A Fair to Remember

“That’s a little drastic.”

“I’m beginning to think it’s the only way.”

His smile faded. “Really?” She nodded, and he looked at the TV. “Well, now that would be—”

A loud knock at the door cut him off and Tara cursed the pizza even as her stomach growled. That would be what? Wes got up to pay the guy and then plopped the pizza box in the middle of the bed with a couple sodas he’d brought back from the vending machine in the laundry room. By then too much time had passed to ask him to finish his sentence, and he didn’t bring it up again as they ate.

Wes reached for his fourth piece. Having quit at two, Tara got off the bed and started for the door. “Sun’s coming back out. I’ll go get our clothes from the dryer.”

“Second one on the left,” he called after her.

A few minutes later, Tara stood in the bathroom in her jeans and bra, holding her still-damp leather top. Where’d she ever get such a stupid idea, anyway? “Sorry, Wes,” she murmured, slipping his shirt back on. Her black bra showed faintly through the material, but anything was better than wet leather.

She stepped back into the room to find Wes ready to go, a helmet in each hand. His gaze traveled over his shirt and the vest in her hand, but he didn’t say a word as he pocketed his room key and wallet.

“You want to drive?” she offered when they were outside.

His eyes lit until he glanced around at the puddles glistening in the sunlight. “Probably not a good idea with the wet roads. I don’t have much experience.”

Tara got on the bike, impressed that he’d admit it. His weight settled behind her as she strapped on her helmet. “Have you seen much of the town yet?”

“Just a little on the internet, and some when I drove through on the way here.”

“I’ll take the long way to my house and give you the local’s tour.”

She wound through the small-town streets of Redemption, showing him some of her favorite places while telling him all the benefits of the town. He’d mentioned relocating his business, so she made sure to highlight the longevity of Hutch’s Diner, established in 1927 by a descendant of an original settler and still going strong with its third generation owner. She pointed out the numerous small businesses that flourished with their unique offerings, showed him where she worked at Hansen’s Realty, told him how the town was growing because of their great school district, and called out greetings to people she knew to demonstrate the close-knit community.

Once she noticed the roads had dried for the most part, she offered for him to drive again and this time he accepted. His start was a little wobbly, and though he steadied the bike right away, Tara used the excuse to hang on to him closer than she actually needed to. Besides, she could continue the tour if she pressed against his back to speak into his ear.

At a stop sign on the way back to her house, she started listing the benefits of the local parks when she felt and heard Wes chuckle.

“What?”

“You don’t have to sell me, Tara. I picked Redemption, not the other way around. I did my homework, and I like what I see.”

“Am I that obvious?”

He laughed. “Clearly, you love the town.”

“I do.” She sighed. “And despite what I said earlier, I don’t think I could move away.”

“Good.”

He gave a little on the gas and the bike surged forward. Tara’s heart leapt into her throat, but not because of his driving. His first verbal indication of interest lifted her spirits. She felt so optimistic, she purposefully directed him so that he’d drive past her parents’ house on the way to hers, instead of the opposite way as she’d planned. She didn’t care if the whole neighborhood saw them now.

As luck would have it, her dad stood in the front yard, talking with a neighbor next to a fallen tree between their yards. Tara’s jaw dropped when she saw it appeared to have been split down the middle and half of it leaned over in a precarious position. After the initial shock, her swift appraisal assured her nothing was damaged besides the tree. She lifted her hand in greeting as Wes drove past slowly—though more to Mr. Streubel than her dad. Her dad’s resulting dark frown as his gaze followed them was hard to miss.

Wes turned his head and eased up on the gas. “You want to stop?”

He was a brave one, wasn’t he? She was smart enough not to poke the bear up close just yet. “No, keep going.”

Wes drove past the last couple houses, and she waved to the neighbor kids who rode by on their pedal bikes as Wes pulled into her driveway. Tara hopped off right away, hooking her helmet on the back. Wes removed his without getting off the bike.

“That was fun—thanks.” His smile seemed a little self-conscious, almost sheepish that he’d enjoyed himself.

“Anytime.”

She took his helmet, hung it on the handle bar, then took a deep, shaky breath and sidled up to him before he could swing his leg over the seat. His light blue eyes darkened considerably, meeting hers while she propped her hip on the gas tank in front of him.