Ash was swinging his leg off his bike when I pulled up and parked next to him. He took off his helmet and tousled his hair, smoothing it into place with his fingers, and I jabbed at him through my half-open window: “You actually think that’s gonna make it better? You can’t fix ugly, Ash.”
“Don’t be mad just ‘cause your date doesn’t like you,” he shot back—weak, but it still grated on my nerves. “I was watching you two at the bar. Shit, you might as well have been pulling teeth. Dunno how well this night’s gonna go for you.”
“A hell of a lot better than yours,” I said, rolling my window up and getting out of my car. “Hannah didn’t look too thrilled with you, either. Like she’d rather be serving anyone else a drink but you. How many times did she actually look at you last night—three? Four?”
“Hurtful, Reid,” Ash said, splaying one of his hands across his chest. “So hurtful. And here I was, just trying to look out for you. Coming at you from a place of concern.”
“You’re full of shit,” I told him, but I laughed. There was no use really getting into it, especially not here. Not when we all had more important things to do.
“I dunno what you two are so worried about,” Wyatt said, sliding between us on his way to the door. Little shit had parked and gotten the drop on us somehow while we were arguing. “Beth likes me just fine.”
Before he could make it to the stoop, I grabbed my little brother by the back of his hoodie and pulled, making him stumble back as both Ash and I surged ahead. I could feel his gaze burning into the back of my neck, almost sense his scowl.
I smirked. Good. Now he’s off his game.
Ash, with his giant gorilla shoulders, managed to muscle me out of the way and knock on the door first. Not a huge surprise, I supposed, but it soured my mood. Fuck him for being a bouncer, and fuck him for being a rude little shit.
He winked at me, and I rolled my eyes. “Whatever,” I muttered, and took an extra moment to perfect that badass look I sported so well.
When Hannah opened the door, she looked damn nice. She had her hair down in soft curls that framed her face and really made her burnt jade eyes stand out. She hadn’t put much makeup on—and who would, for a carnival?—and I was surprised to see how well that suited her. She looked much more approachable out of that whole nightlife setting.
She smirked at Ash, looked him over, and then leaned against the doorframe, folding her arms. “I take it from that cowlick you’ve got you brought your bike here?”
I snickered. Ash turned to me. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”
I put my hand over my chest in a mockery of the same gesture he’d made before. “I didn’t want to be hurtful.”
Hannah rolled her eyes—but as usual, she smiled—and swept her arm to invite us in. “Sarah and Beth should be ready in a minute. We had to do some shopping. And after we did some shopping, I had to convince them there was nothing wrong with the clothes they bought. So I’d appreciate it if you boys didn’t either act like a pack of lecherous wolves, or laugh at them if you think they’re still too modest. Got it?”
“Fair enough,” Ash said, entering first—he had to duck his head to get in. Moose-lookin’ motherfucker. I tried following him, but I hadn’t answered Hannah and she took exception to that. Her arm shot out, hand clutching the doorframe an inch from my nose, barring entry.
I stared at her. She said, “I’m serious, Reid. They’re vulnerable. Be nice. Understand?”
If any other woman in all the world had tried to get tough with me like that, I probably would’ve laughed right in her face, batted her arm away like it was marshmallow fluff, and never given her the time of day again. But there was a ferocity in Hannah’s eyes that rivaled even Wyatt’s when he was on the edge. I could tell, in those few seconds of silence between us, that she was dead serious. That whatever silent threat she was making was one she’d follow through on. That she had the capability and the motivation to protect her sisters, whatever the cost.
I could see, too, that it wouldn’t be the first time she’d made that kind of sacrifice. Raising my brows, I nodded to her and she lowered her arm to let me through. Damn. Now I was off my game, too. But at least it told me that Hannah wasn’t going to take any shit from Ash. She probably saw right through him. Which, once I got my groove back, would mean I had an advantage. Again.
“Nice job picking the scary one,” I whispered once we were in the small sitting room near the front door. “Really, I mean it. That’s a stellar sense of self-preservation you got there.”
