Page 12 of Fairground (Whitewood Creek Farm #3)

“Excuse me,” Rae’s soft yet annoyed voice calls out over the crowded group that’s huddled beneath one of the large tents perched on the North Carolina State fairgrounds.

Even though the fair’s still a few weeks away, setting up the main event tents early has become a summer tradition—and a whole-town effort.

This time of year, the fairgrounds double as a venue for farmers’ markets and weddings, so getting the tents up early works for everyone.

Plus, since the fair committee’s meeting here today to finalize our theme and start decorating, the tents give us a little cover from the wind and the occasional autumn storm.

“Excuse me!” Rae’s voice cuts through the chatter, climbing a few octaves but no one pays her any mind.

The tent is alive with noise—people talking over each other, excitement bubbling about everything that’s coming up.

Halloween parties, the fair, the welcome parade that ushers in the main event—it’s all anyone can think or talk about in our small town.

And why wouldn’t they be excited? This is the biggest event of the year for Whitewood Creek and the largest source of revenue for most of the business owners here.

I steal a glance at her and take my time studying the soft curves of her body that I can see underneath my coat that she’s still wearing.

I’m guessing that my constant teasing about her usual all-black, witchy wardrobe got to her because for once, she’s switched her style up.

Dark blue jeans and a matching shirt—still moody, but a change from the usual black-on-black.

It makes me smile. Her chestnut brown hair falls loose around her shoulders, and she looks so damn cute trying to wrangle this loud, buzzing crowd that’s not paying her any mind.

I don’t know what it is about Rae, but I like her.

My brothers would probably say I’ve never met a woman I didn’t like—and maybe there’s some truth to that.

I’ve always appreciated a nice smile, pretty eyes, and a good personality.

But no one’s ever held my attention for more than a fleeting one-night stand or a passing glance.

Rae, though? She’s got me looking twice.

Hell, maybe three times. I never thought I had a “type,” but seeing her now, I realize I most definitely do.

Soft curves in all the right places—big, round tits, a heart-shaped ass, and thick thighs that could probably crush me if I asked nicely. The thought of her sitting on my face crosses my mind, and dammit, I think I’d like it too much for her to be my rival in this mayoral race.

I subtly shift where I’m standing, adjusting so I don’t embarrass myself in front of the entire town planning committee with an unplanned boner.

Rae lets out a frustrated sigh, her shoulders rising and falling, and something in me tightens.

I hate seeing her like this—defeated—when she’s usually the one throwing verbal daggers and holding the room in the palm of her hand.

I clap my hands, stepping forward.

I’d planned to let her run the show today, give her the spotlight she’s more than earned. But clearly, this town needs a reminder: we’re both in charge here. And more importantly, her voice deserves their respect.

“Listen up, y’all!” I shout, my voice cutting through the chaos.

The group instantly falls silent, and out of the corner of my eye, I catch Rae wincing at their response.

Probably annoyed it took a man stepping in to quiet the crowd, but she’ll see—I’m not like most guys.

I’ve got a little sister, Regan, who spent years whipping us boys into shape and showing us just how much more women know than us.

I know how valuable women are. Hell, I respect them. I admire them.

I fucking love women.

And for some reason I’m hell bent on showing that to Rae.

I wait a beat, giving her the chance to take the reins if she wants to now that they’ve quieted down. When she doesn’t, I step forward again. No point in making things seem awkward between us for the sake of her pride.

“Alright, here’s the deal. Rae and I have agreed on this year’s theme.

Since we’re working on a tight timeline, we’re proposing it now.

All we need to hear are objections—if there are none, then y’all need to break into your groups and start planning decorations.

Let’s act like we’ve done this before because we have.

For decades. You know what needs purchased, you know where things get hung and what draws a crowd.

Rae and I don’t need to hold your hands, but we do need to approve everything before it gets charged to the city budget so send us your final plans once you’re done. ”

A wave of murmurs spreads through the group as I nod at Rae to take over.

