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T he county fair has been a staple in Bluebell for as long as I can remember. The fairgrounds are thirty minutes outside of town, and every year, they’re packed with locals, tourists, and enough fried food to give a cardiologist nightmares. I’ve been going since I was a kid.

My friends and I would scrape together our money for funnel cakes and caramel apples, then dare each other to go on the scariest rides.

Charlie loves adrenaline and would always suggest the most intense ride first, whereas Wren and Birdie made a sport of stalling her with pleas to start with the carousel or the bumper cars.

On the other hand, I was more than willing to go along with Charlie’s impulsive adventures if it meant delaying the inevitable Ferris wheel ride at the end of the night.

It’s not the height that scares me, but the idea of being stuck at the top with nothing but a flimsy metal bar between me and the ground.

Now, the Tilt-a-Whirl? I could ride it on a loop without breaking a sweat.

I’m here with Caleb and Jensen this year, so our time has been spent on kid rides and the game booths. I’m hanging out near the front entrance, waiting for them to return from their snack run, when I get a text from Charlie.

Backroads & Bad Decisions Group Chat

Charlie: I can’t believe you’re cheating on us, Briar.

Briar: It’s the county fair. Not an affair.

Charlie: Excuse you. Our friendship includes annual traditions and a sacred oath to ride the Zipper at least three times.

Wren: I’m queasy just thinking about it.

Charlie: Now I’m stuck with Birdie who won’t even do the bumper cars because she’s too busy stalking the animals.

Briar: Spending time with her can’t be that bad.

A video flashes across my screen of Birdie standing by the livestock barn on the far side of the fairgrounds.

Her lips are pressed into a worried pout as she watches a horse pace restlessly in a nearby corral.

The livestock auction is tomorrow, and we usually make a point of steering clear of the event to prevent Birdie from buying every animal in sight.

Charlie: We should be on rides, but thanks to you, I’m forced to follow Birdie around a smelly barn.

Briar: What happened to laying low?

Birdie: There’s a baby cow with a limp and a donkey with the saddest eyes. I can’t let them be auctioned off to the highest bidder.

Wren: This is why you’re supposed to avoid the livestock auction.

Charlie: Maybe I could have if Briar hadn’t abandoned us.

Briar: If you didn’t want me to go to the fair with someone else, maybe you shouldn’t have set me up with the lawyer, plotting for Jensen to show up and tell me he didn’t want us to see other people.

Charlie: How was I supposed to know the urban cowboy doesn’t know how to share?

Briar: Rookie mistake.

I set my phone aside when I glance up to see Caleb running toward me, clutching a stick of cotton candy bigger than his head. Wisps of sugar cling to his face, evidence that he’s already gotten in a few bites on his way over here.

I let out a low whistle. “Wow, that thing’s massive. You sure that’s cotton candy and not a pillow in disguise? Maybe you should share so you don’t get a stomachache,” I say playfully.

Caleb giggles and tears off a giant piece, holding it out for me.

He’s the sweetest little boy, and his thoughtful gesture melts my heart. I accept his offer and pop a bite into my mouth, letting the sugar dissolve on my tongue.

Caleb watches me with those big, eager eyes, waiting for my reaction.

“It’s so good,” I exclaim.

“Couldn’t wait another minute for your own treat?” My gaze drifts past Caleb to where Jensen is heading toward us, holding a deep-fried Oreo and funnel cake, one in each hand. Caleb must’ve sprinted ahead on their way back from the food stands .

“Caleb was kind enough to share a bite of his, and I couldn’t resist.”

He’s now on the bench beside me, busy demolishing his cotton candy, his face buried in it as the sugary strands stick to his lips.

I can’t resist stealing another glance at Jensen. He’s wearing Wranglers, a plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and a pair of cowboy boots that showed up on the doorstep this morning with a scribbled handwritten note.

Better start breaking these in now, pretty boy. We can’t have you bailing on your first day of hard labor. – Walker.

I’ll have to thank him, because Jensen in these boots—looking all rugged and giving off a cowboy-next-door-vibe—is dangerous to my control, which was already hanging by a thread.

Since our conversation on the porch, things between us have, unfortunately, been strictly G-rated—mostly time with Caleb and chatting outside for a few minutes before I crash for the night.

These days, I start my mornings diving into research and planning for my nonprofit. Taking care of Caleb has been the push I needed to take real steps toward launching it. Even if it’ll be a while before I have a dedicated space built, that doesn’t mean I can’t start making an impact now.

Jensen takes the spot next to me, passing over the deep-fried Oreo.

“Thank you. I’ve been waiting for this moment since last year’s fair.”

“You’re braver than me.” He laughs. “That thing should come with a warning label.”

“Says the guy about to scarf down a deep-fried cholesterol bomb.” I gesture toward his funnel cake topped with chocolate syrup, whipped cream, caramel, and powdered sugar.

“Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it,” he says with a grin .

I watch him warily as he pulls a piece of the funnel cake off with his fingers, my eyes widening when he lifts it to my mouth, cupping his other hand beneath to keep it from dripping on me.

“You want me to try it now?”

He arches a brow, his lip twitching with amusement. “Yeah, I do.”

I try not to overthink it as I lean in and take a bite. It’s warm and crispy around the edges. He was right. This thing is good.

My stomach flutters when I find his eyes fixed on my mouth.

“What is it? Do I have something on my face?”

His eyes twinkle under the county fair lights. “You do,” he says, moving closer. “Lucky me.”

He wipes the corner of my mouth, slow and deliberate, a sprinkle of powdered sugar and chocolate syrup on the tip of his finger when he pulls back. Without looking away, he slips his finger into his mouth like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“Delicious,” he drawls.

