Page 46

The question pulls me out of my thoughts. “What?”

“The fair.” The remark comes out light, but the concern beneath it isn’t. “You’ve gone quiet.”

I look back toward the Ferris wheel turning slowly beneath the pale morning sky. “No, I don’t hate it.”

His chest vibrates with a rumble of discontent. “A glowing endorsement.”

“No, I mean it.” I hug my stuffed fox closer. “I’m having fun.”

The rumble deepens, and I find myself inching closer to the sound.

Orien doesn’t say anything else. He just stands beside me with quiet contentment vibrating out of him while the line inches forward.

It does strange things to my heart, and somewhere between joining the line and ordering, my arm ends up pressed against his.

“One funnel cake,” Orien tells the woman at the fryer. “Extra powdered sugar.”

I gasp. “That’s going to be so messy.”

“I’ll clean you up.”

The comment warms my cheeks again as Orien pays for my prize.

A few minutes later, the woman hands over a paper tray piled high with fried dough beneath a mountain of powdered sugar.

Heat seeps through the paper as Orien passes it to me. “Careful, it’s hot.”

He grabs a pile of napkins, and we move off to the side to leave space for the next person to pick up their order.

“Want to check out the craft booths while you eat?”

“Sure,” I say, already picking off a hot piece of fried dough. I shove it into my mouth, and the outside crackles while the inside stays soft and steaming.

“Oh my god,” I moan around the bite.

Amusement flickers across Orien’s features as I immediately reach for another.

And another as I wiggle with pleasure.

“At this rate, I’m going to develop a complex about fried dough,” he says.

“Mind your business.”

“You have sugar all over your mouth.”

“I do not.”

“You do.”

I try to wipe at my mouth with the back of my hand, but Orien catches my wrist before I can.

“Hold still.”

Instead of using the pile of napkins he holds, his thumb brushes the corner of my mouth, and my breath hitches.

The fair keeps going around us, shouts going up as someone wins a game, and a child shrieks nearby, but none of it reaches me as his thumb skims over my bottom lip, gathering more of the powdered sugar.

When he pulls back, his eyes hold mine as he slides his thumb into his mouth.