Page 16 of Fairground (Whitewood Creek Farm #3)

“You’re coming,” she snaps, her tone leaving no wiggle room. And just like that, I shrink back, muttering under my breath as I shuffle to my bedroom to get ready. When she’s in that mood, it’s easier to just go with it.

Ten minutes later, we’re walking across the dark town square toward the only bar within stumbling distance of her house and the one place I know I shouldn’t be right now.

Should I lie and say I didn’t plan this outfit with Cash in mind? Pretend like this shimmery, off-the-shoulder, long-sleeved black top, paired with my tight leather pants, wasn’t meant to scream “ I didn’t try this hard for you ?”

Sure, I could. But let’s keep it real: I dressed like some hybrid of Sandy-from- Grease and Catwoman just in case Cash is working here tonight. Because if I am going to crash and burn in front of him again, openly gawk like the sex deprived woman that I am, then I’m at least doing it looking good.

Thankfully, Laken doesn’t seem to notice that my usual sweatpants-and-sweatshirt vibe is MIA tonight. Or if she does notice, she keeps those comments to herself in favor of getting drunk.

The second we step inside, the bar hits me with a wave of warmth, laughter, and way more people than I expected for a Tuesday night.

The place is packed with at least fifty more people here than the last time I visited.

There’s a live band playing on the stage in the corner, string lights twinkling overhead, and Halloween decorations everywhere.

The smell of beer, pumpkin and good food warms my senses and immediately puts me at ease.

“For a Tuesday?” I mutter, eyes scanning the room. But what else do people do in a small town besides drink and gossip on a random weeknight?

And then my eyes start looking for him. Because let’s be honest, of course they do.

“Aye!” Someone yells from off in the corner and holds up a beer causing the whole bar to go quiet.

“Oh my God, are they looking at us?” I whisper shout to Laken when I realize everyone has turned our direction.

And sure as shit, they are.

“It’s our possible mayor-to-be!” someone calls out, and for a split second, I brace myself for boos. Maybe a few thrown drinks. Hell, anything that indicates they don’t want me coming into his bar.

But then I realize it's Darren from the planning committee—the guy Cash told me to forward all those food vendor options to last night—and instead of kicking us out of my rivals' bar, the entire place erupts into cheers. People pound their glasses on the tabletops and stomp their feet like it’s the same celebration they gave Cash when he got nominated for the ballot. I even hear a whistle and a hoot.

A fucking hoot.

“What’s happening?” I hiss, leaning toward Laken, who just grins and waves like she’s running for office too.

“No clue. Small-town shit,” she replies with a shrug.

When the noise dies down, we dart toward an empty table near the back. A waitress—one I recognize from the last time Lydia, and I were here—comes over to take our orders.

“What can I get you two to drink tonight?” she asks with a warm smile.

“I’ll take one of the Whitewood Creek beers. Whatever you think is best,” I respond, figuring it’s best to stick with something I know Cash would approve of.

She jots it down, takes Laken’s order, and then pauses, doubling back to me.?

“Cash isn’t here tonight,” she says casually, like that’s information I was dying to know.

To the surprise of no one, I was.

“Oh… okay.” My voice is steady, but internally, I’m panicking.

Is it that obvious that I was scanning the room for him? I adjust my shirt, tugging it slightly higher, suddenly self-conscious by the amount of cleavage that I'm showing to this town full of people that I’m trying to impress.

“Just in case you were here to work on planning stuff with him,” she adds with a knowing nod.

“Oh, I wasn’t. My sister and I are hanging tonight,” I lie, plastering on a forced smile as she walks away with another nod.

The second she’s out of earshot, Laken kicks me under the table, hard enough to make me jump.

“Thank you for leaving me hanging there,” I hiss through gritted teeth.

She laughs. “You looked like you wanted to die when she mentioned Cash’s name.”

“I did not.”

She sips her water. “You most definitely did. Does his name really impact you that much? I mean, you’re totally blushing right now.”

I open my mouth to tell her no and to drop it, but suddenly our server is back at my side.

“Sorry, honey, did you say you wanted loaded cheese fries or just the regular?”

My stomach growls and though I know without a doubt that I want the loaded cheese fries I also know that the difference in calories and the time of night means I should stick with the regular fries.

“Regular is fine.”

She nods and scribbles that down on her pad. “You got it. By the way, isn’t he the best? Honestly, the nicest of the Marshalls, too, which makes working under him so much easier.”

My forced smile tightens, and I nod along, trying not to show that talking about Cash makes me uncomfortable while she blushes and heads off this time for good.

“Working under him? ” I whisper-shout at Laken.

She rolls her eyes, already amused. “You know what she meant.”

“No... I don’t think I do. Is Cash here right now? Hovering over the top of the bar like some sort of ghost?”

She snorts. “It’s a figure of speech.”

“She could have said working for him and I would have understood her point. She’s totally sleeping with Cash or has in the past.”

“And so, what if she is?” she raises a brow at my sudden interest.

Before I can spiral further into that conversation, another woman approaches the table while balancing our two beers.

Her piercing light blue eyes remind me of the sky in the summer, and her dark, auburn hair is pulled back into a high, bouncy ponytail.

She’s wearing a white tank top with the words Whitewood Creek Brewery and Restaurant stretched across the front and a big smile.

“Hi there! I have your drinks,” she chirps as she plops the two frosted glasses down on the table in front of us.

“Hi, Regan!” Laken hops up to hug her, and the name clicks almost instantly. Cash’s sister.

When they pull apart, Regan smiles warmly at me. “Hi, Rae. Sorry I haven’t had a chance to introduce myself to you yet. I’m Regan Marshall, Cash’s sister.”

