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I perk up. “Like role play?”
“You can take out your frustrations on me. It might make you feel better.”
The suggestion appeals to me. It’s confusing, but invigorating.
A character much bolder and seductive than me takes shape in my mind. “I’ll use you and your dick for my pleasure until I’ve had my fill.”
The longing in his eyes reveals that I’m spot on with my phrasing. “Please don’t tease me.”
“Hush, big boy.” I drift two fingers down his scruffy cheek and smile when he leans into my touch. “From now on, you’ll take whatever I give you and beg for more.”
Music at the Park is one of my favorite annual traditions in Cloverleaf Meadows. The festival always takes place on the Thursday before, after, or on the Fourth of July. This year it falls two days prior to the holiday.
Despite the wicked heat, I’m grinning like royalty as we wade through the organized chaos. Meanwhile, Chance is driving the struggle bus next to me. His huffs and puffs could blow the skirts completely off of the three women we just passed. Other people give him a wide berth. My frenemy currently resembles a pack mule. We agreed that I can take out my frustrations on him, but this is excessive.
“Give me something to carry.” I hover a palm over the camping chairs balanced on his back, afraid the entire load will topple over if I touch anything.
“Not a chance,” he grunts and stumbles out of reach. “This is my penance. Don’t pity me. You’re being too generous already.”
A scoff that’s drier than the current drought disagrees. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”
Sweat clings to his tan forehead. “That’s the least of my worries.”
“Fine. Whatever.” I square my frame and resume the role of his ruthless boss who demands obedience. “Hurry up, bad boy. Don’t make me punish you.”
“That’s my girl,” he wheezes while trudging after me.
The large, sloped field has been transformed into an outdoor concert venue for the event. Several local performers are scheduled to take the stage throughout the night. Blankets and chairs already hog most of the grassy area. We arrived later than expected thanks to Chance screwing up the inventory at the store. I spent an extra two hours fixing his mistakes. It’s difficult to find reliable free labor these days.
I shade my eyes while searching for an empty spot. “How about over there?”
“Perfect.” But his gaze is on my ass.
That gives my sassy attitude an unnecessary boost. After we’ve taken ten steps in one direction, I decide to pivot and stride off in another. This begins a zig-zag pattern as I test Chance’s tolerance for my bullshit. He doesn’t complain. At least not until I’ve swerved back the way we came and glance up the hill.
“Wildflower.” His breathing is labored. “Are you doing this on purpose?”
“Of course,” I chirp and send him a smile over my shoulder. “Had enough?”
A stubborn glint hardens his green stare and I think he’s going to resist. But then his knees wobble. The weight is getting to him.
“There’s a great view from here,” he rasps.
Which is the truth. The stage is directly ahead and our sight is unobstructed. I pretend to think on it for a solid ten seconds.
My shrug is indifferent. “It’ll do.”
On a loud groan, Chance dumps our stuff into a messy heap. It’s entirely too much for a few hours, but he refuses to do anything halfway. Lounging in luxury while watching a concert and fireworks is very much included.
His gruff voice stops me when I bend to grab the picnic blanket. “Don’t even think about it.”
My spine snaps upright. “You want me to just stand here?”
“Yes.” Chance gets the blanket flattened out and unfolds the oversized club camp chairs.
I fidget when he gets to work setting up the collapsible table. “Everyone is staring at me being worthless.”
“They’re just jealous of your beauty,” he replies casually while tugging an ottoman from its carrying case.
