Chapter 6
chapter
six
Temple
My husband is holding my hand as we walk towards the crowds at the county fairgrounds. Piglet is trotting along next to me, his leash, for the most part, unnecessary because he won’t willingly leave my side. But I never want to take chances when it comes to my boy.
I’m wearing a brand new, adorable dress that’s part sundress, part vintage pin-up girl style. It’s got abstract wildflowers drawn all over it and I’ve gotta say, the halter is doing fabulous things for my boobs. I paired it with a fabulous new pair of cowgirl boots.
“Have I told you how nice you look?” Flynn asks.
“Not in detail,” I say with a smile. “I found the cutest store downtown this morning when you went for a run. Got the whole ensemble there.
Frankly, it had been surprising, to say the least, to find a shop in such a small town that stocks cute clothes for plus sized women. The two women who co-own the store, Madison and Jade, are both curvy girls, so that probably explains it. Still, it felt fortunate. I had not packed anything that felt appropriate to wear to a small town, outdoor festival.
“Well, it all looks great on you.”
“I wanted to make sure I looked worthy of being your arm candy.” I hip check him. Am I flirting with my not-quite-real husband? Maybe. Or maybe I’m fishing for compliments and basking in the glow of whatever attention he gives me.
Having to pretend to be in love—in public—will be no hardship for me. I’ve crushed on Flynn since I was a girl. And he’s only gotten hotter as we’ve grown up.
Daisy and I had hit it off that summer when we’d met at choir camp. I’d seen glimpses of her older brother from the car window when he’d drop her off and pick her up. Shortly after school had started, they’d had auditions for the school musical. That year we would be doing Seven Brides for Seven Brothers . I tried out for all of the matronly parts only to be mortified when the choir director cast me as one of the sisters.
At the time I wasn’t the biggest girl in choir, but I was close to it. Far heavier than most of the other fifteen-year-old freshmen. Knowing that some puny high school choir boy was going to have to carry me off stage in a scene made me want to fall into a hole.
It had gotten even worse when I overheard some of the boys in the cast discussing it, almost drawing straws as to who would have to carry the heifer, as they’d called me. But when it came time for the first day of rehearsal, Flynn had shown up as my partner. He’d been the one to carry me that day in practice and every day thereafter.
I heard a rumor he’d asked the choir director for the part, and I asked Flynn about it one day. He’d tilted my chin up to look at him and told me I was perfect just the way I was and not to let anyone ever tell me differently.
My poor teenage heart hadn’t stood a chance. Not against Flynn’s kindness. He’d been saving me since I was a girl, and I wish I knew one way I could thank him for always being my hero.
“I’ll get to meet the rest of your friends tonight, right?” I ask.
“Yeah, they should all be here.” His hand squeezes mine. Then he stops walking abruptly. He bends and scoops Piglet up. Flynn nods to the swollen crowds of people ahead of us. “Don’t want him to get trampled.”
Why does that make me want to cry? Probably because it’s a show of real affection. Even if that affection is for my dog. It’s been just me and Piglet against the world for a while now. Especially since Daisy moved overseas.
Flynn’s gaze searches my face. He frowns. “Are you okay?”
I nod. “Just missing your sister like a sentimental fool.”
He nods. “Seems like it’s past time for her to come home.”
“Maybe when she does, she’ll join us here in Saddle Creek. I am already in love with this town.”
We walk under the banner that reads: Saddle Creek’s Forty-seventh Annual Bluebonnet Festival .
There are a variety of tents along the far side and one large one with a raised stage. A band is playing. Country music, of course. And there’s a make-shift dance floor in front of that. Looks like it’s made of plywood covered in either sawdust or cornmeal. Only a few old-timers and little kids are dancing at the moment.
I do my best to not focus on how right Flynn’s big fingers threaded through mine feels. He looks good enough to eat, with his worn-in jeans and scuffed boots. The black t-shirt brandishing a logo on the back for Great Dane’s Dog Sanctuary molds to his broad shoulders.
It’s on my tongue to ask him about it, when “Yo! Harrington!” rings through the crowd.
“For fuck’s sake,” Flynn mutters under his breath.
