Chapter 19
19
PORTIA
D inner wound down, all of us stuffed and sticky. My parents hugged me before they drifted away with Alexis’s parents. The band that had been playing some pretty mild music left the stage. The main attraction for the night, a band that played eighties hair metal, was now setting up.
The families with young children were slowly filtering away from the festival. Now was when the real fun started. The adults got to play.
I noticed Dean check his watch. I wasn’t about to let him go home alone and sulk. He was going to have fun. I had finally turned the page on my own chapter of doldrums. I hated feeling that way and it had only lasted a couple of weeks. If I could bring Dean into the light, I was going to do it.
“Come on,” I said, grabbing his arm. “We’re going to have some fun.”
He grimaced. “I think I’m going to head home.”
I scowled at him. “My parents are still out here. Quit acting like an old fart.”
“How about the pie toss?” Alexis suggested.
I grabbed Dean’s hand before he could protest and dragged him toward the pie-toss booth, Alexis trailing behind us with a grin. The booth was set up with rows of aluminum pans filled with whipped cream and tin plates stacked neatly to the side. A couple of teenagers were manning it, their faces smeared with cream from their own failed attempts at the game.
“You’re not seriously going to make me do this,” Dean muttered.
“Oh, I’m seriously going to make you do this,” I shot back, already stepping up to the counter and handing over a few dollars. “Three tosses, please.”
The teenager handed me three plates, each one wobbling precariously in my hand. I turned to Dean and Alexis, holding one out to each of them. Alexis took hers with a gleam in her eye, but Dean just stared at it like it might bite him.
“Come on, Jackson,” I said, nudging him. “Show me you’ve got more than just brooding in your arsenal.”
He let out a long-suffering sigh but finally took the plate. “You’re going to regret this.”
“Doubtful,” I said, lining up my first shot. The target was a row of metal cutouts shaped like cartoonish faces, each one perched on a spring-loaded pole. The goal was to hit the target dead-center, but the springs made them wobble unpredictably. I took aim, focused, and hurled the plate. It sailed through the air—and missed completely, splattering harmlessly against the backboard.
Alexis laughed, stepping up next. “Watch and learn,” she said, squinting at her target. She whipped the plate forward with surprising precision, hitting the edge of the cutout and sending it spinning. A small puff of whipped cream sprayed into the air, earning her a cheer from the booth attendant.
“Not bad,” I admitted, grinning. “Your turn, Dean.”
He stepped up reluctantly, holding the plate with little enthusiasm. For a moment, he just stood there, staring at the target with that unreadable expression of his. Then, with a flick of his wrist, he sent the plate flying. It hit the center of the cutout with a sharp clang, knocking it back so hard that whipped cream exploded in all directions.
Alexis and I stared at him in stunned silence for a beat before bursting into laughter. “Showoff,” I teased, nudging him with my elbow.
Dean shrugged, but there was the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. I counted that as a win.
“Alright, hotshot,” I said, handing him another plate. “Let’s see if you can do it again.”
He took the plate, his eyes narrowing slightly as he focused on the target. This time, he didn’t hesitate—he wound up and let the plate fly with the same effortless precision. It hit the target dead center again, splattering whipped cream everywhere in a satisfying explosion. The booth attendant let out a low whistle.
“Two for two,” I said.
“Guess not,” Dean replied.
The booth attendant held out a bin with a variety of silly prizes. Dean raised an eyebrow. “Thanks, but I’ll pass. Give it to the next guy.”
“Look, it’s Nicole.” Alexis laughed and pointed to the dunk tank.
I heard Dean groan. I looked up at him. “History?”
“Not that I ever want to revisit,” he muttered.
“I do,” Alexis said. “She’s a bitch, and if I can dunk her, I’m going to do it.”
“I’m game,” I said.
I couldn’t help but grin as we approached the dunk tank, Alexis was practically bouncing with excitement beside me. Nicole was perched on the seat above the water, her perfectly coiffed hair and smug expression making her look like she owned the place. She was chatting with someone off to the side, her laughter sharp and grating.
Dean lingered a few steps behind, his hands shoved in his pockets and his expression blank. “I’m not getting involved in this,” he said flatly.
“Oh, come on,” I said, turning to him with a smirk. “You’re telling me you don’t want to see her take a dip?”
“I’m telling you I don’t care,” he replied, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—amusement, perhaps.
Alexis rolled her eyes. “More fun for us,” she said, marching up to the booth and handing over a few dollars. “Three throws, please.”
The attendant handed her three softballs. Alexis passed one to me. “Ladies first,” she said with a grin.
I stepped up to the line, weighing the ball in my hand. Nicole noticed me then, her smirk fading into a look of mild irritation. “Oh, great,” she said, crossing her arms. “Let me guess—you’re here to try your luck?”
“Something like that,” I shot back, smiling sweetly. “All for charity, right?”
Nicole loved to be the star of every show. The charity supported the library, and I was guessing Nicole was the head. She had always been about appearances. I took aim, focusing on the target just below her seat. The first throw sailed wide, hitting the back of the tank with a dull thud. Nicole let out a mocking laugh.
“Better luck next time,” she said.
Alexis stepped up next. She studied the target. She wound up and let the ball fly—it hit the edge of the target but didn’t quite have enough force to knock it in. Nicole’s laughter grew louder.
“Nail it,” Alexis hissed. “Do not let her stay dry.”
I took it and stepped up again. I wasn’t super athletic. I never played softball or basketball. I pictured her at the auction and how she had looked at me like I was a cockroach that needed to be smashed. I told myself this wasn’t being petty. She was the one who climbed into that booth for charity. I was just going to help her out a little.