She’s biting down on the corner of her lip, probably wishing I’d just keep talking.

But when I give her a wide smile, she steps up, her voice clear and confident as she rattles off the details of the two designs that we came up with an hour earlier.

To be fair, the ideas were hers. I’m just along for the ride and whatever she needs. Colt, Regan and Lawson are the artistic ones of the family, but Troy and I are the doers. Come up with a plan and I'll execute the heck out of it.

I’m distracted today. Can’t help it—my head keeps circling back to this morning.

We lost four of our oldest hens. My most loyal girls.

They’d stopped laying a while back, just living out their retirement in peace like they deserved.

Still, it hit me harder than I expected.

I know it’s the natural order of things, part of the cycle, but damn if it didn’t pull at something in me.

It always does.

I remember when I first got them—tiny, fragile things that fit in the palm of my hand. That was nearly ten years ago now, which is wild to think about. They were my first batch that I was running solo on, when I was still trying to figure out who I was without all the noise.

Back then, I was chasing all the wrong things.

Late nights, good whiskey, women I had no business spending time with and used as nothing more than a distraction.

My priorities were as scattered as my sleep schedule.

I didn’t care about anything lasting. I definitely didn’t see myself here—still in town, raising birds, carefully collecting their eggs, and finding more peace in the early morning quiet than I ever did in a packed bar.

Now? I prefer the company of my hens. The structure of the work.

The way the days line up and make sense in a way people rarely do.

It’s a strange day, all around. One of those that makes you feel a little older than you were yesterday.

A little more aware of how time just keeps moving whether you’re ready or not.

I find myself zoning out, my eyes drifting across the room to take in our group until they land on Rae.

She’s standing at the front of the committee room, speaking with that clear, even voice of hers.

Confident. Poised. She seems like she was born to lead even if she doesn’t like people all that much.

I know politics. I’ve lived it enough to spot the real deal when I see it. And Rae? She’s authentic.

Lydia let it slip that she used to work in Charlotte, and I wasn’t above using that nugget during my own announcement speech when I threw my hat in the ring for mayor.

People listen when they know you’ve got experience behind you.

But I wonder if the town will look past everything that’s happened—the mess our last mayor left behind, the way trust feels like a currency in short supply these days.

Small towns don’t forget easily. But maybe, if they’re paying attention, they’ll see what I see which is a woman who knows her shit and will do right by this town.

A few people toss out questions about the decorations, and Rae handles them like a pro, proposing a vote to settle any objections.

I stay behind her, off to the side, letting her take the lead because I’m enjoying watching her.

Maybe I should glare menacingly or step in to snag some of the spotlight, but honestly?

I like this view of her. All soft curves, sharp wit, and a face so pretty it makes my chest ache. Even her chin is cute.

When have I ever noticed a woman’s chin before? Rae’s got me noticing and liking everything about her. Not even her grumpy mood and the way she scowls at me turns me off.

“Well, I guess that’s it,” Rae says, turning to me with a hint of panic in her eyes. It’s subtle, but I catch it. She’s not sure what to do next now that the group’s finished up.

I step forward, filling the gap. “Alright, folks, you’ve got your marching orders.

Go plan and come back to Rae and me tomorrow with the purchase orders you need us to approve.

Everything should be bought and on the fairgrounds by the end of this week.

If you’re on the food committee, we’ll regroup Wednesday to review vendors.

Keep an eye on your email for the time and place. ”

The group murmurs their agreement and slowly disperses, excitement buzzing in the air as they head off for their vehicles to drive home. Once the tent clears out, Rae lets out a long sigh and turns to me.

“Thank you.”

I grin. “For what?”

She rolls her eyes. “You know what.”

“They’re just getting used to you, that’s all.”

“I know,” she says, but there’s a trace of doubt in her voice.

“You seemed like a natural up there, taking control. The fair’s going to go well this year. I can already tell.”

