Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
Liz’s breath caught in her throat as determination flashed in Carson’s eyes.
He closed the distance between them, and excitement lit her nerve endings.
Conscious thoughts ceased to exist as she rode the wave of sensation.
The lightest brush of his lips against hers.
Then the more urgent pressure that begged for more.
Tongues meeting—tentative strangers at first, then the familiar tangle of old lovers.
His hands, strong and assertive, on the back of her neck, drawing her closer.
Her fingers slid through his hair as if trying to keep him from leaving again.
In heartbeats that felt like lifetimes, everything fell into place. Felt right. Like home. Like the piece of her that she hadn’t even known was missing had finally been found.
Her heart hammered in her ears when they eventually pulled part. Resting his forehead against hers, Carson whispered, “How was that?”
“Good,” Liz rasped. “It was good.” Holy hell. It was fan-freaking-tastic. Better than she remembered. Had he always done that twisting thing with his tongue?
He gave the back of her neck another fluttery stroke then sat back a bit and let his gaze drop to her chest before pulling it back to her face. A hint of his smug smile took up residence. “Yeah. Looks like it was okay.”
Dammit. Why wasn’t it colder today? Her light, unzipped jacket wasn’t nearly enough to camouflage the effects he had on her body. How the hell had he made her nipples that hard in that short a time? His hands hadn’t even strayed below her neck.
The man was an evil genius.
And apparently one hell of a good showman. At least if the wolf whistles and applause were anything to go by.
Liz quickly zipped up and worked on cooling her overzealous hormones. It was a kiss. For show.
Sure, it might have been the best kiss she’d ever had, but so what? It wasn’t like one kiss meant there was something between them. No. It probably meant that they knew each other well enough to make it believable.
And judging by the faces of the people nearby, they’d done exactly that.
Satisfaction radiated from the clump of women over near the fountain as Bea, Etta May, and Tanya from the Hair Castle whispered amongst themselves.
On the opposite corner, Keith from the auto parts store was busy frowning at a piece of paper while Mack from the neighboring tire service center jabbed at his phone.
Sure, they might all be minding their own business, but in a town Cloverfield’s size, the odds were much more in favor of them being all up in someone else’s business.
Especially when buzzes and pings peppered the air and nearly everyone within eyesight pulled out their phones at the same time, glanced at the screens, and then looked at Liz and Carson.
Liz’s gaze snagged on a human-sized rainbow-colored snail giving her what was possibly an enthusiastic thumbs up. It was hard to tell because there weren’t discernible digits.
“Welp,” Carson said, nudging Liz. “Guess that makes us official.”
Yeah. But officially, what? Crazy? Liz looked at Carson before turning back to the crowd. Normal people she recognized? Check. Huge snail? Nowhere to be found.
Relief and confusion warred in Liz’s mind. “So, what now?” she asked. God help her. She needed to pull it together. Give her brain cells a kick in the pants and get them back to being productive members of society. Before she started seeing more weird-ass hallucinations.
He shrugged. “I guess we keep going.”
Right. Keep going. Too late to back out now. After all, as Gwen had reminded her time and time again during the low points of her life, the only way out was through.
Carson pulled her close again and gently touched his lips to hers.
Liz suppressed a sigh. Yep. Definitely too late to back out. So what if she happened to enjoy it.
A high-pitched wail pierced the air. “But I wanna pet the whale!”
What the—
Carson pulled his lips from hers, and they watched a green-and-white striped whale speed waddle past them as a child was being restrained by a frustrated-looking man not far behind. “You see that too, right?” he asked.
Liz nodded. “Unfortunately.”
Carson snorted. “Never in a million years would I have taken Cloverfield as a furry mecca.”
“Furry mecca?” Liz’s brain cells scrambled to form some sort of coherent explanation. Was the festival crew trying something new this year? Were these all hired actors?
“Um, Liz?”
“Yeah?”
“You sure this is Flurry Fest?” Carson asked, his focus on his phone.
“Yeah. Why?” A small, niggling feeling pecked at the back of her brain.
“You might want to look at this.” He help up his screen.
Pictures of downtown Cloverfield filled his screen. Liz’s niggling sensation blossomed into dread when she saw the associated social media hashtags. #FurryFestVa. #CloverfieldFurryFest. #AnnualFurryFest.
Snatching his phone, she tapped on the hashtags. Sure enough, while there were links to legit furry sites, there were also links to the official Cloverfield Flurry Fest site.
Shit.
Not that she didn’t want furries in town—she was a firm believer in “to each their own”—but if they came all this way expecting a furry fest…
Even though she wasn’t directly involved in the town’s festivals, if En-Su did any sort of digging on her, which they were bound to do, her name would most certainly come up in relation to anything Cloverfield.
She didn’t know where the company stood on furries, but this was definitely not what Toni meant by lying low and keeping out of the public eye.
She shoved Carson’s phone back at him and pulled out her own, quickly firing off a series of texts.
In the text chain with her besties, Gwen told her to send the furries to her shop while Maya told her to ask them if they needed lodging.
In the chain with her fellow committee members, Abram asked what the hell a furry was, and Bea wondered if they needed any skin care items after being stuck inside their animal suits all day.
Thank God Davis understood her urgency.
On it, he replied.
“Think someone’s trying to sabotage the festival?” Carson asked.
“If they are, they’re going to be in for a world of hurt.” Liz clicked on link after link trying to find the potential source. She let out a groan.
“What?”
“I think I found the source.” All roads seemed to lead back to one post from one person. “When the hell did she get on social media?” Liz muttered.
“Who?”
“Annie.”
“For Cloverfield’s sake, I hope it’s not the Annie I think it is.”
“Oh, it’s definitely the Annie you think it is.”
