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“What?”

“The Spinx,” he repeated slowly. “Egypt. That whole argument about the touristy sights that are worth seeing?”

“Sorry.” I shrugged as I unbuckled my seatbelt. “I was too busy learning about every minute of Maggie’s pregnancy from when they first found out to the start of the second trimester.”

He let out a long-suffering sigh. “Well, I guess you’ll just have to see for yourself some time.”

I arched an eyebrow at him. “You want me to see the Sphinx for myself some time, but it’s in Egypt, where I don’t live?”

“Yeah,” he said, finally opening his door and climbing out like suggesting international travel wasn’t a massively big deal. As I climbed out too, he came around to my side of the car and shrugged. “We go there every so often to see my brother and his wife, or my other brother and his wife.”

“Right,” I said slowly, my head shaking when I suddenly remembered that Colin and Deja, who I’d met at dinner on our wedding night, also split their time between here and Africa. “You guys are just regular jetsetters, aren’t you?”

He frowned. “Not really.”

Sliding his hands into his pockets, he turned toward the carnival, a sprawling, massive sea of flashing colored lights and people. “Since we’ve been left to our own devices, is there anything in particular you’d like to do or should we just walk?”

“Let’s walk,” I said immediately. “I haven’t been to one of these in so, so long. I can’t wait to see if it’s the same.”

“Nothing is ever the same,” he muttered.

I nudged him with my elbow as we started forward. “Hey, there’s no being grumpy or pessimistic at a festival, husband. There’s only cheer.”

“And burnt sugar,” he said.

I smiled, inhaling the glorious scent on every breath I took. While I was rather partial to it, Holden didn’t seem to be, but even so, he stopped complaining for the next hour or so. We just wandered around the grounds, sampling little bites of food and walking so close together that our arms occasionally brushed.

Around sunset, the sky turned a deep shade of purple and we finally regrouped with the rest of the Thayer clan near the center of the fairgrounds. Cameron seemed furious as we approached, engaged in a full-on, foot-stomping tantrum.

“I want to go in. I’m big enough!”

He stood at the entrance to the primary attraction, this year’s haunted house. Aptly named the Slaughterhouse, it was a massive, elaborate structure constructed from old shipping containers. Heavy-metal music blasted from hidden speakers, and around it, actors were revving chainsaws trying to set the mood.

Jane stood in front of her son with her hands on her hips, her gaze tracking across the fake-blood-splattered facade. “No, Cam. You’re definitely not old enough. If we let you go in there, you won’t sleep for a week.”

“I wouldn’t sleep for a week,” Alex muttered at her side, then lifted his hands in surrender when she rolled her eyes at him. “Hey, I’m just being honest. That looks terrifying.”

And therein lies the problem.

None of the adults actually seemed to want to go in themselves. Alex, Jane, Ryan, Maggie, Colin, Deja, and Wyatt were all standing in a protective semi-circle around the kids, every last one of them muttering an excuse about why it was a bad idea.

I looked at Holden, and when I noticed his broad shoulders were completely rigid, I realized he didn’t want to go in either. A spark of mischief flared up in my chest and I stepped forward, flashing a smile at Jane.

“You know what?” I said casually. “Holden and I will go in and check it out for you, Cam. That way, we can let you know if it’s too intense and no one will have to have any sleepless nights.”

Holden’s head snapped toward me so fast, I was fairly certain I’d heard something pop. Those blue eyes widened, his jaw clenching as he leveled me with a glare that told me exactly what he thought about this plan. I smiled sweetly back at him, pretending not to notice how much he hated me right now.

“That’s an excellent idea,” Alex agreed almost instantly, pushing us toward the line. “Have fun, kids. We’ll meet at the playground.”

Without waiting to see if we’d actually follow through, he rallied the troops and led the rest of the family toward a set of swings not far away. Holden’s lips hardened into a tight line as he turned toward the dark curtains covering the entrance.

“Remind me again why we’re doing this?”

I grabbed his arm and started pulling him toward the ticket booth. Since there wasn’t much of a line to speak of, we were on our way up the wooden ramp toward the entrance in no time.

“We’re checking it out for Cam,” I said. “What’s the matter, Thayer? Are you scared?”

“No.” He scoffed. “I’m a grown man. I’m not scared of underpaid teenagers wearing liquid latex and spirit gum. Why would you even ask me that?”