She arches a brow, shooting me with a skeptical look. “What's with the niceness? Aren’t we supposed to be rivals? Enemies, even?”

I shrug, leaning casually against one of the tent poles. “Nothing says we have to be. Why can’t we be friends vying for the same position?”

“Because whoever loses isn’t going to want to be friends with the winner,” she says matter-of-factly.

“That’s not how I see it. I think we can support whoever wins. Plus, I've never met an enemy.”

Her eyes narrow as she studies me, like she’s trying to figure out what angle I’m playing. I stand a little taller, puffing out my chest just enough to show her that I’m solid—not just in size, but in character too.

“Are you… sticking out your chest?” she asks making a face.

I laugh. “Maybe. You like it?”

She smiles and I like the way she wears that on her face. Her eyes crinkle at the edges like it’s the first time she’s done it, and her pretty lips curve up at the edges revealing her straight teeth.

“Hey, you got any plans now?” I ask, leaning against the tent pole, keeping my tone casual.

“Um…” Her hesitation is clear, though I can’t get a read on why.

Usually, it’s easy enough to get a woman to say yes to whatever I’m suggesting.

I could say hey, let's drive to the next town and throw rocks in a stream, and most women would say sure! But that’s not what I’m doing here.

At least, I think it’s not. Sleeping with Rae would be a disaster—a fun, unforgettable disaster—but a disaster nonetheless, given our whole rivals-for-mayor situation and her clear aversion towards anything to do with me and this town.

That and I get the feeling sleeping with Rae might not be a one-time thing for me.

“Relax,” I say, forcing a smirk. “Not trying to take you home or anything. Considering our current status, that’d be highly inappropriate.”

“Oh.” She smiles, her cheeks tinting the faintest shade of pink, and I can’t help but wonder—was that what she was thinking too?

I lift a brow, because after I suggested meeting at the Marshall farmstead, she brushed it off a little too quickly.

Like maybe she’s avoiding being at my place on purpose.

Perhaps she doesn’t trust herself to be alone with me either?

That thought lingers. Maybe that’s why I bring it up again.

I want to see if she’ll say no a second time.

Maybe I just want to see what she’ll do.

“I need to help my brother with something at the family distillery. Thought maybe you’d want to come check it out? Get a behind-the-scenes look at what we’re doing on the Marshall property.”

She hesitates again, nibbling on her bottom lip, and I can see the gears turning in her head. “Um…”

“Look, we can talk about the food vendors while I work,” I add, trying not to sound too eager. “We need a plan anyway, and it’ll put us ahead before the food committee meeting in two days. Kill two birds with one stone.”

I can tell she’s weighing all the reasons she should say no. But eventually, she gives a small nod, still reluctant. “Okay. But I can’t stay out too late. My nephews are up by six for school, and I need sleep, or I’ll be useless tomorrow.”

I chuckle, tossing my head back. “Six? That’s sleeping in around here, but noted. I’ll try to have you home before curfew.”

She rolls her eyes, but it’s the playful kind. I know she likes to act like I annoy her, but I think I’m slowly starting to break down her carefully constructed walls.

“Let’s go,” I hold back the flap of the tent and we step outside into the evening air. The stars are already high in the sky and a breeze kicks up, gentle but sharp, carrying her scent right to me. Cherries.

My favorite.

I glance at her as we walk toward our vehicles. She’s hugging her arms to her chest, my jacket still wrapped tightly around her, eyes soft but focused, like she’s still trying to talk herself into this. Into me.

And I get it. I’m not exactly low-risk and without complications. Still, something about the way she walks beside me makes me feel like we might find our rhythm. Not the fake kind we’ve been pretending to have in front of everyone else, but something real in the quiet moments where we’re together.

I’m not sure where the night will take us. But for the first time all day, I’m not bracing for impact. I’m looking forward to it.

And damn if that isn’t a dangerous feeling.