Carson grimaced. “At least that means it was probably an honest mistake.”
“True.” But publicity didn’t care when it came to screwups.
Davis jogged up to them, a harried look on his face. “Wow. Thanks for the heads-up on that.”
“Glad to help,” Liz replied.
“Any idea how—”
“Annie,” she replied.
“Dammit!” Davis looked up at the sky as if searching for additional patience. Letting his head drop back down, he rubbed his forehead. “I didn’t think she even had social media.”
“She didn’t.”
“Great. Now I have to hunt down whoever got her online…”
Carson chuckled. “Still thinking moving to Cloverfield was a good idea?”
“Some days I really wonder,” Davis said as he scrubbed his hands through his hair. A lovesick grin worked its way across his lips. “But then I go home to Maya, and she reminds me why I chose this crazy-pants town after all.”
Liz clenched her hands together over her chest, sniffed, and blinked as if keeping her fake tears in check. “So sappy.”
Davis poked a finger at her. “Hey. Don’t harsh my sap. Besides,” he wagged his finger at the two of them, “I hear there’s a decent amount of sappery going on between the two of you.”
“Sappery?” Liz echoed.
“Sappery.” Davis nodded for emphasis. “Anything you want to share with the class?”
“You mean other than the fact that you are a gigantic pain in my ass sometimes?”
“What she means,” Carson said placing a hand on her thigh, “is that we’re still figuring things out. Right?” he added with a squeeze.
Oh, crap. The betting pool. She focused on letting her annoyance with Davis go and relaxed into Carson. “Right. So, how big of a hole do we have to dig ourselves out of with this whole Furry Fest thing, and what do you need me to do?”
Davis shrugged. “Honestly? I have no idea. Maybe just be on alert and help put out any fires that pop up? I have Tessa on it.”
“Tessa is his sister,” Liz clarified for Carson’s benefit.
“She has an event planning business and does a shit ton with social media. Once she stopped laughing, she assured me she’d clear up whatever she could online to hopefully keep it semi-contained. Although I don’t know that I’d be all that mad if it caught on.”
“Ew. If I have to hear about you and Maya getting it on in a couple of sweaty animal costumes…” Liz loved dishing with her friends, but there were certain aspects of their love lives she did not need to hear about.
Davis looked at her like she suddenly grew a second head. “For the money.”
“I’ve read that furry conventions can definitely be a boon for a community,” Carson said.
“Same,” Davis agreed.
“Is there some kind of saturation point where a town can host too many events?” Liz pondered.
Carson tilted his head and frowned. “I’m sure there is. I mean, you don’t only have to factor in profits and losses, but also things like fatigue, interest, space…”
“And don’t forget people power.” Davis shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “I’m applying for grants as fast as I can, but the wheels of finance can be depressingly slow. Especially when it comes to government funds. I’m only one person.”
Liz sighed. “I know. It’s a balance between needing to grow and needing more money, time, and energy to allow the growth so you have more people to help with the growth.” The bane of businesses everywhere.
A quick burst of rubber-duck horn honks preceded the arrival of Etta May in her golf cart. She squealed to a stop next to Davis and shot him an incredulous look. “Why didn’t you tell me this was a costume festival? Do you have any idea how stupid I looked when Elmer rolled up in his hair suit?”
“Oh, God,” Davis muttered, palming his face while Carson echoed, “Hair suit?”
Although Liz really didn’t want to make whatever connection Etta May was alluding to, having no real desire to envision a hair suit, it came to her within seconds anyway. She didn’t want to imagine the possibility of a furry slash Woodbooger-hunter crossover event.
“It’s not a costume party, Etta May,” Davis said with the patience of a saint. “They’re furries. Someone accidentally left the L out of Flurry Fest on social media.”
Etta May blinked. “Oh.” Her expression ran a quick gamut of understanding and disappointment before settling on inspiration.
Liz wasn’t sure she liked the twinkle in the older woman’s eyes.
It was one thing for Etta May and her crew to be on the lookout for the local bigfoot creature, but Liz did not need injury added to insult should some wayward furry find their way into the woods.
“Swear to me right now that you’re not planning on hunting those poor, innocent people. ”
Etta May’s jaw dropped as indignation rearranged her features. “As if. I’m hosting my team tonight. Temperature’s supposed to drop like a rock, so we’ll all be lounging around in our suits. Thought maybe they’d want to join.”
Davis’s eyes narrowed. “No torturing the nice tourists?”
Etta May crossed her heart and held up her hand. “Swear on Larry.”
Davis rolled his eyes and waved her away. “Fine. But don’t make me hunt you down.”
“As if you could find me!” With a cackle she stepped on the gas and peeled toward the clump of furries.
Davis stared after her, shaking his head. “God help them.”
“I take it Etta May’s still heavily entrenched in all things Woodbooger,” Carson said.
“Yep,” Liz replied.
Davis’s pocket pinged, and he pulled out his phone. A smile blossomed on his face as he looked at it. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to see a farmer about a Fuzz.”
“Don’t let him near the furries,” Liz warned. While their mayor was typically well-behaved, she wouldn’t put it past Fuzz to try to nibble them to death.
“I’ll do my best!” Davis called as he trotted away.
“Wow.” Carson shook his head slowly.
“Never a dull moment.” She leaned into him again, snuggling in when he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Face it. You’ve missed this place.”
“Maybe.”
Despite his noncommittal answer, Liz had the sneaking suspicion he actually had missed Cloverfield.
Or, at least, that maybe the town as it was now held a bit more appeal than the town they grew up in.
Which meant maybe she was one baby step closer to making him see that selling his uncle’s business was not the most advantageous solution.
And while it may have only been one baby step, it was a baby step she was willing to build on.