But Ash wasn’t looking at me. He was watching Hannah close the door and walk down the hall, probably to where Beth and Sarah were. “She loves her sisters and wants to take care of them,” he murmured. “I get that.”
Wyatt shot me a look from the corner of his eye. I shrugged. I had no idea what was up with Ash tonight, but damn, he almost seemed to… respect her. The chick he’d made a bet with all of us about, the terms of which were that whoever fucked the woman of their choice first, wins.
I ran a hand through my hair uneasily. I couldn’t afford to think too much about it. Not if I wanted to keep my head in the game, anyway.
And I did so like to win…
A few silent seconds passed before I heard a door open, then shut again down the hall. Hannah returned with Sarah and Beth, who were wearing black dresses very similar in style to the ones they’d been wearing the night we met, only without their bonnets and aprons. They’d obviously let Hannah do their hair—Sarah’s was down and straight, and I could tell she’d had it trimmed a little. Whatever she’d done to it, it looked radiant against her alabaster skin, a touch of flame lighting up the darkness of her very conservative dress.
Then there was the makeup. There wasn’t much of it, but holy hell, it made a difference. Sarah’s already smooth skin was flawless like fresh butter, and Hannah had draped a soft, brown halo around each eye that drew my attention to them immediately. Sarah’s lips were just a little bit glossy too, pinker than I recalled, though if she kept chewing on that lower one they were going to turn more red. I imagined how they’d look after I kissed her. Swollen. Bruised. The color of raw passion…
“Well?” Hannah prompted. She was staring at me. Her eyes were hard.
I stood up, smiling even though she’d pulled me from my thoughts so hard the room spun. “Sarah. You look great.”
Sarah smiled, but faintly. She didn’t look entirely comfortable without the bonnet on. She kept tugging at her locks, threading her fingers between them nervously. “I’m… glad you think so,” she murmured.
And I did think so, which came as something of a surprise. I wasn’t totally into girls who dressed this damn modestly, but on Sarah, it worked. I was still dying to know what that lithe little body looked like under those heavy clothes, but that wonderment had become kind of fun. I was curious about her in a way I’d never been about a woman before—not since I could remember, anyway. I’d told Ash before that the chase was one of the best parts of getting a girl. That had proven especially true with Sarah, thus far.
I wasn’t one to normally pursue a virgin, either. I liked my women experienced. It made sex better for everyone involved. But the thought of getting to break Sarah in, of being the first to ever climb that insurmountable obstacle… that was fucking hot. It would be like thrusting a flag into the top of Mt. Everest, knowing I was the only one who’d ever seen that particular view. The more I looked at her, the more I wanted to pull that dress apart and show her soft, lovely body all the things it had been missing out on.
Sarah regarded me warily, almost as if she didn’t believe I was staring—as if she had no idea what I could possibly be so attracted to. The fact that she had no idea how beautiful she was struck me as a bonus. I wasn’t dealing with a chick with an ego here. And that meant it’d be so much easier to tear down her walls.
Before I could start thinking in-depth about what else of hers I might like to tear down, Beth peeked out from around the corner and
caught Wyatt’s attention. He was, to my surprise, a lot smoother than I was—or at least, more eager. Hannah didn’t have to prompt him to comment on Beth’s appearance. He went straight for the jugular.
“You look awesome,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets. I got the impression it was to keep himself from reaching out and touching her. She was dressed just the same as Sarah was, yet looked much more confident than her older sibling.
“I’d look better if Sarah hadn’t insisted on us wearing these…,” she said, scowling at Sarah. “How are we supposed to have any fun if we’re tripping over our skirts the entire time?”
“We’ll figure something out,” Ash assured her, eyeing Hannah from across the room. She was wearing a pair of low-slung skinny jeans and a sleeveless, white blouse with the Misfits logo printed on it, a far cry from the modest ensemble her sisters sported. “Let it never be said that the Brody Bunch can’t show their girls a good time—come rain, sleet, snow, or ankle-length hemlines.”