The guy comes forward, backwards ball cap covering his dark blond hair. He’s a little shorter than Flynn, but stockier. When he sees me, his handsome face splits into a huge smile.
“This the old ball and chain?” He gives me a wicked grin and a wink. “I’m Beau. Flynn’s hot friend. I gotta say, when we found out he was married, we kinda thought he made you up.”
That makes me laugh and I’m instantly charmed. I can already tell that Beau is one of those people that you meet and feel like you’ve known them your entire life.
“Temple, this is Beau, the crazy one of the group. Beau, this is my wife, Temple.”
My wife, Temple.
I think that made my panties a little damp. Which is weird. Could also be caused by Flynn dropping my hand and wrapping an arm around my waist, pulling me close to him.
I hold my hand out to Beau. “I can assure you, I am the very real and not at all made-up wife.”
“I can see that, darlin’” Beau says.
“Fuck off, Beau. Go find your own wife.”
Beau just laughs good-naturedly. “Come on you two love birds. The rest of the team is over by the beer tent.”
“Of course they are,” Flynn says. He leans close to my ear. “Do you drink? Seems like something I should know.”
“On occasion. Though beer is not my favorite.”
“We’ll find you something else.”
“Shelby’s drinking a hard lemonade,” Beau says as we walk towards a group of guys. “Homemade too. Smells amazing.”
Flynn’s eyes cut to mine. “Want one of those?”
“Sure.”
“Dude,” Beau says. “Did you know you have some sort of furry creature growing out from under your arm?”
Flynn nods. “That’s Piglet.”
“That is not a pig,” Beau says.
“He’s a dog,” I say.
Beau looks at me, his gaze unbelieving. “You sure about that?”
I laugh. “I am. I even had his DNA tested. He’s mostly Papillon, but he’s got a bit of Corgi, Chihuahua and Maltese mixed in there.”
Beau makes a huh noise. “Cute,” he says dryly.
I reach over and cover Piglet’s ears. “Don’t you listen to him, baby. Mama thinks you’re beautiful. Yes, she does. And I think Daddy does too.”
I’m just playing a part. Being silly. But my words slam into me with all the unintended meanings. It’s then that I notice my boobs are pressed right up on Flynn’s other arm. I might as well be climbing the man.
“Daddy,” Beau repeats with a snort.
I pull away from my not-quite-real-husband and then we’re enveloped by the crowd. His Army buddies and spouses, I assume.
Cruz nods from one of the seats around the picnic table the group has commandeered.
“Hey Temple,” he says with a friendly nod.
“Hi again, Cruz.”
Then there are two women making their way through the group of guys.
“I’m Shelby, Dane’s wife.” She points over her shoulder and a big, broad and thick cowboy raises his beer bottle in my direction.
“And I’m Lucy. I belong to that behemoth over there. Jack!” she calls out.
Jack—I’m assuming—looks up and smiles at her. “You need something, Pocket?”
“Nope,” she says, hitting that P hard. “Just showing off your pretty face.”
He is, in fact, very attractive and big. In fact, all of the guys seem to be. Flynn introduces the rest of the guys. There’s the babyfaced Evan, whom they all seem to call ‘kid’ or ‘doc’, and Liam who greets me politely, then goes back to leaning against the table, eyes dark and brooding. And just like that I’ve met them all.
Flynn hands me Piglet and I do another round of introductions while my husband walks off to grab us drinks.
“We’re so glad to have another wife in the group,” Shelby says. “Lucy and I have known each other forever. So it’s really nice to have someone new.”
“I hope you’re causing Flynn all kinds of trouble,” Lucy says with a grin.
“I’m pretty sure he thinks I’m a handful,” I admit.
“I have big hands, I can manage,” Flynn says from behind me. One of said big hands lands on my hip and squeezes. “Here you go, Angel.” He holds out a plastic cup filled with ice and lemonade.
“Thank you,” I say.
He’s all nonchalant like he didn’t just call me ‘Angel’ or squeeze my hip or admit he has big enough hands for me. If we were in a Regency novel, I would be swooning right now. Instead, we’re at a ridiculously charming small-town festival with friendly people who seem legitimately glad to meet me. And my hot as fuck husband is manhandling my hips.
I don’t know if I’m going to survive the evening with my practical cotton panties intact.