Tempting the Ringmaster (A Big Top Romance)

by Aleah Barley

  Belle leaned forward curiously. She vaguely remembered Keith showing up when she was a kid. He was eight years older than her, so she must have been ten at the time, only a year older than Petra was now and already performing every night.

  “I begged your father to give me a job.” Keith’s smile softened at the memory. “He told me I could clean up after the horses for the night. I had worked an entire month like that, one night after another before he told me I could stay on long term. It took me two years to learn how to be a clown—just another member of the company—and another two years to put together the beginning of my act. This job means everything to me… and you just left.”

  Hell, she shifted uncomfortably. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry, just don’t do it again. The police chief seems like a nice guy—he didn’t arrest me—don’t let it go to your head. You don’t belong here. We don’t belong here.” He let out a soft sigh. “It’s too cold anyway. I can’t wait to get back to Florida.”

  This was it, the moment she’d been waiting for. This was her opportunity to tell Keith everything she’d done after her father’s death. She hadn’t just sold her business in Chicago, she’d also sold the campground in Florida—the place where the circus always spent every winter—in order to pay Barnaby’s debts.

  It was the only option she’d had to keep the circus going, even it was only for a few more months.

  Her mouth opened and closed again. She swallowed hard. She could hear the music starting outside in the tent. It was time for the second act to start. The last thing Keith needed weighing on his mind was the knowledge that she’d sold their home.

  That was her problem now.

  She was the one who needed to come up with a solution.

  “Don’t worry,” she promised. “I’m not going anywhere.” She smoothed her long jacket and picked up her hat. “The show must go on.”

  It was cold outside, but the short trek back to the big top seemed surprisingly warm with Keith walking affably at her side. Belle made her apologies to the crew and bounced out into the ring. The crowd went wild. She grinned and soaked it in, everything was going to be okay. The second act went smoothly, finally ending with Petra taking off her oversized princess hat to reveal the missing dog perched delicately on her head. Roars of laughter filled the tent.

  After the show, performers and crew-members slapped Belle on the back to congratulate her on a good performance. Wandering back to her trailer, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d had so much fun.

  Once she got back to the trailer, she raced inside to ditch her costume in exchange for warm jeans and a clean t-shirt to wear to the after party—

  “Hi.” Graham Tyler was sitting at her table, waiting for her, alone. He grinned and a bolt of lust flared across her spine to bury itself deep in her belly.

  Damn, he was a good looking man. It wasn’t just his square jaw or his warm smile that made her salivate hungrily. The man had a presence about him. He had pure sex appeal.

  “I just wanted to apologize for earlier. I could have handled things better.”

  Her belly quivered.

  “You’re going to be in town for the next few weeks,” he said. “We’re going to have to figure out a way to see each other. There’s something going on between us.” He paused. “I don’t know, but I think we should see where it goes.”

  He had a point. The sparks between them were enough to burn the whole county down. “It’s not much of a one night stand if I’m still going to be around the next day.”

  “I was thinking about expanding our terms of engagement. How about a fling? Just until the circus leaves town.”

  It took every ounce of self-control that Belle had, not to throw something at him. Her teeth dug into her bottom lip. She swallowed, hard. “I won’t be treated like trash—ignored around your friends and family—if we’re going to do this, I want a real date someplace nice.”

  “Of course.”

  “No talking about me behind my back.” She put her hat down on the counter. “No bragging that you’ve been with a woman who’s double jointed.”

  “Are you double jointed?”

  “Want to see me put my legs behind my head?”

  “Yes, please,” his voice was rough with arousal. “I don’t kiss and tell, and I don’t treat women badly. You deserve better than that. This might just be a temporary relationship, but it’s still a relationship. I take that sort of thing seriously.” He stood up slowly, his broad shoulders filling the small space. “You are a strong, smart, sexy woman, and you deserve to be with a man who can appreciate every inch of you.”

