Chapter 20
twenty
S he’d done it.
Rosalyn sat on the packed floor in the quiet circus tent that evening, gazing up through the dim lighting at the red and white striped ceiling the way someone might gaze at a sky full of stars.
She’d actually run away to the circus.
She drew a deep breath of slightly musty air that offered a faint hint of peanuts and popcorns from the machines lining the side of the tent and pulled her knees up to her chest.
Outside, muted activity bustled around the grounds as Magnolia Days carried on, but the tent wasn’t open to the public until later in the week. She’d come in to rig her silks, learn the layout, make a plan for where she’d enter and begin her floor work before mounting the fabric.
But her first performance wasn’t until Wednesday night, and now, she wanted to stop. Take a moment. Soak it all in.
See what was left when it all dried up.
She twisted the scrunchie around her wrist. Talking to Zoey about leaving Magnolia Bay had left an ache in Rosalyn’s chest that wouldn’t quit. And as much as she liked the dark-haired, wide-eyed baker, it wasn’t because of her. Or because of Elisa, or Harper, or any of the townspeople she’d connected with. It wasn’t even because of her parents, or her niggling interest at getting back into church, learning how to pray again. All those factors contributed to the ache, but when Rosalyn got very still and honest, it all came down to one.
She was scared of falling.
Falling from her silks, if she went back to performing regularly.
And falling for Cade, if she found a way to stay.
Both potentials felt equally terrifying.
So she sat. Stared at the tent ceiling, lit right now only by rows of string lights, and relived her greatest moments in the spotlight over the years. Complicated inversions. Roll-ups that tested her strength. Flashing camera lights and medals looped around her neck. Invitations and champagne glasses and autographs. Kamikaze drops to the delighted gasps and applause of a packed house.
But there were also gasps of terror that time she unrolled, hit the ground. There was the blinding pain that shot through her knee, the fear that grasped her heart. The clang of ambulance doors and the set line of the doctor’s mouth as he shook his head. Declared her lucky.
Lucky. Was she? Or had God protected her—even from her own agenda and pride? Even though she’d never asked.
Rosalyn blinked up at the striped ceiling overhead, wishing she could peel back the canvas layers, peel back the evening sky dusted with stars, and see what was happening in the heavens.
See where her rusty prayers landed.
She rested her chin on her knees. God certainly didn’t owe her anything. She’d made a mess of things all by herself. And therefore, she needed to fix them.
Fix herself.
Then maybe she could finally feel the approval she sought.
The tent flap suddenly opened behind Rosalyn, scattering beams of fluorescent light across the ground and over her form. “There you are.”
Cade. She twisted around and blinked, held up one hand to shade her eyes and peer up at him. “There you are.”
He wore dark jeans and a black polo, looking as sharp and put together as always. Though, to be honest, her stomach probably would have dropped the same way even if he’d been in a clown costume. “I haven’t seen you all day.”
The flap dropped back, shielding them again in the dimmer light as he made his way toward her. “Sorry I didn’t respond to your texts earlier. It’s been a little hectic.” He didn’t hesitate or inspect the dirt-packed ground like she’d have expected. Instead, he dropped to the ground next to her, right there in the center of the empty tent, and drew his own legs up. Hooked his wrists around his bent knees.
She studied his profile next to her in the shadows, the line of his jaw. The dimple in his chin. He hadn’t been ignoring her. She’d assumed he was busy all day, but…it was nice to know that’s all it was. “So you heard about the porta-potties?”
“I did. And good thing, or I’d have been really confused when I saw Pastor Dubois toting a family full speed across the parking lot on a golf cart.” He smirked. “Thanks for arranging all that, by the way. My dad called in a request with a different company too, so we should be set soon.”
“That’s good news.”
He nodded. “Better late than never, I suppose.”
“Spill it. What else is wrong?”
“You don’t know?” He didn’t even try to deny it. “You might be the only person in Magnolia Bay who hasn’t seen the news.”
Rosalyn frowned. “What news?” She didn’t like the defeated slump in his shoulders, the forward pull of his brow. He’d been there through all of her issues the past few weeks—listening, forgiving, protecting her from her fears. The least she could do was return the favor.
