Chapter 4
DAHLIA
This is the second time in two days you’ve taken me out.
I’m not sure convincing me to call in sick today was smart, but I really didn’t want to work today anyway.
” The scent of fried sugar hits me the second we step out of the truck, the county fair entrance blazing so bright I have to squint. “Don’t you get tired of it?”
Cole’s hand presses into my lower back, steering me through the parking lot. “No.”
I tilt my head up at him, but he’s looking straight ahead. “That’s it? Just no?”
He looks down at me, unreadable except for the faintest pull at the corner of his mouth. “You asked a question. I answered it.”
A girl in a crop top stops mid-stride to stare at him when we reach the ticket booth.
My hand almost reaches for his arm before I catch myself, but Cole doesn’t even see her.
He just holds up two fingers at the ticket booth, and looks back at me and smiles.
Just me. The girl looks at me, her eyes lingering on my soft stomach, and shakes her head before walking away.
As if.
“Let’s go,” he says, holding up two long strings of tickets. “Rollercoaster, first.”
The rollercoaster drops and my stomach launches into my throat.
I grab Cole’s arm with both hands and scream until my ears ring, and he’s just sitting there like it’s nothing, but he’s always smiling when he looks at me.
The coaster whips us sideways and throws me into his shoulder, and when he glances down at me the corner of his mouth twitches.
“I’ve jumped out of helicopters,” he says when we stumble off the platform. “This is nothing like that. It’s fun, though.”
I shove his arm and he doesn’t budge, and a laugh rips out of me so big and unexpected it startles us both.
“You know,” I say, bumping my shoulder against his arm, “I almost didn’t come today.”
“I know.” He hands me a water bottle from his back pocket. “That’s why I didn’t give you a choice.”
“You literally said get dressed, call in sick to work, because we’re going out. Like you did yesterday.”
“I wasn’t going to let you have a hard day and mope over a man who wasn’t worth your time. I’m showing you there’s fun to be had, and Jason isn’t worth thinking about. He’s the past. This is now.”
He’s already walking toward the Scrambler before I can argue. And damn him, he’s right. I’m remembering what it is to smile and laugh. Cole is doing an excellent job of getting me out of my head.
The Gravitron pins us flat and I scream so loud the people next to us flinch. Cole’s shoulder shakes against mine, and when I twist my head his lips are clamped shut and his jaw is trembling.
“Are you laughing?”
“No.” He won’t look at me.
“You’re laughing.” I poke his arm and his chest convulses.
“I don’t laugh.”
“You’re literally laughing right now.” I’m grinning so wide my cheeks hurt.
He loses the fight, and his whole body shakes with it. I laugh so hard that the G-force feels like it’s going to crack me open. When we get off, my legs buckle, and his hand catches my elbow. I lean into him while my eyes stream.
“So?” He looks down at me, his hand still on my arm. “Was I wrong to drag you out here, or was I right?”
I wipe my eyes. “Yeah,” I say, still grinning. “I guess you were right.”
“Didn’t hear that.” He’s close enough that I can feel the warmth coming off his chest.
“I said you were right.” I swat his arm.
He catches my wrist just long enough for the heat of his fingers to burn into my skin before he lets go. “One more time.”
“Cole.”
He smiles, and my stomach drops straight through the ground.
The Ferris wheel line is packed. Someone bumps into me and I stumble backward into Cole’s chest, and he’s so warm against my back that my whole body locks onto it.
I should move forward, but instead, I stay, enjoying the heat and strength of him behind me.
I keep expecting him to step back, but he’s just silent and still.
He wraps his arms around me, and white-hot lust sizzles across my skin.
The seat pushes us together, his thigh flush against mine. The wheel lifts us until the midway noise falls away, and all I can hear is the creak of the gondola and my own pulse. His arm stretches along the back of the seat, and when I lean into him, neither of us says a word.
We stop at the top.
