Chapter 15
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
ADDISON
“Nice flower,” I say quietly as I walk through the festival beside Riley. Her brother and his friend are a few steps ahead of us.
She does this adorable little half-shrug, half-squirm. “I know it’s silly.”
“No, I mean it. You look cute.”
You always look cute, I add to myself. I would say it out loud if we were alone, but I’m not sure what she’s told her brother about our relationship. Friendship. Situationship?
Okay, no. I’m too old to be using that slang.
Until I know if she’s come out to him, though, or if she even intends to, I need to act casual around her. Unless we’re alone. And then I somehow lose all my senses and go down on her in the middle of my fucking place of employment.
I cut off that train of thought before it can get rolling, because there’s no way I can act casual right now if I’m picturing what we did last night.
Thankfully, she’s chosen to dress down today, in shorts and a white shirt that’s tied at her hip, instead of one of those sundresses that make her entirely too irresistible.
The kind that makes it too easy for me to just slip underneath.
She’s also got a blue ballcap on her head, which I’m assuming is meant to offer at least a minimal amount of identity protection. While she’s spent her time here walking around without worries, I’m betting it feels different today when there’s so many people and not all of them are local.
“Are you hungry?” she asks, brushing past my compliment. But I notice the faint pink on her cheeks, lighter than the flower painted there.
“I could eat something,” I tell her. I scan the area, taking in the options. “I also want to stop and talk to Brenden to see how everything’s going.”
Riley points in the direction of the inn’s booth. “We stopped over there pretty early, but it looks like they’ve had a long line ever since.”
“That’s good. I hope I made enough food.” Shaking my head, I add, “And I hope Brenden listens to me and hasn’t tried to go near it.”
That makes her laugh, and although I was being serious, I feel a tiny burst of joy at my ability to amuse her.
“He did mention he was under strict instructions when we talked to him,” she says. “But come on, let’s go.” She gets her brother’s attention to tell him we’ll catch up in a minute, then leads me away.
The smug, knowing look on Brenden’s face when Riley and I approach the booth makes me immediately regret coming to check up on things. He’s in charge today. I should’ve let him drown if that’s what is happening.
“Oh hello, there.” He sounds way too pleased with himself. As if me showing up at the festival to see Riley after I kept insisting that I wasn’t coming has anything at all to do with him.
“Zip it,” I tell him. Riley looks confused, while my annoying boss laughs. “How’s everything going? No problems?”
For a second, he just stares at me with his lips pressed together in a thin line. Then he mimes unzipping them and lets loose a wild grin. “Yup! Everyone’s raving about the crepes. And strawberry shortcake is always a staple for the summer festival, so those are selling quickly.”
Nodding, I step over to observe Sam working on a crepe. I watch him fill it, and then once I’m satisfied that he’s folding it correctly, I return my attention to Brenden.
We talk for a minute, with Riley at my side happily adding to the conversation, and then Brenden’s eyes flick past me, and he gets an absolutely gooey look on his face.
I’m not surprised when I turn to find Travis walking up to us.
But I am surprised when I see another man with him who’s rolling over a grill.
I haven’t lived here long, but I’m well aware of Travis’s heavy reluctance to participate in these town things.
It’s something I like about him. And yet here he is, holding bags of hotdog and hamburger buns, so I’m guessing his reluctance was no match for his boyfriend’s insane enthusiasm.
Riley and I say hi, then leave him to get set up next to Brenden’s booth.
As we walk off to find Andrew and Toby, I let the back of my hand brush against hers. “Have I mentioned how cute you look?”
“You mean the face paint?”
“I mean you.”
“Oh,” she says softly. Then she gives me a very obvious once-over from beneath the brim of her baseball cap. “You look fucking hot.”
Well, damn.
I’m aware that she finds me attractive, given she’s hooked up with me, but hearing her be unafraid to say it out loud almost makes me stumble my step.
For a woman who only very recently discovered her sexuality, she seems to be having no issues with accepting it.
That doesn’t mean the issues won’t arise at some point, though.
I’m too smart to think that everything will be smooth sailing from here on out.
She might have happily accepted herself for who she is, but that doesn’t mean her management, her fans, and the media will show the same acceptance.
And what will she do then?
Not knowing the answer to that question is why I need to keep reminding myself to not get too involved with her. Obviously, I’ve already screwed up by fucking her twice, and truthfully, I have no intention of stopping that for as long as she’s here and she wants me.