I focused, took a deep breath, and threw the ball with everything I had. It slammed into the target dead center. Nicole’s smug expression turned to shock as the seat gave way beneath her, and she plummeted into the water with a splash.
Alexis and I erupted into cheers, high-fiving each other as Nicole surfaced, sputtering and glaring daggers at us. Her perfect hair was plastered to her face. She looked like a wet poodle.
“I guess I did have better luck that time,” I said, grinning widely. “Thanks for the encouragement, Nicole.”
Dean let out a chuckle behind us. I turned to see him shaking his head. “You two are trouble,” he said, but there was a hint of approval in his voice.
“Worth it,” Alexis said, still laughing as we watched Nicole climb out of the tank, dripping wet and muttering under her breath.
“Come on,” I said, grabbing Dean’s arm again. “Let’s go find something else to do before she tries to retaliate.”
Dean grunted in response, but he didn’t pull his arm away as I tugged him toward the next booth. Alexis trailed behind us, still giggling about Nicole’s impromptu swim. The festival buzzed around us. I was truly enjoying myself. I really didn’t think I would, but I was so glad Alexis pushed me to come out.
“Think she’ll come after us?” Alexis asked, her tone teasing as she caught up.
“Doubtful,” Dean said, his voice dry. “Nicole’s more bark than bite. Always has been. Plus, you won’t be the only person dunking her today.”
I raised an eyebrow at him. “You sound like you know her pretty well.”
He shot me a look. “Everyone knows everyone in this town. Doesn’t mean I care to.”
“Sure,” I said, grinning. “Keep telling yourself that.”
I knew they had dated. Or at least there had been a date.
“Three-legged race,” Alexis pointed out. “You two should do it.”
I looked up at Dean. “Think we can win?”
He hesitated. I expected him to poo-poo the idea. “I know we’ll win.”
I didn’t expect him to say yes.
We stepped up to the starting line. Alexis helped tie our legs together with a strip of fabric. Dean stood close, his arm brushing mine as she tightened the knot.
“You sure you can keep up?” he asked quietly.
I raised an eyebrow. “I was about to ask you the same thing.”
He snorted, a rare sound that almost made me laugh. Almost. “I think it will work better if I just carry you.”
“Where’s the fun in that?”
The race coordinator gave us instructions, but I barely listened. My focus was on Dean’s arm around my waist. I could feel the heat of him and couldn’t help but think back to that night at the fire. He smelled like leather and musk with a hint of citrus. It was oddly grounding.
“Ready?” he asked.
“Ready,” I replied.
The whistle blew, and we took off. At first, it was a clunky mess—our steps out of sync, our legs tugging against each other. The couple beside us fell, the woman getting a face full of grass. I just knew we were going down. Then Dean tightened his grip and pulled me closer.
“Follow my lead,” he muttered.
He took control, half-carrying me. I matched his rhythm, letting him set the pace, and suddenly we were moving smoothly, almost effortlessly. Like we were actually sharing a brain.
The crowd cheered as we surged ahead, our legs moving in unison. I could hear Alexis yelling encouragement from the sidelines, her voice blending with the other shouts and laughter. The finish line was just ahead, but the couple behind us was gaining ground.
“Faster,” I said, glancing up at him.
He didn’t respond, just tightened his grip and pushed harder. We crossed the finish line a split second before the other couple, stumbling slightly but staying upright. The crowd erupted into applause. Alexis rushed over, grinning from ear to ear.
“You did it!” she exclaimed, clapping me on the back.
Dean untied the fabric from our legs. “Told you we’d win,” he said, his tone casual, but there was a hint of satisfaction in his eyes.
I couldn’t help but laugh. “You basically carried me.”
Alexis handed us each a small ribbon—bright blue for first place. “Look at you two,” she said. “You make a great team.”
“Thanks,” I said.
“Hey, I’ll catch up with you in a few,” Alexis said. “I have to, uh, my mom needs me.”
She was obviously lying. She practically ran from us.
I expected Dean to make another excuse to leave. To my surprise, he didn’t. We started walking. We weren’t going anywhere. Just walking.
Dean and I found ourselves walking along the shore, away from the noise and the crowd. There was still tension between us, but it felt different. More relaxed. I understood him a little better. Not what made him tick, but I realized he didn’t talk a lot because he had nothing to say. But when he had something to say, he talked. A lot of people talked too much. Said too much. Not Dean.
“You look beautiful in that dress,” Dean said quietly.
Like that. When he said it, I knew it wasn’t an empty compliment.
“Thank you.”
I hesitated, my heart pounding as I thought about asking him what this thing was between us. It was confusing, and messy, and unclear—but I didn’t want to stop. I’ve always liked to color between the lines, but what I was doing with Dean was anything but.
Dean stopped walking, catching my hand and turning me gently to face him. I opened my mouth to speak, but before I could say anything, the first firework went off.
We both turned to watch as the sky lit up with bursts of color. The lake reflected the fireworks, creating a dazzling display that took my breath away. Dean said nothing. His expression said even less.
“You ever let yourself enjoy things, Jackson?” I murmured, my voice soft.
Dean exhaled a laugh, shaking his head. “Not really.”
I bit my lip, then tilted my chin up. “You should try it sometime.”
And then, before I could second-guess it, I kissed him.
Dean didn’t pull away. He didn’t hesitate. He just pulled me in, deepening the kiss, his hand sliding to the back of my neck, his body pressing against mine like he was finally giving in.
His hand at the back of my neck held me steady, his fingers threading through my hair. My hands found their way to his chest.
Dean’s other arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me closer until there wasn’t an inch of space between us. His body seemed to vibrate with something unspoken, something fierce and raw. Dammit. This man was going to be my undoing.