“Thank you, thank you, thank you, Miss Quinn!” Sadie cried, celebrating the stuffed animal win so vibrantly that I couldn’t help but imagine what life would be like with Quinn here for good. So many victories, laughs, good times. So much happiness.
After naming the stuffed horse Daisy Two, I shoved her under my arm and we’ve been wandering the grounds since, looking for the next fun thing.
“Daddy,” Sadie says, her hand still in mine. “I want to ride the carousel again.”
“We just rode it, sugar. Don’t you wanna try a new ride? Or try a new game?” We stop in our tracks, dust hovering around us, people bustling everywhere, dirt and the smell of fry oil heavy in the air.
Quinn plops down on the bench near the ride. “We’ll wait here, Sadie, if you and Daisy Two wanna ride together.” Quinn cuts her shining eyes toward me, and my chest tightens just looking at her. I’m in such trouble. “Landry, my feet are killing me anyway. Why don’t we let her ride, and we’ll watch this one?”
I sink onto the bench next to her and pull her legs into my lap. Easing my fingers beneath the top of her boots, I start to knead her calves as Sadie wrestles with her tickets, ripping off enough for two riders. Once she’s ready, Sadie runs over and gets on, pointing back toward us as the attendant undoubtedly asks if she’s got a parent here with her.
Quinn waves at the attendant, and I read his mouth when he looks down at Sadie, and says,“Oh, okay, Mom says it’s okay. Get on up here, then.”
I nudge Quinn with my elbow as I watch the carousel get loaded with eager kids and worn-out parents, my hands still working on the warm, bare skin of her calves beneath the cover of her pink boots. “That attendant thinks you’re her mama.”
I glance down at Quinn, and find her watching Sadie on the carousel.
“I guess I could be. If you knocked me up when I was…” She scrunches her nose. “Never mind. There’s no way.”
I shake my head as shock reverberates in my chest. “You’re too young to be with me.”
She reaches into her boot and grabs my hand, weavingour fingers together as she tugs my hand out. Her green eyes sparkle under the glowing lights of the nearby hotdog stand, and I sit there, feeling my heart beat nearly out of my chest, watching a woman I’m head over heels in love with. Carnival music floats around us with the breeze, along with light laughter and the occasional squeal. The air smells of sweet hay and summer dust, and I know that now is the time.
To tell her how I feel, or at least try. The back of my throat grows tight, and my stomach feels uneasy, and I know it’s got nothing to do with the deep-fried cuisine earlier.
“I’m too young to be her mama, but I’m not too young to be with you, Landry Vaughn,” she says, her admission sounding like a whisper because of how loudly my ears are ringing.
I lean over and press my lips against hers, and kiss my wife publicly, tasting cotton candy and possibility. Her eyes glitter when she pulls back, touching the tips of her fingers to her bottom lip. Resting my forehead against hers, I take her face in my hands, and squeeze my eyes closed to calibrate for a moment.
“Hey,” she whispers softly. “Are you okay?”
I nod, just barely, and open my eyes. “It’s not fake anymore. This whole thing with us. It’s not fake. Not for Sadie, and not for me.”
The fair lights keep spinning, the ride nearby keeps turning, and Sadie’s laughter rings out into the night air from somewhere on the carousel. Electricity hums behind my ribs, through my veins, and echoes in my heart. Quinn licks her lips, her mouth parts, but she remains silent, her green eyes searching mine.
She steals a kiss from my lips and sinks her fingers into the back of my hair. “It’s not fake for me either, Landry. And I don’t… I don’t want to leave.”
My eyes burn. My chest swells. The back of my nose feels like flames. I nod my head, hearing what she’s saying, so goddamn glad to know that she wants me, and maybe wants us, too.
I don’t get to push further from there, because Sadie runs up, kicking up dust all around us as she gushes about how fun the ride was. “But Daisy Two is kind of a baby. She got scared up there,” she says, handing the oversized stuffed horse back to me.
We don’t get the chance to talk more at the fair, because Sadie tuckers out after her third trip on the carousel, one she rides with just Quinn. On the way home, Sadie sleeps with her head in Quinn's lap, but Quinn holds my hand over Sadie the entire drive. Her thumb strokes my hand the whole time, too, and it’s all I can think about until we’re back.
“You’re still up,” I say quietly, pushing the back door open to find Quinn editing on the porch. She closes her laptop and slides it over, patting the place next to her. Wearing leggings and her Lynyrd Skynyrd T-shirt, her hair down in loose waves, face free of makeup, she makes my heart race and my pulse skip.
I take a seat next to her and mentally stutter at the way she reactively curls into me, stroking her fingers over my chest. Quinn nuzzled against me feels natural, and she does it on her own, as if she, too, feels like in my arms is where she belongs.
I run my fingers beneath the hem of her T-shirt, against her soft, warm skin and taut, flat belly, and tug. “Tell me what your favorite Skynyrd song is.”
She laughs, tugging her knees against her chest with ashudder. I pull the blanket down off the back of the porch swing and drape it over her. I run my hands over her blanket-covered legs.
“‘Simple Man’, of course,” she says. “And I can’t believe you’d think I was one of those types of people to wear a band shirt and not know their music. Landry Michael Vaughn, how dare you,” she teases, her hand falling to my belly where she moves lazy, comforting circles. My dick stirs from the sheer proximity of it all.
“Name another,” I prod, because everyone knows “Simple Man”, and I also know she isn’t a poser. She’s one of the most genuine people I’ve met. Hell, she came to my ranch not knowin’ the difference between a chicken and a rooster and owned it. I know she’s the real deal.
She playfully swats my belly. “‘Free Bird’.”
I find my hand in her hair, stroking through her soft, honey locks. “I knew you knew ’em. I just like rilin’ you up a little,” I tease her as we sway in the patio swing. Cicadas buzz, and an angry cow moos. “How’d you know my middle name?”