When Ash smirked, Hannah returned it. She narrowed her eyes just a little, as if silently admitting that was clever. The fact that she didn’t say it out loud gave me some hope that Ash hadn’t found a way to get the upper hand yet.
Speaking of which, I was eager to get us all onto territory that was more familiar to me. Someplace I could stand out and shine. Someplace that gave me all the tools I needed to convince Sarah of how slick and impressive I could be. It was time for me to take this competition seriously. I wasn’t about to let a stupid misstep throw me off my game and force me to forfeit the advantage I’d so easily cultivated.
“We should get going,” I said. Reaching out, I guided my hand to the spot between Sarah’s shoulder blades and ushered her toward the door. “You ever take a spin in a classic car before?”
Sarah shook her head meekly and refused to meet my gaze. “Riding with Hannah was my first car trip ever. What makes yours a classic?”
“Same things that make anything a classic,” I answered, lowering my hand to the small of her back. I heard a soft, yet sharp intake of breath whistle through her lips and grinned down at her. “Style, speed, and curves.”
With a self-deprecating laugh, Sarah tugged at her sleeves and said, “I don’t know anything about those things.”
My grin pulled wider. I couldn’t help it. She was playing right into my hands. “Then I’ll just have to teach you.”
I opened the door on her side and watched her slide in, face red, freckles peeking out past the blush. When I shut it, I glanced over the roof of my Shelby to see Wyatt and Beth hurrying toward his truck, talking and laughing all the way. I narrowed my eyes. I wouldn’t have thought of Wyatt as a contender before now, but he had this natural chemistry with Beth that made me wonder if he wasn’t the dark horse in this race.
Ash, on the other hand, wasn’t faring quite as well. He emerged from the apartment just as I was starting the engine and trying not to laugh when Sarah squealed at the unexpected sound. He walked to his bike alone as Hannah locked up and made her way to her car, a shitty red Toyota that had clearly seen better days and surely appealed to her more because of its price than its condition. I made a face at Ash as he passed and he offered only a shrug in return. Jesus, how was he striking out this bad? Was Hannah really that much more of a challenge than I’d thought?
Well, shit. Far be it for me to look a gift horse in the mouth. I slung my arm over the back of Sarah’s seat and pulled out of Hannah’s apartment complex, doing my best not to thread my fingers through Sarah’s strawberry-blonde hair and finally find out if it was as smooth and silken as I thought it was.
6
Sarah
I’d never heard the words “overstimulated” or “sensory overload” before, so when Beth, Reid, Hannah, Wyatt, Ash, and I walked from the unassuming gravel parking lot and into the fairgrounds proper, I found myself completely unable to articulate my state of distress.
I suppose it isn’t even accurate to call it distress. Not really. The truth is that I was in utter awe of my surroundings, and unfortunately, sometimes awe can be painful.
The neon lights that blinked and flared and buzzed up ahead of us dazzled me, made me stop short so I could stare, jaw-sagging, at all the myriad colors streaking through the night. There was a temperate wind that tousled my hair, one that brought with it a cornucopia of scents: churros, cotton candy, popcorn, hot dogs, and a hundred other delicacies I’d never experienced before. I could practically taste them on my lips, so sticky were these fragrances, and the lilt of carnival music rang in my ears as it slowly crescendoed the nearer we got.
There were other sounds, too, and sensations. The pull of the crowd and its weight. Laughter and shouting, the squealing of excited children. A buzz of energy I couldn’t quite place. The heat of Reid’s body, so close to mine, much closer than any man’s had been before. Even Father’s hugs felt less intimate than this, and Reid and I weren’t even touching. His presence was enough to overwhelm me, and when combined with all the other sights and sounds vying for my attention, it made me feel like the walls were closing in.
Dizzied, I reached out and latched onto his arm, my fingers finding purchase on his leather jacket. It wasn’t smooth and buttery like the seats of his car. Rather, it was coarse, like the jacket was well-worn and well-loved in the same way mementos from my childhood were. I wondered if it had special significance for him, and when I looked up into his face, I realized I’d been staring and worrying the material between my fingers for too long.
