Southern Heat by Natasha Madison
Chapter 27
Quinn
“What does one expect at a county fair?” Willow asks me from the passenger side of the truck. For the past two weeks, we have been inseparable, and I haven’t been this calm in my whole life. It’s like she brings out the good person in me.
We wake up in the morning and watch the sun rise while we ride our horses. I haven’t told her yet, but Hope is her horse. Even if I didn’t want to give her Hope. Hope has chosen her. She refuses to let anyone near her, except Willow. We’ve taken the routine of going home and cooking together, something that she actually enjoys doing. Most of the time, we have to throw out the food, but the times that it does turn out, it’s really good. My favorite time of the day is when we sit on the swing outside after dinner. We don’t say a word to each other, but with my arm around her shoulders, we watch another day slip away from us. She sleeps under the covers when I check on her. She smiles more, she laughs all day long, and for just one second every single day, I close my eyes to listen to the sound of her talking or laughing.
“There are rides that we can go on,” I start to say. “Food, games, and sometimes even music.”
“Is everyone going to be there?” she asks, and I laugh. She’s been to two Sunday lunches, and each time, she’s come home exhausted from remembering everyone’s name.
“You will definitely see some familiar faces,” I say, turning into the parking lot and seeing that it’s already full. “But Grandma and Grandpa won’t be here.”
“Aww,” she says, looking over at me. “That’s too bad.” My grandparents love everyone. It’s in their nature, but to see Willow just open up to them is something I will never get used to. She probably doesn’t even realize she’s doing it. There is just something about my grandmother that leads everyone to tell her everything.
I park the truck and get out, walking around and seeing her get out of the truck. Ever since she said she would pay me for the clothes, she’s been wearing new stuff. Not every day, but at least once a week, she wears a new shirt or new jeans. Just like today, she’s wearing pink shorts for the first time ever. Showing off her tanned, toned legs has my cock feeling like it is being throttled, with a black and white striped tight shirt showing off how tiny she is. White Converse are on her feet, with her hair blowing loose in the wind.
“Ready?” I say, putting my hand on her back. We walk toward the noise, and once we get close, I look over to see her eyes light up. I see the Ferris wheel going around and hear people laughing close by. I look over and see a couple of kids running around with balloons in their hands.
“Oh my gosh,” she says and looks over at me. “It’s like in the books.” She turns in a circle as she takes in the rides. “Oh, you can win a stuffy.” Her face lights up then she frowns and looks at me. “You told me not to bring money.”
Already, I let her pay me back a hundred dollars a week for her clothes. There was no fucking way I was going to let her bring money here. “I already paid,” I say. “I bought tickets from Harlow.” I look at her and pull out the two hundred dollars’ worth of tickets I bought. “It was for her school.” She just looks at me. “It was for her graduating class.”
“Why do I feel like that is just an excuse?” She looks at me, and I’m saved when I hear someone call my name. I turn and look over to see Gabriel running toward us.
I squat down and grab him up in my arms, looking over at Ethan, who walks beside Emily with his daughter on her shoulders. “I smell food,” I say, kissing Gabriel’s cheek.
“He just inhaled a whole funnel cake,” Emily says as she smiles and goes to hug Willow. Ethan looks at her and nods. We spend a couple of minutes talking before Gabriel squirms out of my arms and asks to go play a game.
“Where do you want to go?” I ask, and she just shrugs.
“Let’s just walk around,” she says, so I walk beside her. Our hands are grazing each other as we walk. My pinky is holding hers longer and longer each time, until I just take the jump and slip my hand into hers. She looks down at our hands and then looks up at me and smiles. If we weren’t in the middle of a fucking zoo, I would ask her if I could kiss her. I would push her hair behind her ear and beg to taste her.
“Oh, look.” She points at a shooting game. “You think you can win?” she asks, and I just side-eye her. “Should I ask Chelsea when we see her?”
“Very funny,” I say, pulling her toward the game. Her laughter fills my soul as I zigzag through the people. “Okay,” I say when I get up to the wooden table. Seven barrels are all the way in the back, and there are targets all over the place. There are circles and squares and a couple of five-star sheets.
“What are we going for?” the man behind the wooden table asks.
“What are the choices?” Willow asks the man.
“We have the small one for one shot.” He points at the small stuffed animals that are in a bin. “The middle one, you have to get three shots.” He points at the regular one. “And the top.” He points at the big stuffed animals hanging on the wall. “That you have to get five star targets.”
“Let’s do the five,” I say, putting money down on the table. He smirks at me and brings me an old gun, putting pellets in there. “Good luck,” he says to me, and I want to wipe the smirk off his face as I turn to look at Willow.
“Which one did you want?” I ask her, and she points at a stuffed dog. I assumed she would go for the teddy bear.
I hold up the gun and aim at one of the stars, shooting it in the middle of the white paper. “You can’t shoot at the same star.”
I look over at him and find the second one I want next. I take the next shot and hit it right in the middle. I snap the third one without thinking twice and also the fourth one. The fifth, though, is a tough one. It’s between two other sheets. If I move just a touch, I’ll hit the circle. “Um, Quinn.” I hear Willow’s voice, and I turn to watch as she comes over. “It’s okay if you don’t win it. We still get the middle one.”
She smiles. I don’t care how many fucking times it takes; I will have to win her that fucking dog. I get back into the zone and take the last shot I have. It whizzes right into the middle of the star, and I hear Willow yell with glee.
I look over and see her with the biggest smile I’ve ever seen on her face. It radiates through her. She jumps up and down, clapping her hands. “Good shot,” the guy says, walking over to the dog and handing it over the wooden desk to her. “Here you go.”
“Oh my goodness,” she says, taking it in her hands, and I would have given everything I had to see that look in her eye. I put the gun down and turn toward her.
I smile at her, and she comes to stand in front of me with the dog in her arms. “You got me a dog.” She looks down at the dog and then up at me, her eyes glistening with tears, but not sad tears. These are happy tears. I know this because the smile on her face is so big it almost reaches her ears. “You got me a dog,” she says again, looking at the dog and then looking at me.
She inches closer until we’re standing almost chest to chest. “No one has ever gotten me anything,” she says, and all the noise in the background fades away from us. It’s like we are the only two people here. My hand comes up to her cheek. I hold her face in my hand, my thumb on her chin, and we both move at the same time. Both of us move toward each other, and here in the middle of the county fair, I finally get what I’ve wished for. She says my name, “Quinn,” right before my lips touch hers.
