up on the counter. He tossed the first ring. Of course, it landed perfectly around the neck of a bottle.
I blinked, surprised. “Okay, showoff.”
Dean smirked, tossing another ring. It landed just as easily.
“Beginner’s luck,” I said.
He glanced at me, his smirk widening. “You’re just mad because you know you can’t beat me.”
I grabbed a set of rings, determined to prove him wrong. But my first toss missed by a mile.
Dean laughed, the sound so foreign even the guy running the booth looked surprised. “Need some help?”
I shot him a glare, but I couldn’t help the smile tugging at my lips. “Shut up.”
We spent the next ten minutes competing, and by the time we walked away, Dean had won a small stuffed unicorn—just like I asked for. He handed it to me without a word, and I couldn’t help but laugh.
“There’s your stupid unicorn,” he said.
I grinned, tucking the pink unicorn under my arm. “You’re full of surprises, Jackson.”
We stopped at a food stand next. I ordered a plate of fried dough. Dean pretended he wasn’t interested, but when I held a piece out to him, he took it without hesitation.
“Thought you didn’t like this kind of stuff,” I said, watching as he took a bite.
Dean shrugged, his mouth full. “It’s not terrible.”
I laughed, shaking my head. “High praise, coming from you.”
We found a quiet spot near the water to sit, the noise of the festival fading into the background. For a while, we just sat there, watching the waves and sharing bites of food. It was weird sitting with him. Sitting and not bickering or making out.
Dean glanced over his shoulder. “People are watching,” he muttered.
I followed his gaze, catching a few curious looks from the crowd. But I didn’t care.
“Let them watch,” I said, shrugging. “They’re just bored.”
Dean shook his head. “They’re talking. About us.”
“Who cares what they think? Not me. And you don’t strike me as the type to give a shit either. If you cared what people thought, you’d be back there faking it.”
He didn’t respond, just stared out at the water.
I sighed, leaning back on my hands. “You know, for someone who claims not to care about what people think, you sure spend a lot of time worrying about it.”
Dean shot me a look but said nothing.
The silence stretched between us, the kind that could either be comfortable or tense. With Dean, it was hard to tell. He was so good at shutting people out. I realized I had been doing that since I returned. It went against my nature.
And I decided I wasn’t going to do it anymore.
I looked down at the stuffed unicorn in my lap, running my fingers over its ridiculous pink mane. “Thanks for this, by the way. I mean, I know you think it’s stupid, but it’s kind of sweet.”
He grunted, still not looking at me. “Don’t get used to it.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” I said with a laugh. “I’m just saying, you’re not as much of a grump as you want people to think.”
For a moment, I thought he might actually respond. But instead, he stood abruptly, brushing off his shorts. “We should get back to the festival.”
I frowned up at him. “Why?”
“Because I’m thirsty,” he said.
He reached down and helped me up. Together, we walked back into the fray. I no longer cared that people were watching us.