Just This Once (The Kings)

Under the velvety cloak of a starry summer night, the carnival unfolded like a fairy-tale dreamland. The air was saturated with the sweet scent of cotton candy, intertwining with the warm, buttery aroma of freshly popped popcorn and fried corn dogs. The distant laughter of children echoed through the air, punctuated by the joyful melodies of a carousel’s calliope.

The warm breeze carried the tang of the nearby lake, infusing the atmosphere with a hint of fresh water and exhilaration. Ahead, colorful lights adorned the simple booths and carnival rides, casting a soft glow on the faces of the townsfolk who reveled in the excitement of the carnival. The Ferris wheel, a majestic sentinel against the twilight sky, provided breathtaking views of the distant shoreline and the sparkling waters of Lake Michigan.

Gravel paths had been laid to guide people from the parking lot to where the games and rides were set up. With every step, the crunch beneath my feet created a rhythm that matched my heartbeat as I grew closer to the fervor of the people. Whip and I had agreed to meet just outside the west entrance. I checked the time, and a giddy thrill zipped through me.

After a few excruciating minutes, I recognized his familiar stride. His long legs ate up the distance between us as he made his way from the parking lot to the entrance. Tamping down a laugh, I pulled the Groucho glasses from my purse and slipped them on.

My stomach bunched. We’d had a few moments that felt off, and I had more than a few questions—namely, why was there a woman’s jacket hanging in his closet?—but I didn’t want to be that kind of girl. We’d agreed to be casual, and, for the most part, that was working for me. I wanted his actions to prove to me the kind of man he was, and I prayed it was enough.

As soon as Whip spotted me, his thick laughter cut through the air. I stifled a laugh when my nose twitched. The attached mustache tickled, but I set my face into a serious expression.

Whip casually sauntered toward me. “Excuse me, sir?”

I grinned beneath the ridiculous nose and mustache.

“Do you think you can help me? I’m looking for Emily Ward. She’s about yea tall”—Whip held his hand up to my height—“has blondish hair, eyes like the lake after a storm, and a rockin’ pair of tits.”

A laugh burst from me. I slowly removed the fake-nose glasses and gave him a cheesy smile.

Whip’s eyes bugged. “Holy shit. I had no idea.”

My body hummed, called to him. I wanted to melt into him and be swept away in the timeless magic of the carnival’s embrace, without having to worry about who might see us.

Instead, I let my laughter fade and slipped the glasses back into my purse. “Fancy meeting you here.”

He nodded. “Total coincidence. You hungry?”

I turned toward the entrance. “Starved.”

Together we melted with the crowd, funneling through the roped entryway and into the heart of the event. It was a time capsule of childhood nostalgia, where the rides seemed to have grown up right along with you—a little creaky but still chugging along through life.

“It’s funny how every carnival is always exactly the same,” Whip noted.

I turned to him. “I was just thinking the same thing.” My attention wandered to the chipped paint and rusted lettering of the nearby Tilt-A-Whirl. “I’m one thousand percent positive this carnival company is the same one that would do the carnival in the town I grew up in. The foundation had to pay them in cash.” I shook my head and laughed. “Probably the same workers too.”

Whip looked around us. “I wouldn’t doubt it.” He sucked in a deep breath. “Who would have thought the smell of funnel cake and engine oil would be so appealing.”

“Yes, funnel cake!” I grabbed his arm and dragged him toward the first food vendor I saw. My hand dropped from his biceps as soon as we got in line, and I itched to touch him again. Being this close, out in the open, felt forbidden and exciting.

He looked at me. “Looks like you pulled it off.”

I glanced around at the smiling faces. The circus calliope music played behind us as we waited to order. “Everyone loves a carnival. I was surprised by how much I really loved all the planning that went into the fundraisers. It makes sense, I guess. I love a good plan.”

We stepped forward, and he looked down at me. “What is your plan, Prim? What’s next for you?”

When Whip’s slate eyes bore into me like that, the world seemed to fade away. He had a way of making me feel seen. Chosen. The sick irony was that I’d been chosen by the one man I couldn’t have.noveldrama

His question held a silent weight, as if my brain was also asking, What’s next for us? With the way things were, I’d never be more than a secret. I knew it would be safer to not let whatever it was that was building inside me go too far. Things would get only messier if my feelings went uncontained. Instead of letting my tumbling feelings get the best of me, I stuffed them down and focused my attention on having a fun time.

“Well, school’s out.” I smiled. “Mrs. Kirk officially put in her resignation, so I would like to transition to a full-time teacher at Outtatowner Junior High.”

His eyes studied my face, and then he shrugged and looked forward. “You’ll get it.”

His vote of confidence infused me with pleasure, and I grinned. “I think so too.”