“Sorry,” I murmured, and moved to pull away. But Reid stayed my hand, placing his own overtop my knuckles. His fingers were just as coarse as the leather of his jacket, but much warmer. Soothing, in some strange way. I didn’t quite understand it—my feelings on Reid seemed so at odds with each other. Part of me wanted to exercise caution, even admonished me on the dangers of English men and what he might expect of me. He was a man with a reputation, after all—Hannah had made that much clear as Beth and I dressed for our evening out. She’d told me to “take no shit”, and that was a direct quote. But I wasn’t used to standing up to men like she was, even less so in the context of courtship. If that’s what this was.
Another part of me, one whose voice I did my best to quell, encouraged me to latch harder onto Reid’s arm. To slip my fingers through his and let him lead me wherever he dared. His eyes, caressed by the neon, seemed to glow, making him seem otherworldly—though not angelic. Not a demon, either. I wasn’t sure there was a name for such a creature as Reid Brody, and though that should have frightened me, it only made me want to know more.
I tried to ground myself by once again pondering his beard. Hannah had reassured me, time and time again, that English men wore beards whenever they pleased and it was not a sign of marriage. Still, old perceptions die hard, and every time I looked at Reid I was taken aback by the sight of it. It made me feel, perhaps unfairly, that he was hiding something. And made me think about how it would feel rubbing against my cheek. Or my lips.
Embarrassed, I blinked the thought away. Two days in the English world, and already I was having sinful thoughts. But what Amish girl didn’t grow up wondering what the touch of her husband might feel like? It was a silly correlation to make out here, but I couldn’t blame myself too harshly when it was all I’d ever known. I just hoped I could say the same for Reid. I desperately wanted him to approve of me. To think I wasn’t entirely weird.
I wanted to belong. Not in this world, but… with him. I wished I had my bonnet to hide behind when he quirked an eyebrow at me like I’d been off in my own little world and had forgotten all about where we were and what we were doing. Which was exactly what had happened.
I looked around. Hannah, Ash, Beth, and Wyatt had all gone on ahead to the ticket counter, leaving me and Reid standing in the center of the entryway, the crowd parting around us like the Red Sea. I opened my mouth to say something, anything that would justify having got so lost in thought, but nothing intelligent emerged. I was
sure he’d laugh at me.
But Reid just smiled. “You okay?” he asked me.
I nodded, but I could feel how wide and unconvincing my eyes were. “Yes. It’s just… a lot to take in.”
Reid looked—for the first time, really looked—up at the lights and the speakers blaring that sickeningly upbeat music. “I guess it would be, if you’ve never been. Shit, I remember comin’ here when I was a kid. It was awesome, but…” He fidgeted a little. “I’d always end up wanting to go home early. It was just too much all at once, and I could only stand it for so long. You know?”
I nodded, following his gaze. “I know.” That was exactly how I felt now.
Reid said, “You can hold onto me if you want, Sarah. I’ll keep you grounded.” The smile that thinned his lips made my heart pound. “You don’t have to worry about anything else but sticking close to me. Cool?”
He still hadn’t let go of my hand. His touch was slowly burning me, like an ember returning to life, beginning to flame. I swallowed hard when he maneuvered my arm through his like a proper escort might, but I did not fight him. How could I, when this was exactly what I wanted, right or wrong?
“Th-thanks,” I stammered, looking away from Reid finally. I had to, or I’d spend the whole night trying to figure him out, trying to understand why I simultaneously felt so safe, and yet so terrified, in the presence of a veritable stranger.
I clung to Reid as he purchased our tickets at the counter. Beth gave me a quick, sideways look meant to convey concern for me. When I smiled at her weakly, she turned to Hannah and muttered something I could tell was in our mother tongue. Hannah had been talking with Ash, her voice low and a sly smile on her face, but when Beth spoke she straightened and turned her attention to me.
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