10. Sven
Ten
Sven
That weekend, we’re at the coffee place when we hear a customer ask the barista: “you going to the fair tonight?”
Esme’s head jerks up. I watch her hear the word fair and witness her entire face light up like a damn kid. I chuckle, shaking my head.
“What? Fairs are fun,” she shrugs with a smile.
I roll my eyes, she laughs, and that’s it.
That’s the whole conversation; we’re going to the fair.
No one had to ask or agree. My girl wants to go, so we’re going.
Because apparently my main concern in life has become: does this make my omega happy?
And if the county fair makes her happy, the county fair is where I’ll be.
In all honesty, I’m a grown alpha who hasn’t been to a fair since I was a boy.
I’d rather walk on fucking glass. But I’m going to the damn fair.
* * *
And yep, it’s exactly as loud and bright and fucking ridiculous as I remember, and she fucking loves it, so…
First, Esme wants funnel cake. And of course she gets powdered sugar every fucking where… down the front of her shirt, on her face… I reach over without thinking and wipe it off her nose with my thumb. Her hazel eyes widen and I do it again just to mess with her.
She drags me through the whole damn thing, names every freaking goat in the petting zoo. We listen to a terrible band on the makeshift stage. And I just follow… Fuck, I’d follow this woman to the ends of the world.
I’m carrying her funnel cake, cup of lemonade and a giant stuffed animal, and I don’t give a single fuck.
“Win me something,” Esme says, stopping in front of a booth, smiling huge, clapping her hands.
It’s the strength game. One of those with a hammer, bell, and a rigged spring under the pad that’s calibrated so nobody ever makes it to the highest level.
I look at the game, then at her face, then I take off my jacket.
The kid running the booth takes one look up at me, and his face pales. “Uh,” he mumbles. “Sir, it’s… uh… you might want to… uh… take it… easy?”
I hit so hard the puck nearly takes the bell clean off the post. People around us hoot and clap, Esme’s giggling, joining in the applause, and I shake my head at her, grinning.
“That one,” she tells the kid, pointing at the biggest, most ridiculous prize.
It’s a stuffed orca, ugly as shit, nearly as big as her.
She wraps both arms around it and looks up at me over the top of its stupid grinning face, fucking beaming.
Fuck, I’d ring that bell a thousand times, buy the whole fucking fair.
Do whatever it takes to put that look on her face. For the rest of our lives.
“You’re terrifying,” she giggles.
I smirk, cocking an eyebrow her way. “I know.”
“I freaking love it!” She hugs the whale. “His name’s Gary.”
“Gary,” I nod.
* * *
My fucking brothers find us at the Ferris wheel…
“NO!” Bjorn’s voice is carrying across the whole damn fairground. “No. Way. Vidar. VIDAR! Look.”
And here they come… Bjorn, Vidar and Kase, the three nosiest ones, shouldering through the crowd grinning like fucking madmen. I slap my forehead, muttering under my breath.
“It’s HIM,” Vidar bellows, like I had disappeared or some shit. “He’s at the fair! With a whale!”
“That’s not his,” Bjorn jumps in. “Sven, who’s whale…” Then he notices Esme at my side and stops. His expression gentles. My family hasn’t met her yet, but they all know who she is to me. “Oh.”
“This is Esme,” I say, flat and resigned. “Esme, these are three of the idiots. Bjorn, Vidar, Kase. There are more. I’m sorry in advance.”
She giggles, waving at them.
“You’re real,” Bjorn says to her, sounding incredulous. “He talks about… well. He doesn’t talk about anything, he’s a stone, but he came to dinner smiling and we’ve been…”
“Okay,” I cut him.
“…we’ve been DYING…”
“Bjorn.”
Esme is dying laughing, and I can tell all three of my brothers fall for her on the spot.
I watch my loud, impossible brothers take one look at her and go fucking soft, the same way I did.
And I can tell this is how it’ll be. Esme at my mother’s table, surrounded by my big, loud family, smiling, laughing, chatting. Belonging…
“We’re getting on the Ferris wheel,” I announce, mostly to make them leave.
“Romantic,” Vidar singsongs, wiggling his eyebrows.
“Goodbye,” I rumble, hooking an arm around Esme’s waist to pull her toward the line.
They only walk away after Bjorn makes me promise she’s coming to dinner and Esme enthusiastically agrees before I can stop her.
Then it’s just us again. We climb into one of the monster-sized Ferris wheel cars, and the wheel lifts us up into the night sky.
We can see the town’s small, golden lights spread out under us, the dark water of the bay.
Esme is holding Gary on her lap, and she’s pressed against my side with her head on my shoulder. She lets out a breath.
“This is amazing,” she says softly. “Thank you.”
I look down at her, her beautiful face, happy over a silly fair and a stuffed animal, and the raging want inside me isn’t even about her body right now. It’s bigger than that. It’s about fucking everything.