  Oh, damn. Her entire body was quivering now, excitement building inside of her. She bounced up onto her tiptoes and kissed him with wild enthusiasm.

  His tongue teased her lips. His hand found her breast, crushing the sharp creases in her jacket. Her costume would be a mess in the morning, but for once Belle didn’t give a damn. She was too busy losing herself in the sensation of his body pressing against hers, the way they moved together like two parts of a whole. Fires exploded across her body. “Let’s move to my bedroom.”

  “No,” Graham’s voice broke with the effort to get the word out. “I was serious before. You deserve better than this. You’re going to be staying in town for a while, that means we can take the time to get to know each other.”

  His forehead was pressed against hers. Every blink sent air moving past her cheeks. The only way they could be closer was if he was actually inside of her, but he was turning her down, at least momentarily. He really was a gentleman.

  Damn it.

  Chapter Six

  For the next few days, Belle and Graham participated in a bizarre ritual, going out for burgers and malted milkshakes at the diner in front of legions of prying eyes.

  He showed her the local fall colors and stopped by the circus to help with Tiny.

  She accompanied him on a few more 9-1-1 calls, watching as he rescued kittens from trees and attempted—unsuccessfully—to track down the graffiti bandit.

  They went to the movie theater in Whispering Springs, twice, and at the end of each night he deposited her back at her trailer where they enjoyed a heady make out session.

  But no sex.

  Now, it was Wednesday and they were apple picking in Graham’s orchard with his sister-in-law—Kelly—and his nephew.

  Belle hadn’t known they’d be spending the day outside, and when Graham had seen her sweatshirt he’d insisted on loaning her a jacket that smelled like laundry detergent and masculine sweat. It wasn’t until she’d pulled it on that she’d discovered his name embroidered on the pocket and a high school mascot plastered across the back.

  It was official. They were dating, like something out of an old movie: Bye, Bye Birdy or Beach Blanket Bingo, anything with Annette Funnicello.

  It was like nothing Belle had ever experienced before. Even when she’d moved to Chicago looking for a normal life, she’d still worked in a tattoo parlor in the wrong part of town. The men she’d dated had been fast and wild, they would have pushed her up against the nearest flat surface and taken her ages ago.

  Her stomach churned as she plucked an apple from a nearby tree. “Why are we doing this again?”

  “It’s fun,” Graham said around a freshly picked apple. He took another bite, and the fruit’s hard flesh crunched under his strong teeth. He was only a few feet away, standing close enough that she could feel the tantalizing heat off of his body and smell his soap over the sweet scent of apples.

  Belle raised an eyebrow questioningly. “Are you sure?”

  “It really is fun,” Kelly said. The woman was bright eyed and bushy tailed. She’d shown up to pick apples in a pink dress with expertly applied makeup. Her winter coat matched her boots.

  Over achiever.

  Belle made a face in the other woman’s direction and tried to concentrate on the task at hand.

  “When I was a kid, I used to go apple picking with David�
��Trevor’s dad—” Kelly’s voice faltered slightly. “A whole bunch of us would go. We’d play in the leaves. Eat apples. Someone would build a bonfire. It was always a party.”

  “Uh huh.” That sounded great, but there were only four of them in the orchard. Four people did not make a party. Belle forced herself to take a deep breath. “You mind if I invite some other people to join us.”

  “The more the merrier,” Graham said.

  Kelly’s face pinched thoughtfully. “I already asked Theresa Hucky. She’s working tonight, and the Williams twins have swim practice—“

  “That’s not exactly who I had in mind.”

  Too much exposure between the circus folks and the townies was a bad idea, Belle knew that from long experience. She also knew that her people were going stir crazy cooped up at the fairgrounds. The kids had their lessons during the day, but even that wasn’t enough to keep them completely occupied. Everyone else was just trying to make the most out of the small parts of living, which meant that mostly they ended up playing too much poker and drinking too much booze after their chores were over.

