Chapter 32
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
mikey
Ellison’s Husband
Congrats man
I never thought I’d say this, but you won
Land’s all yours buddy
She’s a keeper btw
What’s that?” Juniper looked over my shoulder at my phone just as I swiped out of the messages.
“Nothing.” I slid my phone back into my pocket.
She narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “Okay…”
“Come on, we’ve gotta get on the road.” I changed the subject, opening the passenger door for her.
We were heading to Goldfinch this weekend for Gulch Days, the last condition of our fake-dating arrangement.
I didn’t really understand why she needed me to come with her to this event, what she needed from me in the first place, but I also didn’t question it or think about it too deeply.
She didn’t ask why I needed a fake girlfriend, so I didn’t ask her, either.
I thought some things were better off not knowing.
Eventually, we’d have to talk about our plans.
We’d have to figure out how we wanted to end things, or if we wanted to end things at all.
When Juniper and I first made the agreement, we knew this would have an expiration date, but we never really discussed what would happen when we reached that date.
Not to mention, we’d already broken nearly every single rule we’d agreed to.
An hour into the drive, the cab fell silent as though both of us were deep in thought.
“I—” I broke the silence at the same time she took a deep breath and said, “So…”
Both of us huffed out shallow laughs.
“You first,” I urged her on.
“So, I, uh…” She stumbled over her words. “What’s going to happen?”
“Well, we’re going to go to this festival,” I teased, and she glared at me.
“Mikey.”
“Juniper.”
“We should really talk about what this is. What we want to do.”
My chest heaved as I thought about how to respond. On one hand, it was nice to know we were on the same page, or at least half on the same page. On the other, I was afraid of what she might want. If she’d decided this relationship had run its course and wanted an exit strategy.
“What do you want to do?” I asked, wanting to hear her answer first.
She rolled her lips. “I’m not sure.”
Nervous energy swirled in my stomach. Her hesitation could mean she wanted to see what happened, or it could just mean she wanted to let me down easy.
“What if we just see how the weekend goes then decide from there?” I suggested.
She paused for a moment, as though contemplating and weighing her options. “I don’t see the harm in that. This…agreement has been mutually beneficial.”
A devilish grin pulled at my cheeks. “Damn, Peach, would it kill you to admit you like me?”
Juniper rolled her eyes. “How do you know I’m not just pretending to like you?”
I didn’t know. Not for certain at least. But I wanted to believe the glint in her eyes gave her away.
“Just a hunch.” I winked, taking her hand and lifting it to my lips to kiss her knuckles. “Who wouldn’t like me?”
She laughed, the sound like sunshine peeking through the clouds after a storm, breaking up the nervous energy in the air. “That’s the real question, isn’t it, Casanova.”
The streets of Goldfinch, Montana, were filled with people milling about for the festivities. Much like the Bucking Horse Sale, the fairgrounds were used as an event space as well as the main road running through town.
Businesses had their doors open, welcoming visitors inside, but many also had tents set up on the sidewalk to attract people passing by.
Hanging from light poles above each intersection were decorations attached to cables.
Some had signs reading Gulch Days Annual Summer Kick-Off or Welcome to Goldfinch, Home of the SGU Miners.
I drove to the fairgrounds, deciding that would be the best place to park.
“They did bring in a Ferris wheel this year.” Juniper craned her neck as we turned the corner. “It’s always a bit hit or miss whether that happens.”
I’d never been to Gulch Days, even though I’d lived in Montana for years now. We were always either on the road, helping Colter on the ranch, or, in the case of last year, participating in wedding festivities.
“Do you come to this every year?” I asked, pulling to a stop in the parking lot.
“Almost every year. One time I went home for the summer, but I’d spent nearly every break between the school year here.” She unbuckled her seatbelt, but sat, waiting for me to get out and open her door.
I suppressed a smile, but on the inside, my heart was screaming.
When I opened my door, the smell of fried food hit my nostrils immediately. I opened June’s door and helped her out of the pickup, keeping her hand in mine as we walked toward the entrance gates.
“What do you want to do first?”
She knew more about this than I did, so I was more than willing to let her take the reins.
“I say let’s grab some food to snack on while we look at vendor tables first. They’ve got some carnival games that I want to kick your ass in”—she winked—“and then we can either ride the Ferris wheel or take a walk downtown. We’ve also got all day tomorrow, so we don’t have to do everything all at once. ”
We’d planned to stay the night in a hotel to really make the most out of the weekend.
“I’m along for the ride. Show me around, Peach.” I let her lead me to the food trucks as she pointed out her favorites.
“We’re going to have to eat it all, you know.” She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth.
“Good thing I haven’t eaten much today.” I chuckled as she pulled me up to a food truck selling stir-fried noodles.
Ten minutes later, our arms were full with noodles, mini corndogs, funnel cake, a snow cone, apple cider donuts, fried Oreos, and fried pickles. We laid out our spread on a picnic table—instead of walking through the vendors—and dug in, sharing plates and ranking our favorites.
“Apple cider donuts are my favorite, hands down,” Juniper mumbled through a mouthful. “They have my number one spot every time.”
I took a bite of the fried Oreo, immediately pushing the pickles away.
“You don’t like fried pickles?” Her jaw dropped, mouth gaping.
Wrinkling my nose, I shook my head. “I don’t like pickles at all.”
“That’s a criminal offense. Those are my second favorite.”
“I just can’t. Okay, my number one is the funnel cake. Last place is obviously the pickles. These Oreos aren’t bad, though.”
