Page 22 of Mountain Beast

Silence reigns for a moment. The both of us quietly contemplate my proposal for a slightly altered arrangement.

“You should get back to Davie. She’s probably wondering what happened to you.”

So, we’re ignoring what I said. Unfortunate, but not surprising.

“Yeah, I should,” I say, rocking back on my heels. A cloud hovers over the moon and casts more shadows over the ranch. Darkness that matches the resignation in my tone. “Talk to you later?”

Briggs makes a sound of agreement before hanging up.

Stuffing the phone in my pocket, I stare up at the glittering sky. “What are you doing, Autumn?”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

BRIGGS

BRIGGS: Want to go to the county fair?

AUTUMN: What’s this? You’re willfully inviting me out to something that doesn’t involve us and a bed?

BRIGGS: Against my better judgment. You’re the one who wants to become friends. Besides, I’ve been contracted to haul off the trash at the end of the fair, so I want to scope out the place.

AUTUMN: So, we’re calling this a work trip? LOL Works for me.

The ticket booth stands at the eastside edge of the fair. A small wooden structure, it houses two employees who look like they’d rather be anywhere but here on a muggy Thursday night.

Once Autumn and I have our neon green wristbands for entry, we head through the open gate to wander down a wide lane of carnival booths and food trucks.

“Let’s grab a drink while the line is short.” She tugs my arm in the direction of a white trailer with the words ‘LEMONADE’ and ‘FUNNEL CAKES’ written in bold black above a sliding window.

Waving off her offer to pay, I slide my card across the scuffed metal counter as we wait for our two lemonades in the commemorative tumblers, because why the hell not?

“I wouldn’t have expected you to spring for the expensive cup. I would have been fine with the plain disposable kind.”

“When at the county fair, right?” I brush off the weird tickling at the back of my mind. Like this is a date, and I’m trying to impress Autumn with souvenirs.

Ridiculous.

“Besides,” I continue, “You get more in those large tumblers, and since we may be here a while, it’s fiscally responsible.”

“Fiscally responsible… Two words that have never been uttered at a county fair where prices are jacked up on every little thing.” Autumn laughs as we gather our drinks with a word of thanks to the teen working the register.

“When’s the last time you went to the county fair?” she asks, changing the subject. Despite the lower crowds for a weeknight, we still stick close together, random guests bumping into us occasionally.

“Last year. When they contracted me for the trash service.”

Autumn drops a hand to my bicep and squeezes. I ignore the bolt of electricity the touch elicits in favor of watching the Tilt-a-Whirl spinning to our right.

“Wait, so you’ve already done this before? Why do you need to ‘scope’ anything out if you’re already familiar with the set-up?”

Shit, why does she have to be so curious?

I can barely explain it myself why I wanted to hang out with Autumn outside our usual fuck fests, especially after our tense conversation about my trust issues when it comes to women.

Honestly, I should want to avoid Autumn; she’d pried too close to shit that didn’t concern her. Yet, instead of running away, I pulled her closer.

“I like to be thorough.” I shrug with forced nonchalance.

She hums beneath her breath but lets it go.