He gazed upward toward the ceiling, like she’d been doing when he walked in. “Well, I have to admit—its small potatoes compared to the Mafia being after you.”
Rosalyn snorted. “I would love to only have a small potato right now.”
A grin flickered as he cocked his head toward her. “They’re serving cheesy Tater Tots in one of the food trucks. Does that count?”
“Sold. But after you tell me about your potato.”
He inhaled. Released it. “I’m running for mayor.”
Rosalyn frowned. “But you told me weeks ago when I first got here that you weren’t ready for that. You said, ‘Maybe one day.’”
He winced. “Apparently, my father has a different calendar than me.”
“I see.” Cade for mayor. She totally could see it. But…“You still aren’t ready, are you?”
“No. I went to Dad’s office today to tell him that, but he’d already announced it on the news.” This sigh was longer, deeper. “I’m also having a campaign party in a few weeks to start ‘winning over the town.’” He air-quoted with his fingers.
Rosalyn touched his arm, then immediately let go as her fingers fairly sparked on contact. “Don’t worry about the town voting for you. Everyone really seems to like you.” She grinned. “Except maybe Mrs. Peters. But hey, if you flex a little, I bet Madame Paulette will vote for you twice.”
“Ha.” He positioned his arms around his legs. Had he felt it too? “Liking me as a face for Magnolia Bay, as someone to run events and raise the money and bug about filling potholes, is a lot different from finding me capable of running the entire townlike my dad. I couldn’t even get this festival going without crises.”
“I never liked that word.” Rosalyn tilted her head. “ Crises . Seems like it should just be crisis-es.”
“Correcting that will be my first act as mayor.”
Finally, a smile from him. Rosalyn grinned back, but it only lasted as long as his—not very.
He continued, brow furrowing. “I don’t have a choice. Dad needs me to do this, so I will.” He cracked his neck to one side. “I’m a Landry.”
“You said that back in high school.” And she’d always hated it. Like he was rubbing in his family’s position and power, drawing lines between them. He was better, even when she won.
“I’m sure I did.” He stared at the ceiling. “Dad drilled it into me every time I got in trouble…so, a lot.”
Rosalyn waited a beat. “But you know it’s okay to just be Cade . Why are you so bent on self-sacrificing?”
He shot her a side-eye look. “What do you mean?”
“Why are you running for mayor when you don’t want to?” She matched his posture, hooking her arms around her knees.
“Technically, I never said I didn’t want to.”
She rolled her eyes. “You definitely did, if not with words.”
“Reading me like a book, huh, Ace? What is that, thirty-two now?” He winked.
Her stomach flipped. “Don’t start flirting with me to get out of this conversation.”
His grin inched higher. “It’s more fun that way.”
Good grief, this tent was getting warm. “I’m not arguing that.” She shifted into a more comfortable position, angling toward him, folding her legs to lean closer. “I’m just saying your opinion matters too. You shouldn’t have to do something you don’t want to because of some misplaced obligation to your dad.”
“Misplaced, huh?” Cade raised an eyebrow. “If I say something about pots and kettles, will you get mad?”
Her back stiffened. “My situation is different. I owe people—scary people—money.”
“But you’re determined to handle it on your own. Not talk to your parents, not get help.”
“Because it’s my problem to solve.”
He exhaled. “Like with the volcano, huh?”
“What do you mean?” She narrowed her eyes.
“Sixth grade. You wouldn’t let me help.” He waved a hand through the air. “Then got mad at me when I helped anyway, tried to make it more interesting to get us a better grade.”
She sorted. “More like you were goofing off. Trying to prove you were better than me.”
“No, I wasn’t.”
“But you thought you were.”
A muscle flexed in his jaw. “Did you ever think maybe I was trying to impress you?”
She sobered. No, she hadn’t. And that still didn’t make sense. “Why would you ever want to impress me? You were the Cade Landry. You had the football team doing your bidding and two prom dates. Everyone loved you. I was a nerd with safety goggles who could do splits in the air.”
