Page 96 of Paper Horses

“Now you’re being bratty.”

I placed my hand over hers, stopping her from tugging at the tie on her jacket. It was too expensive. Long wasted, gray wool that came to her mid-thigh and had two buttons and a fancy sash around the waist. It didn’t fit in here. It belonged in the city where high fashion ruled because it looked like she’d just worn it at a runway show. But it was all Olivia, and paired with the jeans and boots, it worked on her. Compromise. That’s what she was doing, but she was nervous about tonight, and I needed her to relax.

“You look fantastic, and no one here is going to judge you. And it’s not like you haven’t met any of them.”

“This is different.”

“Why? Because there are candy apples and hayrides?”

“That’s a Ferris wheel,” she said, pointing across from us.

“Yeah, so what? Doesn’t mean those people will stop what they’re doing and point at you while they yell city girl.”

Pursed lips told me my joke hadn’t thrilled her. I tipped her chin and gave her a smile. “You are Olivia Icinda. Billionaire bitch from New York City. The smartest woman I know and the most beautiful one. Now, put your resting bitch face on and let me proudly parade you around the festival. I’m going to stuff you with popcorn, funnel cake—no, never mind on the funnel cake, I remember what happened the last time we had that—candy apples and beer. And to finish the night off, I’m going to win my date some oversized, gaudy stuffed animal that I’ll have to heft around with me the rest of the night.”

She lost her fight to keep her grin contained, and it spread, lighting her features. It struck me that she was standing there with me, loving me, breathing the same air as me. A desperate need to gather her in my arms and freeze this moment overcame me, and I stepped back, clearing my throat.

“Are you okay?” she asked, her smile faltering.

I rubbed my face. “Yeah, just…” I don’t want you to leave, but I know you will, and it will kill me this time. “…thinking how beautiful you are.”

She studied me. Likely she could see into my thoughts and read the frantic impulses that were spreading through me. I wasn’t so sure the same weren’t hammering her, but she hid it well. I dropped my eyes and took her hand.

“Hudson.” My sight leaped back to her. “Live in the moment, right?”

She’d turned my words back on me. I was breaking my own rule, thinking of the future and not doing what I’d made her promise she would do.

My fingers threaded around her neck, and I drew her to me. “Right. And in this moment, you’re not fooling with your coat. You’re going to confidently walk into a small-town festival and act like you own the town.”

“I could, you know.”

“What?”

“Buy the town.”

With a shake of my head, I gave her a quick kiss, not risking any more than that, or I’d be back at my truck feasting on her with no thoughts of the festival.

“That’s my girl,” I mumbled, scraping my teeth over her bottom lip. “Ready to go show this town what a real city girl looks like?”

Her laugh rushed from her, and I savored it, filing it with the other memories I suspected I would cling to when the weekend ended. It was Friday night. That left two more days to soak her in and two more days to prepare for the second hardest moment in my life.

“I’ve never been to a festival,” she admitted as we walked toward the entrance.

“Never?”

Music was coming from ahead of us, families filing in. Booths with vendors lined the entranceway. The games and rides were further in, a hayride and a makeshift haunted house set up at the back of the field that was just beyond the center of town.

I waved to people as we walked by, seeing the knowing smiles when they looked at Olivia. Thankfully, Jessie had been the only one in town I had dated. The town was too small, and I didn’t like gossip, nor had I wanted a reputation as the town heartbreaker. I’d kept my dating outside of town, sometimes online, when I was too lonely. I was glad I had, because it meant I wouldn’t expose Olivia to any unnecessary drama or awkward introductions. There’d been plenty of women I had turned down, however, and those were the ones who were really eyeing her.

Not that she cared or noticed. Head held high, she walked in as if she owned the place, although her eyes were wider than normal.

“How can you never have gone to something like this? What about an amusement park?” I asked, going back to her last statement.

“My father would have flayed us if we had ever done something like that.”

“Coney Island?”

She shook her head. No wonder she’d looked at everything as if it were new when we’d been together. We’d never gone to anything like this. The school event where she’d had too much funnel cake was the closest we’d come. Usually, we stayed in or went to parties unless we were out riding.