Chapter 7
The drive home started in a heavy, contemplative silence, the hum of the car engine the only sound filling the space between them.
Evie rested her head against the cool window, her eyes following the blur of city lights streaking past. The dinner at the Reed estate had gone surprisingly well, but the tension of the evening still clung to her, coiling tightly in her chest.
As they drove through the city, the familiar route back home shifted unexpectedly when James turned down a different street.
“This isn’t the way we came,” Evie said, glancing at him curiously.
“Shortcut,” James replied, his voice calm, eyes on the road.
But as they rounded a corner, the quiet of the city gave way to something entirely different. Bright strings of lights crisscrossed above the road, glowing warmly against the night sky.
Crowds packed the sidewalks, their laughter and chatter blending with the upbeat hum of carnival music. Booths lined the street, their colorful signs advertising games, prizes, and fried treats.
“What’s going on?” Evie asked, sitting up straighter.
James slowed the car, his brow arching as he glanced at the street ahead. “Looks like a carnival.”
She turned to him, her eyes lighting up with something that hadn’t been there all night. “Pull over.”
“What?” James asked, his brows lifting as he glanced at her, one hand still resting casually on the steering wheel.
“Pull over,” Evie said, her voice firm but laced with amusement. She shifted in her seat, her excitement pulling her forward as if she couldn’t sit still. A small smile tugged at her lips, the kind that hinted she wasn’t taking no for an answer.
James glanced back at the road ahead, his fingers tapping once against the wheel. “You want to stop at a random street carnival?” he asked, his tone skeptical. He gave her a quick side glance, the corner of his mouth twitching like he couldn’t quite believe it. “At this hour?”
Evie rolled her eyes, leaning slightly toward him, her hands gripping the edge of her seat. “Yes. Stop being so boring.” Her smile widened as she gestured toward the glowing lights outside. “Come on, Reed. When’s the last time you had actual fun? Besides, you owe me. Remember?”
“Owe you?”
“Yes. I told you tonight’s dinner will cost extra. This is how I want it paid,” she demanded, crossing her hands over her chest like a kid doing business.
James let out a long breath, his hand tightening briefly on the steering wheel before he flicked on the turn signal. “Fine,” he muttered, his tone half-resigned, half-amused. “But if we end up in some cheesy tabloid headline about ‘the billionaire and the Ferris wheel,’ it’s on you.”
Evie grinned, unbuckling her seatbelt with quick, excited movements. “Deal. I’ll even autograph a copy for you.” She pushed the door open as the car rolled to a stop at the curb.
James shook his head as he stepped out, locking the car behind him with a beep.
He turned to find Evie already a few steps ahead, her heels clicking against the pavement as she headed toward the glow of the carnival lights.
She glanced back at him over her shoulder, her eyes sparkling with challenge.
“Well, come on,” she teased, tilting her head toward the bustling scene ahead. “Try to keep up.”
He caught up with her in a few long strides, falling into step beside her.
The festive chaos of the carnival enveloped them immediately: the laughter and chatter of the crowd, the bright flashing lights of game booths, and the smell of buttered popcorn and fried dough mingling in the cool night air.
Evie’s eyes darted from stall to stall, taking in the spinning Ferris wheel, the rows of stuffed animals hanging as prizes, and the colorful signs advertising funnel cakes and caramel apples. She turned to James, her excitement palpable.
“This is what life’s about, Reed,” she said, gesturing to the chaos around them.
They stepped out into the vibrant chaos of the carnival, the cool night air buzzing with energy and excitement. Strings of lights glowed overhead, and the cheerful din of music, laughter, and the occasional bark from a vendor filled the air.
Evie’s gaze darted from booth to booth, taking in the spinning Ferris wheel, the game stalls lined with oversized stuffed animals, and the food carts with their tantalizing smells of fried dough and caramel.
Her attention locked onto a stand selling cotton candy, the pink and blue clouds spinning behind the counter like edible magic. Without a word, she darted toward it, her eyes lighting up as she pulled out a few bills.
“One, please,” she said, her voice brimming with enthusiasm.
James followed at a slower pace, his hands in his pockets as he watched her with mild amusement. She accepted the oversized cone of spun sugar from the vendor, her grin widening as she tore off a piece and popped it into her mouth.
“You’re like a kid in a candy store,” James said, leaning casually against the side of the stand. His tone was teasing, but there was a softness in his eyes as he watched her.