“Or maybe they only loved me because of my family name and connections.” Cade pushed forward before she could form a response. “Regardless, you’re only making this money thing your problem now because you’re so bent on keeping secrets.”
Her chest heated. “I’ve told you more of my secrets than I’ve ever told anyone else.”
He leveled his gaze at her. “And why is that? Why me?”
“I don’t know.” No fair, him being so calm when she was so annoyed. Also no fair him looking so attractive when she was this annoyed.
“Think about it, Ace.”
Somehow, they’d inched closer to each other during the argument, and now, the tent shrunk until her senses could only absorb the fire lighting in her chest, the spark in Cade’s brown eyes, the spicy cedar scent of his cologne.
“I guess you seemed…trustworthy.”
He cocked his jaw. “Past tense?”
“Present.” She licked her dry lips, trying not to let her gaze fall to his mouth. He’d always challenged her, but this was new. This made her want to believe him.
Believe in them.
Silence pulsed between them. Comforting, like a quilt on a cozy night. One Rosalyn wanted to sink into.
Then—“I liked you in high school, you know.”
A sudden wash of cold shocked her body. “What?” Rosalyn’s eyes widened. “You never let on.”
“Why would I? Amber was always in your head.” He shrugged. “I guess I assumed you thought the same way about me that she did, so I eventually stopped trying to impress you.”
“I did let her influence me.” Rosalyn grimaced. “But Amber was wrong about you.” Should she tell Cade what she’d found out Harper?
His gaze fell to her mouth, then, and the last thing she wanted to do was talk about another woman.
But Cade didn’t lean in. He stayed steady, reclaiming her gaze with a new challenge. “Maybe I can tell my dad my secret about running for mayor if you tell your parents your secret.”
That, too, wasn’t fair. She shifted away. “You know I can’t tell my parents everything. Not yet. Some of it, not ever.”
“I understand, but…” Cade took her hand, his palm pure fire against hers. “Give people a chance to decide how they feel about you, Ace.”
She stared at their entwined fingers. “Are we still talking about my mom?”
“Did you ever think maybe your mom is proud of you and wants you to stick around?” He squeezed her hand. “I know I do.”
Her stomach twisted. “My future is a question mark. And you’re about to be mayor, or at the least, keep being the face of Magnolia Bay.”
“I know.” He grazed her fingers with his. “We’ve been around this loop a few times now, but it doesn’t change the fact I want to kiss you again.”
She swallowed hard. “I want you to kiss me too.” There went her stomach again. The air hummed.
He reached over with his free hand, tucked her loose hair behind her ear. His face lingered close to hers, and he squeezed his eyes shut as if in agony. “You understand why I can’t yet, right? Not until the dissolution is accepted.”
Her skin tingled, disappointment mixed with electricity. “I understand.” Pretty honorable stuff. Heroic.
Made her even more scared of falling.
But maybe some fears were good.
They held each other’s gazes, temptation thrumming. Her resolve weakened. How important was paperwork, really? A simple legality…
“Look, Ace, eventually, this will all be over.” His eyes held a promise, one that wasn’t moving to his lips but she heard loud and clear. “And then…” He tugged her forward, dropped a kiss on her forehead. “We’ll see what then looks like.”
It seemed like it was going to look like long-distance struggles and mayoral campaigns and endless aerial performances. But if he was holding out hope for a different story, maybe she could too. At the least, maybe they could live in denial a little longer.
Run away in the meantime to a circus of their own.
Cade leaned back, a spark lighting his eyes that made her think of freshman-year pranks and debate team wars. “Hey, there’s a whole festival going on out there, remember? Wanna go ride the Cajun carousel?”
Instead of kissing him? No. Rosalyn squinted, trying to let her emotions catch up, regulate. “That depends on what exactly makes it Cajun.”
“The animals.” Cade hopped up and tugged her to her feet. “There’s an alligator, a pelican…I call dibs on the crawfish though.”
“Of course.” She followed him out of the tent and into the festival.
Who needed a carousel when Cade had strapped them into a roller coaster?