Page 123 of Playing Mr. Perfect

God, he loves to make me laugh, and I love that about him. “You’re impossible.”

He wraps me in his arms and kisses me. “And you’re my reckless girl, which means anything is possible.”

Chapter Thirty-One

Pepper

Oak Falls is home to horse farms, coffee shops, and quaint restaurants where customers are greeted like family and treated like treasured guests, whether or not they’re from the area. That’s one of the things I love most about my hometown. The people might be nosy and spread gossip faster than the wind, but as we drive through the town where I went from being a curious child to a careful teen, and finally to the woman I am today, a funny thing happens. I realize I didn’t become the woman I am today in Oak Falls. I found her in Paris with Clay, and she took root with him in Charlottesville.

As we near the festival grounds, my nervousness about seeing my family in our newfound coupledom morphs into something else. I’m proud to be with a man who adores me for who I am, with all my meticulousness and overthinking. A man who has shown me that life is so much bigger than proving to the world I’m more than just a smart person or a scientist. A man who has helped me overcome my fears and insecurities. But that doesn’t stop butterflies from swarming in my belly when we reach the crowded fairgrounds.

We’re blessed with a sunny, almost-sixty-degree day, and it looks like the whole town came out to enjoy it. Hordes of people are milling about the lawn and moving in and out of white tents decorated in pinks and reds, selling arts and crafts, jewelry, clothing, and other wares. The scents of barbecue and popcorn carry in the breeze. Bells and chimes ring out in the distance from carnival games, and heart-shaped red balloons with #teamplay printed in white on one side and #Love printed on the other dance from ribbons tied to tents and tables.

As we make our way through the crowds, parents chase after sticky-faced children eating cotton candy and ice cream. Couples sit on blankets listening to Sable’s band play on the stage. Surge came together for one last hometown event before Tuck and two other bandmates leave for LA. Couples hold hands and take pictures beneath a giant oak tree that has red streamers wrapped around its trunk, and dangling from the branches by red ribbons are large red hearts with sweetheart, love, kiss me, love you, be mine, and other sentiments written across them in white.

I know my mother and Amber are running a booth for my mother’s service-dog training business, and Morgyn has a booth for her eclectic and repurposed jewelry, clothing, and home goods. I scan the crowd looking for my other family members and notice people glancing our way, recognition lighting up their faces.

Clay lifts our joined hands and kisses the back of mine, giving me his full attention, as usual. “This reminds me of home. Ridgeport has festivals for every holiday.”

“Charlottesville has quite a few, too, but I try to come home for them when I can.”

“Do you ever miss living here?”

I wrinkle my nose.

He chuckles. “Not so much?”

“I miss my family, but a day or two every now and then is enough. I could never move back like Grace did. She was a playwright in New York City, and after she and Reed got a second chance at love, she moved back, he renovated the local theater, and now she does what she loves with the man she adores. But I need a bigger city, without the craziness of it being too big. Do you ever miss Ridgeport?”

“I’ve never thought about it. Like you, I miss my family, and there’s that sense of comfort when I go home to see my parents. But I usually get edgy staying in one place too long.”

“Oh. You’ve been in Charlottesville a while. Are you getting itchy to leave?”

“Not yet.” He stops walking and pulls me into his arms with a playful twinkle in his eyes. “You getting sick of me, Reckless?”

“Not even close. You?”

“I never get sick of myself. I’m a fun guy.”

I roll my eyes.

“I’m in no rush to be away from you, babe.”

He kisses me, and as we start walking again, I see my father coming away from a funnel cake vendor with a plate full of the powdered-sugary treat. He spots us, and a smile stretches across his handsome face. He heads in our direction. My father is the most stable man I know, and that trait carries over to every aspect of his life, from the way he wears his fair hair short and side parted to his khakis and navy sweater.

“Hungry, Dad?” I ask.

“This is for your mother. You know how much she loves funnel cake.” He draws me into a one-armed hug. “I missed you, princess.”

“I missed you, too.”

“It’s nice to see you again, Mr. M.” Clay extends his hand.

“You too, Clay.” My father glances at his hand and shakes his head, drawing him into a one-armed embrace, too. “I think you’ve earned the right to call me Cade.”

“A’right. Cade it is. This is quite a turnout.”

“The sunshine brings everyone out. How was your drive?” my father asks.