“Are you having fun too?” I ask, turning to look at him. “Or are you tolerating this for my benefit?”
He looks out at the lights for a second. Then he turns to me. “Fairs aren’t my thing.” His voice is low and unhurried. “But seeing you smile and laugh? That’s my thing. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to make you smile. Today and always.”
The wind pushes my hair across my face. I reach up to fix it, but his hand gets there first, his knuckles grazing my jaw as he tucks the strand behind my ear.
His thumb traces my cheekbone, slow, barely there, and everything below my waist clenches so hard that my breath comes out in gasps.
His face is right there, his mouth is right there, and if I lean forward two inches, I can finally find out what he tastes like.
“Thank you,” I whisper. “For everything.”
He drops his hand, and the loss of it aches. His thigh presses harder against mine as the wheel turns and brings us back to ground. I let my shoulder settle against his arm, feeling his breathing change. I don’t want to go back down.
In the crowd between rides, his hand stays on my lower back, guiding me through the crowds. The easy, automatic way he does it unlocks a deep yearning in me.
My mother’s voice, clear as Sunday morning: Marry a man who does that without being asked. It means he’s always thinking of you, even when surrounded by other people.
I lean into his hand instead of pulling away.
Cole hits every target at the shooting gallery. Every. Single. One.
The guy running the booth goes quiet when Cole sets the rifle down.
“Pick one,” he says, nodding at the top row.
I pick the biggest, most ridiculous stuffed bear on the wall. It’s white and enormous, roughly the size of a golden retriever. The guy unhooks it and frowns when he hands it over.
“You could’ve warned him,” I say, watching Cole take the bear one-handed and tuck it under his arm like it’s a football.
“Where’s the fun in that?”
“How many targets was that?”
“Twelve.” He steers me away from the booth with his free hand on my lower back, casual, like he didn’t just hoodwink the guy running the game.
“Out of?”
“Twelve.”
I look at the bear, then back at him. “Is there anything you’re bad at?”
He thinks about it. “Karaoke. I don’t sing. Not even in the shower.”
I laugh, and the sound still takes me by surprise.
I keep hearing it come out of me and thinking I’d forgotten what it’s like to laugh like this.
Like I’d forgotten how to laugh and didn’t realize it until Cole dragged me to axe throwing last night and a county fair today, and won me a bear the size of a Labrador.
We find a food stand, and I order a funnel cake loaded with powdered sugar, strawberries, whipped cream, the works. I take a bite so big that I have to close my eyes. Sugar on my lips, strawberry on my tongue, warm dough that I feel all the way down.
“God, I missed this,” I say, licking powdered sugar off my thumb.
Cole watches me—not the way Jason watched me eat, that quiet, calculating look that always ended with a comment about carbs or how my thighs didn’t need the help. Cole watches me like the sight of me enjoying food is the best thing he’s seen all day.
“My ex had opinions about what I ate,” I confess. “How much. How often. He thought my body needed managing.”
Cole goes still, and his jaw hardens. His hand curls into a fist on the table, slow enough to be almost unnoticeable.
“You’re gorgeous.” His voice is low, but it’s not shy. “He was a fucking idiot. And we shouldn’t waste time talking about him.”
The words make me speechless. Not because no one’s ever called me gorgeous, but because Cole says it like fact. Like he’s genuinely confused that anyone could look at me and reach a different conclusion.
My eyes sting. I blink hard and take another bite so I don’t have to speak.
“I’m serious,” he says, quieter. “Every part of you.”
I look up at him. His expression is steady and open. Two years with Jason, and I can’t remember him ever looking at me like this. Like my body wasn’t a project. Like I was perfect exactly as I am.
“Thank you,” I say, my voice rough.
He steals a strawberry off my plate and pops it in his mouth, like sharing food is something we’ve done for years. In a flash, I know I want to be with Cole. I want this adoration and respect and fun for as long as I live.
I’m falling hard for Cole.