But I absolutely cannot get emotionally involved. That’s practically asking to have my heart thrown in a blender again. And it’s already been pureed from my last relationship.
So I shoot her a raised eyebrow and a flirtatious grin and keep walking.
When we find the guys, they’re standing at the start of a blocked off portion of the street in between the opposite rows of storefronts.
There’s a very long table set up in the middle of the street.
Actually, it looks to be made up of multiple plastic tables as well as a bunch of picnic tables, all pushed against each other.
A few people are walking around, draping white cloths over everything.
“What’s going on here?” I ask.
“Pie-eating contest!” Toby says. “It starts in an hour.”
“They do it every year,” Andrew adds.
Riley’s eyes widen in delight. “Oh yeah! I can’t believe I forgot about this. Is it still blueberry pies?”
“Yup,” Andrew tells her. Then to me, he says, “And just so you know, you’re hanging out with a bonafide two-time Mayweather pie-eating champion.”
“You’ve won twice?” I ask him.
He laughs loudly. “Nope. Not me. I’m talking about my little sister here. She may look tiny, but she can sure suck things down like a Hoover.”
Toby groans and smacks him in the chest. “Ew gross, man. You can’t say that about your sister!”
Andrew immediately looks horrified. “Ugh, fuck you. No! I didn’t mean it like that!”
I turn my gaze on Riley, who, to her credit, doesn’t look offended. Only mildly embarrassed. “I’m so glad I’m learning this interesting fact about you,” I tell her, unable to keep the teasing tone out of my voice.
“Shut up,” she says, shaking her head.
“It sounds so glamorous, though. Winning the Mayweather pie-eating contest. I’m duly impressed.”
She shoots me a glare, but there isn’t much heat behind it. “Okay, for the record, I was a teenager when I won. And both times, I regretted it when I had a stomachache for the rest of the day.”
“Is this eating the most pies?” I ask. “Or who can eat the fastest?”
“It’s who can finish two whole pies first,” Toby says.
“Wow, I think I’ll need to see a display of these skills in order to believe it.”
Riley shakes her head vigorously. “Not a chance.”
“You know what’s even more impressive than a two-time pie-eating champ?” I say, goading her playfully. “A three-time champ.”
Laughing, she says, “Good thing I’m not trying to impress you.” And then she nudges my side and winks at me.
I gasp, pretending to be hurt, but I like this side of her. The silly, unguarded side. The way she is when she’s not really thinking about it, when she’s not worrying about maintaining her public persona and not afraid she might be bothering anyone.
I feel lucky that I’ve gotten the chance to get to know her and to see the real woman behind the guitar and the songs.
And I’d also really like to see her shoving her pretty face into a blueberry pie, but I’m sure that’s not going to happen.
She might be able to let her guard down around me and her brother. But I doubt she’s willing to let the entire town and these tourists witness Riley Rowland getting messy.
Turning back to the guys, I ask, “Are you two going to enter?”
“I’m watching so I can write about it for the paper,” Toby explains.
“Count me out,” Andrew says, shaking his head.
Right then, a child comes barreling our way. He tries to dodge us but knocks into Riley, who lets out a surprised, “Oh!” as she falls into me. My arm comes around her waist to steady her, and she apologizes to me as if it was somehow her fault.
“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” I tell her, squeezing her into me a little tighter before letting her go.
“Ah, crap, I’m sorry,” Connor Shaw says as he rushes over to us, a bit out of breath. His eyes track the boy to where he’s now standing on the sidewalk on the other side of the street, staring up at a flowerbox outside of the drugstore. “Mason, you need to watch where you’re going!”
The boy, who I assume is his son, waves his arm behind his back, giving a thumbs up.
Connor sighs and shakes his head. “He’s usually better behaved than that. But he’s recently become obsessed with squirrels, and when he sees one, that’s all he can focus on.”
“No worries, we’re fine,” Riley says with a smile.
Connor’s eyes widen a tad as he looks at her, suggesting he wasn’t really paying attention to who he was talking to while he was stressed about his son. “Oh. Hey, Riley. Haven’t seen you in forever. Well, except on TV and the internet and stuff.”
Riley looks momentarily tongue-tied, her face going through a couple complicated expressions before she says, “Yeah, I’m visiting for a while. It’s good to see you.”