“Are there any other foods you don’t like? I’m prepared for my heart to break,” she teased, taking a sip of the peach mango snow cone that had already melted.
“I hate bananas. I love pear flavor, but I don’t like the taste of actual pears. I also don’t like corn.”
“What do you have against corn?” she cried out.
“I just don’t see the point? It gets stuck in my teeth and doesn’t taste good, so it’s more of an annoyance than anything. What about you?”
“All of the normal things. Brussels sprouts, licorice, mushrooms, blue cheese.” She started to list things off.
“Hold on, mushrooms?”
She narrowed her eyes. “Yes, I do not like mushrooms. Before you judge me, Mr. I-Don’t-Like-Corn, it’s the texture.”
“Fair enough. Can’t argue with that.”
We finished our food, my final ranking being funnel cake, fried Oreos, stir-fried noodles, apple cider donuts, mini corndogs, snow cone (it was too sweet), and pickles.
Her ranking was apple cider donuts, fried pickles, funnel cake, stir-fried noodles, snow cone, corn dogs, then Oreos last, to my surprise.
I accidentally let out a long, loud burp, immediately covering my mouth as heat rushed into my cheeks.
“Excuse you!” She giggled, and I was starting to think the sugar was going to her head.
I shook my head, a smile tugging on my lips, as we stood and I wrapped my arm around her shoulders. “Where to next? Please don’t say rides. I don’t know if my stomach can handle that.”
“What, you don’t want to go on the Tilt-A-Whirl?”
My face contorted into a grimace. “Not if you don’t want it to be a Puke-A-Whirl.”
She pursed her lips. “Noted. Shall we go look at the vendors or play carnival games?”
“How about let’s do the vendors here and go downtown, then I can kick your ass in carnival games tomorrow.” I winked, grabbing her hand and giving it a squeeze.
Juniper scowled, but I knew it was all in good fun when she muttered, “Good luck with that. I’m the best at carnival games.”
The vendors here at the fairgrounds were set up in one of the large exhibition buildings.
The air conditioning hit us with a cool blast when we stepped inside, and Juniper let out a content sigh.
I didn’t think it was that hot outside with it only being the end of May, but it brought relief, nonetheless.
This trade show wasn’t too large, with four different rows to walk down and about fifteen businesses in each one. The products ranged from paintings to handmade crafts to sourdough bread.
I had to admit, I wasn’t a big patron of trade shows or farmers markets. A lot of the big rodeos we went to offered them as events, but I tended to avoid them because of the crowds.
This one was nice, though.
Juniper stopped at almost every booth, meticulously looking at what everyone had to offer. Occasionally, she’d strike up a conversation with the vendors like they were old friends.
“Pick out something that you want,” I told her after we’d walked through two of the rows. I’d caught her staring at some silver jewelry, looking like she was debating whether or not she wanted to get it.
“What do you mean?”
“Can’t I buy something for my girl?” I flashed her a smile.
Juniper put her hands on her hips, leaning her weight on one side of her body. “I seem to recall you saying you didn’t want to spend money on me.”
“What can I say? I’m a changed man,” I joked, but then added more seriously, “You’re worth it. You could tell me you wanted one of everything, and I’d gladly spend every penny.”
She snorted, rolling her eyes. “Okay, Romeo, no need to get ahead of yourself. Thank you, that’s very nice of you, but you don’t have to do that. I truly don’t need anything.”
When she wasn’t paying attention, I ended up buying some of the things she spent the most time admiring. A simple silver necklace with a small sapphire pendant and a handmade copper bracelet. I threw them in my pocket for safekeeping until I wanted to surprise her with them.
That night we went to Lucky Sevens, the college bar that Juniper worked at when she was in school. It wasn’t the same one the boys and I had gone to last year for Colter’s bachelor party, but it was fairly close by.
Goldfinch had three main college bars, all nestled in the same triangular area of downtown. Each bar was a point of the triangle, and it made for an easy way to bar hop.
Of course, there were other bars, but Lucky Sevens, Sippers, and The Sapphire Bar were the big three and very popular with the students at SGU.
The DJ was playing the classic nightclub selection—a mix of hip-hop, rap, and top twenty pop hits. A few bold people were on top of the bar shaking their hips, and the small dance floor was packed with bodies.
“Wanna brave the dance floor with me?” I asked, extending a hand.
She playfully slapped it away with a laugh. “No, not really.” Taking a sip of her drink, she surveyed the room.
Beer in hand, I watched her look around, scoping everything out.
“See anyone you know?”
Something flickered in her eyes at that. I wasn’t sure what it was, but her entire demeanor shifted.
“W-why do you ask that?”
I shrugged. “You just keep looking around like you’re trying to find someone.”
“Actually, I changed my mind. Let’s dance.” After throwing back the rest of her drink, she hopped down from her barstool, grabbing my hand to drag me onto the dance floor.
The bass thumped, echoing off the walls as she turned her back to me and I pulled her close. She ground her hips against my front, and blood rushed to my cock. Leaning in, I brushed my lips along the crook of her neck, breathing in her peachy floral perfume.
She tilted her head to look at me, and I gave her a quick peck, brushing her hair out of her face.
Still, despite being here with me, she seemed distracted, like her mind was preoccupied.
I didn’t have to be a rocket scientist to sense that something was off with her, but I also wasn’t sure I wanted to know what it was.
So, I tried to distract my mind, losing myself to the music and her body pressed against mine.