CHAPTER FIVE
ZACK
“Now that’s pretty.” Jordan’s low whistle turned my head where we stood amongst the fair crowd at the end of Lantern Drive.
And the rest of me. Hell, I nearly fell head over my sneakers just staring at my date for the night.
The sun had set hours before as I pushed through helping my sister set up her pop up shop when her assistant wasn’t available for the night and closed up her regular shop.
Stars studded the clear sky above the glow of the tiny lights that were wound around every market stall that lit up the festival which was in full motion.
Crowds gathered about us, and scents of cinnamon and pumpkin spice scented the cool night air.
It didn’t take much to find Hazel. There she stood, her blonde hair bobbing prettily about her shoulders, gripping a small purple purse between her hands.
A matching fluffy cardigan thing covered her shoulders over a slightly lighter colored top that left me guessing at the shape of her.
From the waist down… Hazel took her own advice and had gone with the night’s theme.
A purple and green skirt that brushed the tops of her thighs was paired with black tights decorated with tiny green velvet bats. On her feet were ballet slippers that looked like they might fall apart the moment she took a single step.
Cute, sweet and delicate. I knew she was so much more than all that underneath.
The glimpse she gave me into that other side of her in the classroom left me craving to leaf through the layers of the pristine outer shell that she presented daily and discover the real Hazel Templeton.
I suspected she was giving a damn fine show of that tonight.
My mouth fucking watered that she let me see her like this.
Still neat and tidy and prescribing to school rules.
But letting herself be her at the same time. Pride for the woman I was starting to understand tightened my chest.
“Shit, boy. You’re making a mess.” Jordan laughed at me as he tapped two fingers beneath my chin, closing my mouth for me. “Hell, you are in love aren’t you? Shaved clean and all.” He whistled again.
“Shut the fuck up.” I rubbed my smooth chin ruefully, though my senses were on high alert that he’d noticed her already.
Hell, looking like that, everyone in the vicinity saw her. Hazel seemed to have no idea of the attention that she drew as she blinked and scanned the crowd, clearly overwhelmed with the excess of pumpkin razzle-dazzle.
Jordan’s noisemaking turned her head. She waved through the crowd already gathered around the stand I leaned against that sold scented candles—vanilla and lavender warred for attention—and made her way across the fairgrounds toward us.
“Wow,” Hazel gasped when she reached us, breaking between a group of skeleton-dressed fair goers. “That was a mission, all right.”
“Sure was,” I agreed, reaching for her hand.
“This is pretty.” My knuckles grazed the fluffy knitted thing she wore, then slid down her arm to fold my hand around hers.
Cool fingers flexed, then she relaxed into my hold, taking a soft breath I suspected that she didn't want me to see.
“Did you have trouble finding a place to park?”
“Huh? Oh, no.” Hazel blushed furiously, her cheeks staining as dusk fell properly and the fairgrounds glowed harder. “I, um, I walked.”
Jordan snorted. “Okay, you all need to have a little talk about personal security and awareness.”
She looked between us as I squeezed her hand, lacing our fingers together. “But— It’s a small town, right? Everyone knows everyone?”
I nodded, letting my thumb rub across the back of her hand. “Yeah, honey. And everyone’s secrets are known and kept just fine. Didn't you ever watch true crime stories back home?”
Hazel glanced between us and took a discreet step backward. “So, I’ll just go get a, um—” She searched for a distraction, but I hauled her back between us.
With nearly a foot’s difference in height, she nearly disappeared, but I held on tight. “No chance, Teach. I promised you a tour and that ends with tonight’s pre-Halloween fair.” Seeing as I’m late on delivering.
Her nose wrinkled. “You have way too many decorations, I swear,” she muttered, but her hand didn’t slide out of mine.
I grinned. “No such thing. Besides, you came dressed for it. Right?” I waved at her cute as hell bat-themed tights. “You’re going to match Batty Bertha’s Lantern Labyrinth perfectly.”
“Batty Biffo’s whosy-whatsit?” Hazel repeated carefully, mangling nearly every single syllable.
Jordan straightened. “Hello, gorgeous.” He eyed Tansy as she crossed the field opposite us, headed for the coffee truck she owned that Hazel had sampled on her first fair in town. “Good luck,” he called back to us as he took off at a jog.
“Which one of us is he talking to?” Hazel asked as I turned us in the opposite direction.
“I’m not sure,” I said honestly, halting before a funnel cake stall. “Jordan’s big boy. He can look after himself, even after Tansy tells him where to go. Have you had these before?”
