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“I mean, anyone who says they don’t is either a liar or a bore.”
Chase set Jolene down and stood, extending his hand. “My thoughts exactly.” When I took it, he pulled me up to stand. “What’ll it be? Darts at the balloons? Rings on rubber ducks?”
“Dealer’s choice.” I scooped up my dog, enduring a tongue bath for the time it took me to go inside and put her in her crate. She squeaked and yelped as I walked away, and my heart broke.
“I hate leaving her like that,” I said when I reached his side.
“You can’t bring her with you?”
“She’s too little for a leash. I practically have to drag her behind me. No one is happy in this scenario.”
“I suppose not,” he said on a laugh as we headed into the crowd.
Mistakenly, I’d thought that once the sun went down, people would disperse to watch fireworks, but there seemed to be more people. So many that we were nearly separated—until Chase took my hand to lead me through.
His hand was warm and strong, a confident hand. A hand that held mine with a certainty that didn’t require permission, somehow managing not to feel like an invasion, which it technically was. But this hand was soft where Jake’s was rough and worn. This hand didn’t swallow mine, just held it chivalrously. Our skin didn’t spark, my mind wasn’t consumed by the contact. In fact, I’d only noted the differences because the gesture made me think of Jake.
I frowned, blinked. Unlinked us when we made our way through the thick of it. Felt eyes on me and looked over to find Kit and Mack staring at me with narrowed eyes from the cotton candy line.
Offering what I hoped was a reassuring smile, I shook my head and wiggled my hand subtly, attempting to dismiss their misunderstanding.
Pretty sure it didn’t work.
With a sigh, I followed Chase until we stood in the golden glowing alley of carnival games.
Chase studied them as if his decision would alter the course of the universe. He pointed a finger gun at the tin bullseyes.
“Fate has decided. There are the kangaroos. And they have pink, as suspected. Your favorite color.”
“Shooting guns to win my favor?” My brow arched, my smile tilting.
He leaned in, shifting his eyes. “Think it’ll work?”
“Doubtful, but don’t let it stop you from trying.”
With an easy laugh, he offered his arm. And when I took it, I glanced around, hoping no one saw me arm in arm with Chase.
“Embarrassed to be seen with me?” he teased.
“What? No. I mean …” I stammered. “You have to admit, it’s weird.”
“Only if you make it weird.”
I rolled my eyes. “You know what I mean. Our families have been after each other for more than a century. Every Patton and Brent has been bred to hate each other. You can’t pretend like it’s not strange for you and me to be strolling through a carnival together.”
“Unexpected, sure. But what does a hundred-and-twenty-five-year-old feud have to do with us? I’m not my father. He’s tried to put this grudge on me my whole life, but I don’t want it.”
“Then what do you want?”
He didn’t answer as we pulled up to the stall and handed the carnie a twenty. “Well,” he started, bringing the BB gun to his shoulder to look down the sight, “I’ll tell you what I didn’t want. I didn’t want to treat you like I did when we were kids.”
My brain jolted when he fired. The BB hit the tin with a satisfying ping.
“I didn’t want to go to Frank’s funeral. Not because I didn’t respect him—I did. But because I thought it was so disrespectful that we were there.” He pumped, lined it up, hit the red-and-white circle right in the eye. “And I didn’t want to try to dupe you into working with us like my dad wanted me to.”
Pump. Aim. Ping.
My breath caught. “You … what?”
“He wants me to help acquire you. Told me he’d put me in charge of our Maravillo farm when he leaves for Washington in a few months, if I could manage it.”
Pump. Aim. Ping.
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Because I thought you should know,” he said as he pumped air into the barrel and took aim again. Ping. “And the more I’m around you, the less inclined I am to help him.”
Ping.
“And what will he do when he finds out you told me?”
A laugh. “I’m not planning on telling him. Are you?”
I shook my head stupidly.
“I know you said you and me are never happening, and I know how much of that is to do with the fact that you can’t trust me. So here’s me being honest with you in the hopes you’ll reconsider. My father wants anything he can’t have. He wants to end the feud in the way my grandpa did and his father before him. But I don’t want to see you hurt. And I can offer inside information and protection against my father. Just think what a long way it’d go in mending the feud if we had something?”