“Because it’s fun,” Evie shot back, her voice muffled slightly as she chewed the sugary fluff. She tore off another piece, holding it out toward him. “Try it.”
James raised a brow, his lips twitching into a faint smirk. “I’m not five, Monroe.”
“No, but you act like it sometimes,” she quipped, her grin mischievous. “Come on, Reed. Live a little.”
He hesitated for a moment before leaning in, his gaze flicking briefly to hers before he took the piece from her fingers. Their hands brushed, just barely, but enough to send a strange spark skittering up her arm.
“It’s sugar,” he said flatly after a beat, his expression unimpressed though the faintest twitch of amusement tugged at the corners of his mouth.
“Exactly!” Evie said, laughing as she tore off another piece for herself. “It’s pure, simple joy.”
They wandered deeper into the carnival, the buzz of excitement pulling them toward a row of game booths. Brightly colored signs advertised oversized stuffed animals and goldfish in plastic bags as prizes. Evie’s eyes lit up as she spotted a booth lined with milk bottles stacked in a pyramid.
“Let’s do this one,” she said, nudging James with her elbow and pointing at the booth.
James raised a brow, his smirk firmly in place. “You think you can take me on?”
She tilted her head, grinning up at him. “Oh, no, Reed. This isn’t about competition. It’s about watching you lose.”
He chuckled, stepping up to the booth and handing over a few bills to the attendant. “We’ll see about that.”
The booth operator, a middle-aged man with a well-practiced carnival bark, handed James three baseballs.
“Knock all the bottles down and win the big prize!” he said, gesturing to a massive stuffed tiger hanging overhead.
James weighed the first ball in his hand, his movements calm and calculated as always. He lined up his shot, his brow furrowed in concentration. Then he threw it.
The ball hit the stack with a satisfying thunk but barely rattled the bottles. They sat fixed as if glued to the table.
Evie burst into laughter, clapping her hands. “That’s it? I thought you were supposed to be good at everything!”
James shot her a mock glare, his smirk tugging at the edges of his mouth. “Beginner’s luck.”
“Sure,” she teased, leaning against the side of the booth, the cotton candy still in her hand. “Keep telling yourself that.”
He picked up the second ball, rolling it in his palm before throwing it harder this time. It hit the stack dead center, but only the top bottle wobbled and fell. The rest remained stubbornly in place.
Evie doubled over, laughing so hard she had to clutch the edge of the booth to steady herself.
“Oh my god, this is the best thing I’ve ever seen.”
“You’re enjoying this way too much,” James muttered, his grin breaking through as he reached for the final ball.
“Just think of it as character-building,” she said, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye.
James exhaled slowly, aiming carefully, and threw the last ball with all the precision of a man trying to salvage his dignity. The bottle pyramid shuddered but held.
Evie was in hysterics now, barely able to contain herself.
“You’re terrible at this! How does someone so... calculated fail at carnival games?”
“Maybe the game’s rigged,” James said, crossing his arms as he leaned against the counter.
“Excuses, excuses,” Evie said, stepping up to the booth. She handed the attendant another bill and picked up one of the balls. “Let me show you how it’s done.”
James watched as she threw the first ball with absolutely no technique, sending it veering off to the side without touching a single bottle.
“Wow,” he said dryly, crossing his arms. “Incredible form.”
“Shut up,” Evie shot back, laughing as she grabbed the second ball. This one managed to knock over a single bottle, sending it tumbling to the floor. “See? Progress.”
James smirked. “At this rate, you’ll win the consolation prize.”
With her final ball, Evie managed to topple another bottle, making all the bottles lose balance and fall to the ground. The booth operator handed her a small stuffed turtle, which she held up triumphantly. “Victory!”
James shook his head, his laughter soft but genuine. “A small, slightly pathetic victory.”
“Oh, don’t be bitter,” Evie said, holding the turtle out to him. “Here. A consolation prize for your efforts.”
“I don’t want your pity prize,” James said, but he took the turtle anyway, tucking it under his arm. “Let’s just say this one’s for you.”
“Sure it is,” she said, bumping him lightly with her shoulder as they walked away from the booth.
As they strolled away from the game booths, Evie wrapped her arm loosely through James’s.
“Don’t worry, Reed,” she said with a grin, patting his bicep like she was consoling him. “Not everyone can handle the pressure.”
Her hand remained in place, wrapped around his. And somehow, he didn't shake her off.