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” I say with a polite smile.

She grins. “Likewise. Seems like you’re all Cash ever talks about when I run into him.”

That earns a reaction from Laken, whose eyebrows shoot to heights so high they almost disappear in her hair line.

“Yeah, I’m sure he just loves talking shit about his very unprepared running mate,” I joke, forcing a laugh.

Regan shakes her head, her smile easy and genuine. “On the contrary. He’s actually quite intimidated by you—not that he’d ever admit that, but I can see how much he admires your background working in politics. And for the record, Cash doesn’t talk shit about anyone.”

“So, he’s really just that happy all the time?” I ask, tilting my head skeptically.

She laughs, a light, melodic sound that matches her easy demeanor perfectly. “Annoying, isn’t it?”

“Very.”

She taps her finger against her chin then pulls out a chair at our table and sits down between us. “Did you know that he’s never had a bad day?”

I lean forward, eager to hear more about Cash and not caring if I seem overly interested anymore. Chalk it up to research for my opponents' weak spots if you will. “That’s not possible.”

She crosses her fingers over her heart. “I swear.”

“Come on... he’s never, I don’t know, failed a class or something?”

“Nope. He won the Cheerfulness Award three years in a row in elementary school.”

I laugh because I can just picture a little Cash with a smile too big for his face collecting that award.

“Ever got broken up by a girl?”

She snorts.

“What?” I ask.

“He doesn’t date. He’ll take women on dates, of course. Hell, the man loves to take care of a woman.”

I have no idea what that’s supposed to mean exactly, but my brain supplies plenty of images anyway—none of them helpful. Because the way she says take care of a woman sounds less like opening car doors and more like pressing her back into the mattress and making her forget her own name.

And just like that, I’m flushed and flustered, heart stuttering in my chest, because now I can’t stop imagining what that kind of care might feel like at his hands and how much I might like it.

“But he doesn’t date, date . You know?” she continues.

No. I don’t know.

In fact, I’m going to need her to be a lot more specific if I’m going to wipe the fantasies that I’ve been having about him out of my head.

“So, he’s never been in a relationship before?” Laken asks taking a long sip of her frothy beer. “I guess I’ve never seen him with a girlfriend around town so that makes sense.”

Regan nods. “I think he just... hooks up with them.” She does a whole body shiver as if the thought of her older brother having a sex life repulses her.

Meanwhile, I want to know more. Need to know more.

"But I don't think he's ever expressed a serious interest in anyone.

At least, not since I graduated from college and moved back home. "

Okay… so clearly not a relationship guy. But that’s not new information.

“And these women? They don’t ever talk shit about him around town? Try to ruin his reputation and make accusations?” I ask, half-expecting her to confirm that even someone as perfect as Cash has a skeleton or two in his closet.

Regan’s brows pinch together like the thought physically pains her.

“I don’t think that would be possible. I swear, everyone just loves him.

Me included. He’s a great brother but I don't think he hurts the women's feelings, if that's what you're asking. He’s very respectful and always upfront about his intentions.”

“Annoying,” I mutter to myself, then realize I’ve said it out loud. “Oops. That part was supposed to stay in my head.”

She laughs, her smile widening. “But he’s the most loyal guy you’ll ever meet. Really, Troy, Cash, Colt, and Lawson are all like that. It’s kind of my brother’s thing. They’re loyal to the people that they care about. Sometimes to a fault.”

“I see…”

And I do. Loyalty is everything to me, and the way she says it, I believe her.

Once you’re in with the Marshalls, they don’t let you go.

They protect you, look out for you, and somehow, it feels like Cash is already doing that for me now without telling me.

Easing me into the small town life. Introducing me to people who might help me get ahead.

Like he's treating me cautiously because of the obvious walls I have built up. Yet despite us being rivals, he’s got this way of making me feel… supported.

“Alright, well, I’ll leave you two to your date night,” Regan says with a playful smirk, glancing between Laken and me.

“I just wanted to introduce myself and say hi. By the way, Lydia and I volunteer with Molly at the Girls’ and Boys’ Club on Thursday afternoons if you’d ever like to join us.

We’re always looking for new Bigs to help out. ”

“Sure… who’s Molly?”

“Colt’s fiancée.”

“Oh…” The woman he is trying to impregnate. “Maybe,” I say, trying to keep my expression neutral.

She smiles warmly. “See you around, Rae.”

As soon as she walks away, Laken pounces on me, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “You so want to fuck Cash Marshall.”

I sip my beer slowly, pretending I didn’t hear her. “Absolutely not.”

“It’d be a disaster,” she adds.

“The worst idea.”

"Probably the hottest fuck of your life."

"Easily."

She taps a finger against her lips, looking entirely too thoughtful and playful. “But… you might be able to use this to your advantage.”

I arch a brow. “How?”

“Sleep with him. Distract him from the campaign.”

I grab a napkin, wad it up, and chuck it at her head. “No! I’m not doing that. You just got done hearing how nice of a guy he is. That would make me the villain.”

She laughs, unfazed. “You’re right. He’s definitely a love ‘em and leave ‘em type anyway. Even your unused pussy wouldn’t distract him from his mission.”

I gasp, choking on my beer. “Unused ? ”

She grins wickedly. “When was the last time you had sex with something other than one of your toys, Rae?”

“That would be with my ex… Brian,” I mumble. Back in Charlotte, way too long ago.

“Mhm. And you two broke up when exactly…?”

“A year ago.”

Her grin widens. “Well, Cash is seriously missing out, then.”