  Apple picking was definitely a better alternative, even if it would bring them into contact with the Tyler clan.

  Belle pulled her phone from her pocket and skimmed through the contacts until she found the number she wanted. The phone dialed once, twice, three times before the other end was picked up. She explained the situation quickly: free apples and a possible bonfire.

  Ten minutes later the orchard was swarming with activity. Everyone had shown up, including the Jarvis family, Dorothy, Frank, Blue, and Irma. All nine of the children who were currently traveling with the circus had shown up. They laughed and smiled, climbing the trees with the confidence and ease of acrobats in training.

  Petra whispered something in Trevor’s ear and then they were all chasing each other through the orchard.

  An apple flew across the orchard.

  “Damn it,” Willow Gates swore, chasing after her younger brother. It was good to see the leggy teenager out and about. Willow was shy, usually she stuck close to the family trailer and helped train the trick dogs.

  Her brother Turtle mostly just got into trouble. At the moment, the four year old was attempting to throw apples like balls for the dogs that had trailed up from the fairground with them. His aim was off, and he kept hitting people.

  Willow disarmed the kid. “I’m sorry, Belle-Anne.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” Belle grinned, not missing a beat as she picked two apples and began to juggle them. Mikhail Jarvis gave her a nod of appreciation and tossed her a third apple, and a fourth, and a fifth.

  The crisp red balls formed a circle in the air, and she began to toss them back. The juggling wasn’t complicated, but it was fun. After a few minutes, Blue joined in. He juggled four apples at a time, his hands flying to form a figure eight.

  “Let me do that!” Petra shouted. “I want a turn.” Then all the kids were juggling—some better than others. At the wise old age of sixteen, Willow tried to pretend she was too old for their games, but when Trevor complained about being left out she started teaching her little brother the basics.

  “They’re good,” Graham said.

  “They’re circus kids.” Belle shrugged. “They better be.”

  “Shouldn’t they be in school?”

  “It’s five o’clock at night.” She grinned. “Everyone’s enrolled in distance learning programs, and there’s a circus school. We get a certified teacher in when we can—that’s Sarah Miller at the moment, she’s signed on through the end of the season—and if we’re hard up then the adults take turns teaching classes. They learn all the basics. Reading, writing, arithmetic, history, science, and juggling.” Her father had made sure of that. “The courses are all transferable—if someone drops out of the circus to go back to civilian life—there’s nothing like circus life to teach a kid discipline when it comes to getting a kid through college.”

  “College?”

  “Dorothy,” Belle raised a voice to call across the orchard. “All your kids went to Ivy League colleges, right?”

  “Sure.” The horse mistress didn’t look up from where she was sticking apples determinedly in a bag. The cold wind had turned the woman’s face red, but the harsh weather couldn’t keep the smile off her face. She was always happy to brag on her kids. “Tom’s a lawyer for the government. Richard is in medical school at UCLA. Harry got a job on Wall Street.”

  Success stories, every man jack of them; Belle’s brow furrowed. “What about Alex?”

  “He’s at Yale,” Dorothy’s voice turned hard. Clearly, something was up with her youngest. She turned away to concentrate on the fruit in front of her.

  Belle shrugged. She’d figure out what was going on with Alex later. For now, she was busy, juggling, smiling, and talking to the sexiest man she’d ever met.

  Her concentration slipped, and only years of sense memory saved her from getting beaned in the head with an apple.

  “We might move around a lot, but nobody lacks for opportunities,” she explained. “The kids perform when they can—everybody works around a circus—but education comes first.”

  “My girl’s a natural,” Mikhail offered. “She’s the star of the show.”

  Belle let the overstatement slide. All circus folk were given to hyperbole. “It’s a hard life as a kid…“

  So damn hard, she’d been desperate to get out, but there had been good times too, friendship, togetherness, the warmth and safety that came from knowing the entire circus was her extended family. She could remember bonfires and all-circus dinners, learning tricks at her father’s knee, building her act with Keith. The circus had been her world, and she’d loved it.