Nothing should be remotely sexy about sharing greasy food, but the way Jensen watches me like I’m next on the menu has me blushing.

“Hey, y’all. You kids having fun?” Mama Julie hollers.

She and Samuel are heading over from the pavilion, where the pie and jam contests are being set up. Judging starts tomorrow, and Julie refuses to leave her entries out of sight longer than necessary—there’s been sabotage before, and folks around here treat those contests like high-stakes poker.

“Yeah. Caleb went on the merry-go-round and the kiddie roller coaster.” Jensen glances at Caleb, smiling with pride.

He has taken a million photos to document every second of Caleb’s first fair.

“How about you?” I ask Mama Julie. “Everything set for the competitions tomorrow?”

“Your mother insisted on sealing the jar lids with wax and marked them with our initials, and left a pointed note by her pies warning against sticky fingers and sabotage,” Pops interjects with a smirk.

Julie folds her arms and sends him a warning glance. “You laugh now, but I’m not risking another fiasco like the Great Peach Debacle of ’02.”

Pops moves to her side, wrapping an arm around her waist. “You’re right. We wouldn’t want Missy Daniels getting another blue ribbon she didn’t earn. She’s never used a crust that didn’t come frozen.”

“Oh look, you can be sweet on occasion,” Mama Julie teases, kissing Pops on the cheek.

They both grew up in Bluebell and have been together since high school. Their lives haven’t been easy, but they’ve built a lasting love that’s weathered every storm and only grown stronger over the years.

“We’re going to head back to the ranch now,” Mama Julie says. “Our eggs in the incubator were starting to pip before we left, so come morning, we should have a new brood of fluffballs chirping their little hearts out.”

Yesterday, I took Caleb to check on the eggs, and he could barely contain his excitement when I mentioned that the chicks would hatch soon.

“How would you like to spend the night at the ranch house and be the first to check on them tomorrow?” Julie asks him.

Caleb nods enthusiastically, looking at Jensen for permission.

He runs a hand through his hair, and I can sense his hesitation. This would be the first time he’d be away from Caleb overnight, even if it’s just up the road.

“I guess that would be alright,” he finally answers. “But his pajamas and the dinosaur he sleeps with are at the cottage.”

Julie waves him off like that’s no big deal.

“We’ll stop by and grab them on the way home.

” She pulls a wet wipe from her purse, kneeling beside Caleb.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, and we’ll be on our way.

We don’t want to miss any of the action if any of the chicks decide to make an early entrance.

” He squirms but doesn’t complain while she cleans his face and hands, tossing the used wipe in the trash.

“Don’t forget to tell your dad and Briar goodbye. ”

He darts over, wrapping his arms around my neck, and I’m quick to return his embrace.

“Have fun, little man. We’ll see you in the morning,” I whisper in his ear.

Next, he gives his dad a big hug. Once he leans back, Jensen pushes Caleb’s hair from his face and kisses his forehead. “Love you, buddy. We’re only a phone call away, okay?”

Caleb nods before taking Julie’s outstretched hand.

Pops tips his hat. “See you in the morning.”

“Yeah, have fun, you two,” Julie adds, glancing between Jensen and me like she knows more than she lets on.

As they walk away, disappearing out of view, Jensen sighs. “Why does it feel like I’m watching my son leave for good?” he asks, his voice tinged with uncertainty. “I should be happy he’s coming out of his shell, but part of me can’t shake the worry about not being there if he needs me.”

I place my hand in his, intertwining our fingers. “Mama Julie and Pops will take good care of him, and we’ll only be five minutes away if something comes up later.”

Jensen lets out a long breath. “You’re right. He’ll be fine.” The reassurance seems more for his benefit than for mine.

He tightens his grip on my hand, and I don’t miss the sideways glances from those passing by.

With half of Bluebell here, it won’t take long for word to spread that, just days after Jensen interrupted my date at the diner, I’m here holding hands with him.

Let them talk. At least now, it’s not speculation.

“Should we head out too?” I ask .

As much as I’d like to stay, if he’d rather go back to the cottage to be available in case Caleb needs us, I understand.

Jensen hums, rubbing his chin. “If you’re game, we can stay a while longer. There are still plenty of rides we haven’t gone on yet.”

I smile. “What ride did you have in mind?”

“We should do the Ferris wheel. It’ll be dusk soon, and the view from the top will be incredible.”

My face blanches as I let out an awkward laugh. “Figures you’d pick the one ride I wish didn’t exist.”

“Are you afraid of heights?”

I shake my head. “I don’t like the idea of hanging, suspended in the air.”

“So, you must be afraid of the Zipper too?”

“Actually, no. That one’s fine because there’s a cage and I’m strapped in. On the Ferris wheel, you’re free-floating in a metal box, praying it doesn’t tip over.” I playfully swat Jensen on the arm when he stifles a chuckle. “I didn’t say it was rational.”

He tips his head as he studies me. “A ride in the sky with me might just surprise you. I’d make it worth every second.” His tone carries a double meaning that sparks my curiosity.

“That’s a bold claim. Hope you’re prepared to back it up.”

He smirks. “Give it a chance, sugar, and I’ll show you exactly what I mean.”

My heart flutters at the term of endearment. The thought of belonging to Jensen, even if it’s temporary, sends a rush of anticipation through me.

“Okay. Let’s go on the Ferris wheel, but I’ll be sorely disappointed if you don’t live up to your promise.”

He brings my hand to his mouth for a kiss. “You couldn’t stop me if you tried.”