Page 2 of Stripped Down at the Fair (Sweetheart County Fair #2)

DUSTIN

T he Tilt-A-Whirl hadn’t malfunctioned. Two whole days, and it was plugging along just fine.

I’d been tempted to go back and break it again, just to have a reason to hang out near the beautiful artist’s booth.

Her picture of me might have been on the goofy side, but I’d glanced at some of the other caricatures fairgoers were carrying around.

She’d definitely drawn me more attractively than she drew anyone else.

She’d made my body less wimpy with well-defined muscles and a squared jaw.

Did that mean she was attracted to me? Was she drawing me as she saw me? I sure as hell hoped so.

“Dustin, we need you.”

The voice of my boss rang out, reminding me I was on the job. This guy was my boss on the construction crew where I normally worked. I’d volunteered to help out with the carnival for a change of scenery.

If I had to be honest, life in Sweetheart Bend had me pretty restless. Something was missing. I just wasn’t sure what, but I traced it back to my military days. I’d moved from place to place, never quite putting down roots anywhere, so I was uncomfortable with things being so…predictable.

“Yes, sir,” I said, standing up and turning to face him.

That was me—always jumping to attention. That also had to do with my military training. Old habits died hard.

“Tilt-a-Whirl’s acting up again,” he said.

My boss’s wife was on the city council, and that was exactly why he’d volunteered to help out here, and I’d jumped in to help him. To his credit, he’d done his fair share of the work, but he heavily relied on me for things he saw as beneath his pay grade.

“You fixed it the other day, didn’t you?” he asked.

I nodded. “Yup.”

I’d fixed it, alright. Worked on it for a couple of hours. Finally got it up and running again. The workers who’d been assigned to the task didn’t seem to know what they were doing, and that slowed me down considerably. Once they got out of my way, I finished the job in less than fifteen minutes.

“I’m on it,” I said, hoping my excitement didn’t show on my face.

This would give me a good reason to see the caricature artist again.

Those plump pink lips had stayed on my mind since the first time I saw her.

I pretended not to notice her, but I’d kept an eye on her while I worked.

When I found out she’d been drawing me all along, I was happier than I should’ve been.

I’d done everything I could to see her again, but our timing was off. Every time I breezed by her booth, she was gone. The one time I found her in her seat, she was deep in her work, drawing a young girl seated across from her.

But today, I was in luck. As I approached the Tilt-A-Whirl, I saw her sitting, staring down at her phone. Nobody was around, aside from the cupcake vendors to her right and someone selling vapes to her left.

I shifted my toolbelt and kept my gaze focused on the ride I’d be fixing. It was broken down, with a line of about twenty people jutting out from its entrance.

“I bet that guy can fix it,” someone called out as I approached.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the beautiful artist look up. Her hair was in a ponytail today—not pulled back in a bun like the first time I’d seen her. It looked like she’d curled it, which made it bounce as she turned in my direction.

“I’ll see what I can do,” I called out to the guy.

Now everyone in line was looking at me. How did I break the bad news to them?

“It might be a while,” I blurted. “Maybe go ride something else and come back.”

Or don’t. I wanted as few people around as possible. That might give me a reason to strike up a conversation with the caricaturist.

I was all too aware of her as I knelt to check out the very spot I’d fixed just two days ago.

Sure enough, the bolt had wiggled its way loose again.

I tightened it within an inch of its life, but that was only a temporary fix.

It would probably work its way out again. No, I needed to get to the root cause.

And that was how I ended up spending a good hour tooling around with the mechanics of the Tilt-A-Whirl. The beauty was nearby, which meant I was battling distraction every step of the way.

Finally, the repairs were done, and I stood, sliding the wrench back into its slot on my belt. That was when I turned and made direct eye contact with her for the first time since our initial meeting.

“Hi,” she said.

“Between customers again?”

I dropped my gaze to her easel. Part of me wanted her to have been drawing me the whole time I was working.

“It’s blank.” She lifted the oversized notepad as if she needed to prove that to me.

I couldn’t help but smile. “I thought you liked to practice between customers.”

I had to admit I was disappointed that she’d been staring down at her phone the whole time, not even paying attention to me. Okay, so I’d given the appearance of being so absorbed in my work that I’d forgotten she was over there, but I’d been all too aware.

I crossed the small distance between the Tilt-A-Whirl and where she sat. No sign of my boss in either direction, but I didn’t want to linger too long. Word would get out.

“You travel around with the fair?” I asked.

I really had no idea how this sort of thing worked. I’d gone straight from a military base to a cabin in the woods. The only interaction I got most days was with the others on my crew, and they weren’t exactly talkers.

“I was going to ask you the same thing,” she said. “No, I live a few hours away, and my cousin told me about this fair when I saw her last winter. She has a friend who lives here.”

That was a lot of information. None of it really answered the question, but I figured she’d get to it in time.

“I’ve been looking for a way to make money off my art. We don’t have anything like this in Springfield.”

That surprised me. “You don’t? I figured fairs like this went through every town.”

“I guess not.” She shrugged. “What about you?”

“I’m a local. Work on one of the construction crews. My boss had this opportunity to make a little extra money.”

Actually, it wasn’t extra money. I’d make the same working at one of our regular sites in town. But it was too complicated to explain why I needed a change of scenery.

She pointed to the Tilt-A-Whirl. “It looks like they might need your help full-time with that thing.”

I turned to look at it. One of the workers had gotten it fired up again, and a line was already forming.

“I think I got it fixed,” I said. “For now.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “So, you’re going for a ride on it?”

“Hell, no. I wouldn’t ride on any of these.”

“Well, that doesn’t give me much confidence.”

She was still seated in front of that easel, but there was a twinkle in her eye. She was definitely flirting with me, and that had my entire body standing at attention—especially one particular part.

“I wouldn’t want anyone I cared about to go on these portable rides,” I said. “All it takes is one missed screw, and the whole thing…”

I shuddered. No point in going any further. She knew exactly what I was saying.

After verifying my boss wasn’t nearby, I returned my attention to her. “Do you get a lunch break?”

She shrugged. “I don’t have a boss. I’m paying for this space. I’ve already broken even on that. I’m just hoping the weekend will bring the crowds.”

Yeah, I knew what she meant. Despite the line for the Tilt-A-Whirl, this place had been dead during its first three days. Not many people went to the fair on weekdays, I guessed.

“I only get thirty minutes for lunch,” I said. “There’s a kebab truck near the entrance. Best chicken you’ll ever put in your mouth.”

I held in a wince at my own words. I hung out on construction crews all day, so it wasn’t like it was unusual for me to have my mind in the gutter, but this went beyond that. I was actually having thoughts about her with something in her mouth that wasn’t chicken on a stick.

This time, I actually winced at the thought. That was a little much, even for me. It didn’t surprise me, though, considering I was long overdue for some action.

But this woman was far more than that. I wanted to get to know her. To spend time with her. To pull her into my arms and hold her all night while we slept. On a more primal level, I wanted to make her mine. To make sure no other man could claim her as his.

“Kebabs sound perfect,” she said. “I’m starving. Where do I meet you?”

“Just past the ring toss, there’s an alleyway. I’ll grab the food and see you over there in ten minutes.”

And then, without waiting for her response, I turned and started toward the food truck. I’d text my boss and let him know the Tilt-A-Whirl was fixed as soon as I was in line. I didn’t want to waste a second of my break that could be spent with my blue-eyed blonde beauty.