“I’m coming off a sixty-hour workweek, and this was my only day off until Wednesday, so…” He shrugs and takes a corn dog from me. He eats half of it in one bite before I even get a taste of mine.
“You shouldn’t have done this today,” I say. Mustard drips from the corner of his mouth. Without thinking, I wipe the yellow condiment away, my thumb tingling against his light stubble. I sharply inhale, then clear my throat in an attempt to cover it.
I’m only being motherly, anyway. It’s what I do since I have a ten-year-old.
If he notices anything, he doesn’t mention it. Instead, he asks, “Where’s Jacob?”
“He wanted to help my mom and Andrew with their winery’s booth, but obviously, that’s not exactly the place I wanted my ten-year-old to hang around. So, after I shot that down, he was determined to ride every single ride—”
“And you pawned him off on one of the other parents, so you don’t have to ride them,” he finishes for me. He knows these carnival rides make me sick.
“Exactly, and before you go judging my parenting skills—”
“Which I’m not.”
“—he’s with Grayson Malone and his son Luke. They’ve become fast friends, apparently—Jacob’s words. Besides, I heard Grayson saved a few hikers lost in the Sierras a while back, so I figured he could handle two boys and a few rides.”
“True.” He swallows another bite, peering behind me. “What were you and Chatty Cathy talking about over there?”
I giggle at the nickname she’s earned herself over the years. “Nothing of importance,” I say, then take a bite of my food.
“I’d be careful about what you say to her. It’s only a matter of time before the whole town knows.”
“Yes, I’m aware of the ‘news’ she spreads.” I use quotes around the word news with an eye roll. “Too bad it’s not news when you say something about the past.”
“Depends on if it affects the present.”
I consider his statement in light of what I said to Cathy, but he carries on, sloppily eating his corn dog. I suspect it’s because he’s in a hurry that he’s being so messy. He’s usually the neat guy who eats over a sink, careful not to make a mess.
“Watch where you’re going.” I jerk my attention to the other side of the tent. Staci and Brooks glare at each other like the rest of us don’t exist.
Brooks is the first to break their staring contest with a smirk. “You just can’t keep your distance, can you?”
“You did not just insinuate what I think you—”
“Oh, but I did.” He leans in and whispers something in her ear, but I can’t hear them.
She shoves him and stalks away, ripping her gloves off in the process.
Dax chuckles. It rumbles deep in his chest, and I can almost feel the vibrations as he leans in. “I wish they would fuck already and get it out of their systems.”
My jaw drops.
I blush at his use of the word fuck. I’ve heard the word plenty of times before. I’ve even heard it from Dax but hardly ever in this context.
To describe the actual act.
It’s… hot.
I gulp.
We’re alone in the tent when Brooks puts his hands on his hips and says to us, “I heard that.”
“Wasn’t being quiet,” Dax teases as a nurse brings a little girl in.
“Dr. Pearson, can I get your help with Kayla here? She’s running a fever, among other symptoms.”
“Coming.” He shoves the rest of his corn dog in his mouth and shrugs. With a mouthful, he chokes out, “I’ll come over tonight and help you hang the rest of your stuff up.”
“It’s mostly done already. You should go home and rest after this.”
He backs away with his hands out. “Okay, you caught me. I just want some of Andrew’s Cabernet.” He swallows the rest of his food and gives me a big grin. “Thanks for the corn dog. Seems like I ate Zach’s winning barbecue days ago at this point.”
“Can’t have a starving doctor on our hands.”
As he tends to the little girl with a red face, my lips twitch. How easily we’ve fallen back into our friendship over the last week, like we never parted.
Granted, we talked on the phone several times a week over the years. Our visits were rare, especially while he completed his fellowship, and I got busy with Jacob’s school activities and Mitch’s illness.
Mitch’s funeral was the first time I’d seen Dax in person after about four years.
Even then, I didn’t really see him.
I didn’t see anyone. They were all a blur through my teary eyes as I laid my husband to rest.
Shaking my head of those dark days, I check in with Jacob as I make my way over to my mom and Andrew’s booth. Jacob answers my text after a few minutes that he and Luke are trying to see who throws up first—boys.
“What’re you smiling about?” My mom points at me from behind a table. Corked wine bottles are scattered in front of her for their tasting. “Did you get into our wine stash while we weren’t looking?”
“No.” I give her a hug. “It’s just a good day.”
“Of course, it is. It’s the Harvest Festival.” She throws her arms up, then turns when a woman stops and asks for a recommendation for Cabernet Sauvignon.
“You have to try this one.” My mom pours a tasting size portion of red wine in a plastic cup. The woman smells the cup’s contents while my mom says, “Notice the notes of spicy oak and licorice, among others.”
The woman nods and takes a sip, humming in appreciation.
“Can I help with anything?” I ask my stepdad, Andrew.
“Oh, thank you,” he says in his Greek accent. His tan skin is tinged with red, and I suspect he’s been out in the vineyards all week. Mom says he forgets his hat sometimes to keep him from burning. “I think we’re okay for now, but don’t forget to grab wine for your house