After we ordered—funnel cake for me and a corn dog for him—we continued weaving our way through the people. So many had gathered that I recognized only a handful of faces in the smiling crowd. Despite the number of strangers that surrounded us, something about Outtatowner always felt safe, welcoming. The town sign promised it was a place where strangers became friends, and that was exactly how it felt.

I breathed in a lungful of July air and sighed. “I really like it here.”

Whip looked around. “It’s a great place.” His pace slowed and he glanced at me. “I’m surprised you haven’t been here more often.”

I tossed my used paper boat into a nearby trash can and dusted off my fingers. “I visited my parents once or twice, but by the time Dad got the job as chief, I was already living in Virginia.”

Whip’s lips formed a line. “Did you like it down there?”

Apprehension coiled in my stomach. “Um.” I hated talking about that time in my life and the mistakes I had made. “It was okay at first.” We walked side by side, and he gave me space to continue. With my eyes trained in front of me, I searched for the guts to open up to him. “The guy I was dating had gotten a job down there—that’s how I ended up in Virginia in the first place. He’s a firefighter.”

“Ahh . . .” Humor danced in Whip’s eyes. “So that’s why you hate us.”

I laughed. “I don’t hate you, I just . . . know you.”

“Oh yeah? What do you know?” he asked.

“Just the type.” I waved my hand inarticulately in the air. “Adrenaline junkies. Always looking for the next exciting thing. Running into fires and saving cats from trees to get a kiss from the stay-at-home mom.”

His brows pinched down. “That is oddly specific.”

I lifted a shoulder. “Well, in my case, the next exciting thing wasn’t the stay-at-home mom, it was my best friend and co-teacher.”

He shook his head. “Ouch.”

“Yeah, that was very un-fun information to find out. After I caught them—in my car no less—I couldn’t even look at her, let alone teach in the same room and be everything our students needed.” The familiar pinch of failure to see the year through poked my ribs. “So I quit. I left at the end of the semester. Came here and took a pay cut and Mrs. Kirk’s maternity leave job just to finish the school year.”

“Well, it wasn’t because he was a firefighter.” The rasp in his voice rolled over me. “It was because he’s a fucking idiot.”

I preened, knowing that maybe Whip also thought Craig lost something when I left. I bumped my shoulder into his. “You know, I liked you better when you hated me.”

“Liar.” He laughed. “Besides, I never hated you. But maybe I hated the way you made me feel.”

Tingles spread through my chest. Light danced across his features as I stopped to face him. “How did I make you feel?”

His jaw ticced and my heart rate spiked. “Like I’d burn down my entire world just to have you.”

My brain fizzled and my blood buzzed. I pointed a finger toward his nose and grinned. “See. Reckless.”

With a laugh Whip grabbed my finger and pulled me closer to him. We stood on the outskirts of the carnival, surrounded by neighbors and strangers, as the world moved around us. Tension crackled between us. My attention bounced from his lips to his eyes. His tongue darted out to wet his lips.

A shove from behind sent me crashing into him. I turned to see Robbie Lambert with his hands in the air.

“Oh shit! I mean shoot. Sorry, Miss Ward.”

I gathered myself and smiled. “Hey, Robbie. It’s okay.” My eyes flicked from his new shoes to his face, and my heart sank. I narrowed in on a bruise coloring his high cheekbone with shades of deep purple seeping into a putrid greenish-yellow edge.

I reached my hand out but snatched it back when he retreated a few steps. “What happened to your face? Are you okay?”

His fingertips brushed along the bruise. “Oh yeah. It’s nothing. Just messing around. See you later, Miss Ward.”

“Bye . . . ,” I let out weakly as I watched him jog toward his friends and rejoin his group.

“You okay?” Whip asked.

I shook my head. “Fine, it’s just . . . did you believe him? About his bruise?”

Whip looked ahead to where Robbie and his friends had disappeared into the crowd. “Sure, why not?”

Something more sinister scratched at my brain. “I think his dad hits him.”

Whip frowned. “Do you have proof? Has he ever told you that?”

My lips pressed together. “No, it’s just a feeling. He’s had some bruises on his arms before but never on his face. That bruise looked fresh and painful.”

“You could always talk with Principal Cartwright.”

I shook my head and set my shoulders. “I’m a mandated reporter. As a teacher I am required by law to report any suspected abuse.”

He paused, his eyes slightly widening. “I just meant to get a second opinion. That’s all. A lot of those kids play tackle football on the beach. We used to catch a stray elbow every once in a while. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I think I’m just worried. There’s something about his dad that gives me a bad feeling.”

“Pokey Lambert is a hothead and a prick, but I don’t think he’s a child abuser.”

I chewed the inside of my lip as I searched the crowd for one last glance at Robbie. “Yeah, maybe you’re right.”

He was lost in the crowd, so I set aside the gnawing feeling. My mood lifted, and my eyes lit up when I spotted the fun house entrance ahead. “Come on, I want to show you something.”