Hazel nibbled her lip. “Uh, is it safe?” she asked as the stall holder passed us two of the giant confections. “Oh, wow.” Her eyes grew big. “That’s so sweet.”
“So are you.” I tugged her into my side and wrapped my arm around her. “And you’re fluffy.”
“I mean, I didn’t want to get cold.” She stilled in my hold, then slowly leaned into my side as though testing our proximity and the treat at the same time. Silence held as she took a bite, then another. I led her along the lane of food booths and pasted the sideshow games. “This is noisy.”
“Yeah, it is a bit.” I steered her away from a shooting booth. “Sorry about that. So, no bobbing for apples?”
Hazel stopped to watch a few people dunk their faces in buckets for apples—the not so adept ones who wore more water than prizes, at least. “Uh, I’ll skip it?” She looked up at me hesitantly.
“We won’t do anything you’re uncomfortable with,” I reassured her.
“Okay, good.” Her shoulders dropped as I squeezed her gently. Her body pressed softly into me, tension slipping from her small, curry frame with every step.
I grinned and glanced over her head. “Except maybe the haunted house.”
Hazel tensed again. “Wait. Really? They do those?”
“Yeah, later though. We can do it last. Right before the lantern walk at the end of the night. That’s more pretty than scary to end the night with, okay?
I thought you’d like it.” I turned her back to press against my front and rested my chin on the top of her head, watching a parade of farm animals dressed up as monsters walk past.
“Oh, that’s cute,” Hazel giggled a second later as a pig trotted past wearing a skirt bearing misshapen tentacles. “And that one.” A goat with neon painted horns followed it.
“Yeah, he’s done a good job this year. Ah—” I closed my mouth and tried to turn her away.
“What is that?” Hazel stared. Her hand rested on my arm where I folded it around her waist, but she seemed not to notice.
A confection of pink pronked on over.
“That is a llama with googly eyes wearing a tutu.” I sighed and waved.
Hazel tipped her head to one side and I had the impression she closed one eye to check. “How do you know?”
“Because that’s my brother, and that’s his herd.”
“Hey, buddy.” My brother clapped me on the shoulder, his hand wrapped around the reins of four llamas all dressed in fluffy tutus and bearing googly eyed headbands that added at least an extra six inches to their ridiculously long necks. “How are you going? Ma’am,” he said politely to Hazel.
“Oh. Hi?” Hazel eyed the llama nervously and settled for petting one grumpy looking alpaca that had been groomed to within an inch of its life. It alone did not wear a costume.
“Hi, Duke.” I shook my brother’s hand and managed not to dislodge any of the leads he grappled with. “Who’ve you brought with you tonight?”
“Pixie, Masala, Hades, and Bumpkin,” he introduced the llamas. “And the alpaca is Dandelion. She didn’t want to wear a costume this year, did you sweetie? But you would have looked lovely in a fireman’s coat.”
The alpaca swallowed. I swore a bead of spit rolled all three feet of its neck from its stomach compartments to its mouth. Steeping backward and bringing Hazel with me before we wore the unhappy alpaca’s dinner in a one-sided spitting match, I nodded to my brother.
“Good luck. We won’t keep you. The parade is moving along.”
“Well, must keep going.” Duke nudged Pixie or Hades—I couldn't tell them apart—and his fluffy tutu-wearing clan stepped right along, grumpy alpaca in tow. “Come out and see me some time,” he called over his shoulder. “It’s nearly birthing season! The crias are always cute.”
“Are they?” Hazel stared after him. “Your brother is a llama farmer,” she whispered, somewhat awed.
“Yeah, he’s the sane one at the dinner table.” I started walking, not wanting to have that conversation just yet. “And birthing is messy,” I grimaced. “He’s roped me in with that ‘they’re cute’ story more than once. Don’t fall for it,” I warned her.
“Does he live—”
“Hay ride?” I interrupted her, turning us away from the crowd and into a quieter area.
A small group of people milled around several hay carts that were attached to horses.
Music played faintly from old speakers set up at the entrance to the corn fields in the neighboring block.
An entrance to the path was cut into the wall of tall corn heads.
“Sure?” The same note of doubt entered Hazel’s voice from before.
“Two please.” I handed cash to the tired looking ticket booth holder who offered me a wan smile and waved us through.
“Hi, Zack.” One of the hay cart drivers waved. “Are you back already?”
I shook my head in warning. “Just showing the new teacher around town.”
Eyebrows raised beneath a broad brimmed hat. “Ah. Teacher.” Eyes met mine. “Right. Uh, I think Caleb is just about ready to head on in.” He pointed to a cart listlessly circling a stack of hay with a pumpkin set on top. A small flame flickered inside it.