  “It’s hard, but it’s worth it.”

  After a while, they stopped juggling and went back to apple picking. Working together, the task went quickly, and with Graham never more than a few steps away, she always had someone to talk too. When Belle looked up, it was twilight and the trees were empty. Blue had built a careful bonfire, and the rest of the people from the circus had arrived carrying tables, chairs, and barbecues. The scent of burning meat and roasting apples filled the air creating an impromptu feast.

  Trevor and Petra were seated together, so close to the fire the flames reflected red on their cheeks. Big Jerry was talking to Kelly—from the clips of conversation that Belle could make out, he was trying to convince her to include more earth tones in her wardrobe—and when Graham’s arms wrapped around her waist, only a few people gave them dirty looks.

  It was something.

  She flushed, knowing that she should pull away. She had a reputation to maintain. The circus was only just starting to come together again; she couldn’t risk everything for a man who’d made it clear that he couldn’t wait to see her tires hit the road.

  Still, it felt good to be held.

  “Step right up, folks!” Petra leapt to her feet, calling out the familiar greeting, “Ladies and gentlemen, girls and boys, children of all ages! It’s time for the show.”

  The kids must have been working on their plan all afternoon, because a moment later two boys were on stage spinning plates on poles. All of the adults hurried to find seats on chairs or on the grass. Graham tugged Belle over to a fallen tree trunk and wrapped his arm around her, squeezing her tight in the darkness.

  There were a variety of acts including tumblers and a pint-sized human pyramid. Willow and Turtle Gates put a dog through its paces; the animal was a mastiff mix, large enough for Turtle to ride on, but he was light on his feet and when he obeyed the boy’s every gesture it brought a tear to even the most jaded eye. Petra and Trevor closed out the performance by juggling apples. When it was all over, they took a bow to the howl of the crowd.

  “More,” Petra shouted, always the ringleader. “More.” Her gaze searched the crowd until she found Belle. “Do Scamp!” She clapped her hands together excitedly. “Scamp!”

  “I can’t.” Belle frowned. W
ho had told Petra about Scamp? The girl wasn’t old enough to remember Belle’s old character, was she? “I haven’t performed in years. I don’t know if I remember how.”

  “A real performer never forgets,” Keith Aldridge said, the challenge clear in his voice.

  Hell, she forced herself to take a deep breath. When she’d come back to the circus, it had only been natural for her to take on the role of ringmaster. She’d never even considered bringing back Scamp, the character she’d spent so many years developing.

  “Come on,” Graham’s voice crackled across her skin. His hand covered her knee, and her mind short-circuited. Damn, he was a sexy man.

  “Scamp!” Petra clapped her hands. “Scamp!”

  “Scamp!” The entire company roared. “Scamp!”

  “I don’t even have any makeup,” Belle said.

  “We’ve got some,” Petra announced gleefully.

  Of course, they did, the kids must have snuck back to the fairgrounds to prepare for their show. They seemed to have a little bit of everything.

  “Go on,” Graham said. “It’s going to be great.”

  “Uh huh.” That’s what he said now. Once he saw her play Scamp, the odds of their ever ending up in bed together would drop like a stone. The tramp character was a clowning archetype, passed down through the ages, but it wasn’t exactly sexy.

  Graham leaned forward slightly, his eyes bright. Was he going to kiss her? Everyone was watching, she should be pulling away, but all she could do was hold her breath. His hand on her knee tightened. “I believe in you.”

  Fuck. Now she had to do it. Belle stood slowly. She straightened her borrowed jacket and walked across to the flat area by the bonfire.

  “What bit do you want to see? Just a little of this?” Her shoulders drooped, her chin stuck out petulantly as she took on the character’s injured posture. “Or, do you want to see the Prince and the Pauper?”