Roustabout (The Traveling #3) (4 page)

Zef frowned but didn’t ask any questions. After living with the guy for three years, he knew me well enough to know that questions wouldn’t get him anywhere. I turned my phone off and shoved it back in my pocket. As far as I knew, only a handful of people had my number and all of them were carnies. Whoever was calling had no business knowing where I was. I was happy here and I just wanted to be left alone.

With that thought, I tried to go back to sleep, but the best I could manage was to rest my eyes.

When we hit Fargo, Zef took a break at a truck stop we used when we were over this way, and headed for the restaurant. I loaded up on eggs, bacon, biscuits and gravy. I loved truck stops out here—none of that organic, gluten-free, dairy-free, taste-free shit that you get in California—just good, honest food for hard-working men. Just like momma used to make. Well, not my momma.

I took a cup of coffee from the waitress, winked at her as she blushed when she served us, and filled another cup to go, before heading out and hauling ass eastward.

I loved the Midwest—friendly people and wide-open spaces. My kind of place.

Our destination was the Carver County fairground in Waconia, about 20 miles from St. Paul. Aimee was excited because she’d be near enough to visit her family. Kes was less thrilled, knowing that his asshole father was also close by, but he’d get to see his sister.

Thank Christ I hadn’t hooked up with her last spring before I found out who she was. Shit would have been more than a little uncomfortable.

My gut twisted at the thought, but I did my best to ignore it.

The county fair took place later in the year, but several traveling shows like ours used the empty lots from Easter onwards. I’d visited for the first time the year before when it had been just me and Zef as Hawkins’ Daredevils. We’d done okay, putting on a pretty good show, but there was no denying that Kes was the star attraction, and without him we’d struggled to make the big bookings.

I was nearly as good a stunt rider as him, because I had no fear—not of dying anyway. I wasn’t trying to kill myself, I just didn’t care either way.

But I couldn’t do that extra shit he did—the fire juggling and what Aimee called ‘being a showman’. Kes had spent his whole life in the carnival; I’d done 12 years, and I still didn’t know everything there was to know. Along with the freedom, that was one of the things I loved about this life: every day was different, and I didn’t have to stay still.

With Kes back in the game, we were packing them into the smaller showgrounds and with luck, we’d be able to get back to some of the bigger, better-paying arenas next year. Kes and Aimee needed the money badly. I didn’t care for myself, but they deserved more.

It was nearly 11AM by the time I pulled into the fairground two hours behind already, thanks to me. The pin for the Ferris wheel was in place, stark against the pale blue sky. All around, there was a buzz of activity as families settled in and the roustabouts started to erect the games and slides, sideshows and rides.

I inched the rig toward the faded grandstand where we’d be setting up and put the rig in park, letting the diesel engine stutter and die.

Zef and I both jumped out and I stretched my back to work out some of the stiffness. Zef was already around the back unlocking the trailer’s doors.

“Welcome to Minnesota.”

I turned around, surprised to see Kes’s sister sitting on a bench in front of the grandstand, hiding a smile.

“Well, if it isn’t Miss Hawkins. You’re lookin’ prettier than ever. You sure you’re related to Kes?”

An arm hooked around my neck as Kes dragged me away, folding my arm behind my back painfully.

“No hitting on my sister, motherfucker!”

“Wouldn’t that make me a sister-fucker?” I asked, then regretted it immediately as Kes punched me in the ribs.

“Your mouth is writing checks your body can’t pay, asshole,” he grunted.

He let me go, and I stood up, rubbing my sore ribs.

“Sorry, Miss Hawkins,” I called out. “But you call me anytime you want, sugar.”

She laughed as Kes started to chase me, and I had to make like Usain Bolt.

I jogged back to the showground to get started on emptying the rig with Zef and Luke. Kes was pretty well healed after breaking his back eighteen months ago, but he wasn’t supposed to do too much of the heavy lifting. Aimee would get on his case if he did, and man! That woman had a set of lungs on her once she started.

We’d gotten it down to fine art, hauling out the ramps and setting up in the showground, but it was hot work and I was sweating like a pig. I wiped my face with the bottom of my shirt, then concentrated on tightening the bolts on the jump ramps.

The humidity was a bitch, so we were all relieved when set-up was finished. Luke and Zef went to grab showers while I decided to do a quick walk-through before I lost the light.

I was surprised to look up and see Kes’s sister watching me. I thought she’d be hanging with her brother. I was amused to see that her eyes were glued to my chest where my shirt clung to my skin, damp in the summer heat.

She sat in her little summer dress and her long, blonde hair looking sexy and classy.

But off limits.

Tera

I’d been watching Tucker for a while, probably like some creepy stalker, except I wasn’t trying to hide. He’d been so absorbed in his work that he hadn’t noticed me. I let my mind wander, imagining how I’d go about executing a hookup with my brother’s best friend.

I sighed, staring around me at the scrubby field and the carnival slowly rising skywards.

As a child, my parents had never let me near a fairground. Not that many of the girls from my school visited fairs either, but those that did talked about awesome rides, scary tattooed carnies, too much cotton candy and funnel cake. I’d had to stay home and pretend it didn’t appeal.

Now I understood the reasons why my father wouldn’t take me—but as an adult, I wasn’t sure I saw the fascination anyway. The rides looked tired and dangerously worn; the carnies were hard-eyed and clannish; and the fatty, sugary, over-priced food was a stroke waiting to happen.

And yet . . . there was no doubt in my mind that when my brother performed his amazing stunts, there was magic in the air. The looks on the faces in the crowd, men, women, and children—you could see in their awed expressions that they were witnessing something special. I’d seen some of Kes’s videos with the Daredevils on YouTube: they were absolutely terrifying!

Aimee said he wasn’t able to do all of the big stunts—yet—but I’d seen some of his practice runs before they went on the road. Few people were allowed close enough to see the blood, sweat and tears. I’d seen all of those things, and I knew the cost.

But watching Tucker check the ramps, his worn, ripped jeans clinging to his sculpted ass, I had to admit that sweat had never looked better.

If I was going to branch out from my safe, boring life, he’d be perfect: one night of mindless pleasure—it sounded good to me. I’d thought about him a lot since the night we met, but this was the first time I’d been able to get away to visit. My imagination hadn’t let me down—he was just as hot as ever.

He’d changed in the three months since I’d seen him. His skin was more tan now, but the most noticeable difference was he’d cut off his hair so it was shaved around the sides and only slightly longer on top.

I imagined running my hands over his smooth skin, tangling my fingers in his hair.

If only.

I’d never done anything like this before, but I figured that a man I was powerfully attracted to like Tucker . . . this was the place to start living my life.

But then I wondered if sleeping with my brother’s best friend was such a smart idea after all. I’d have to see him every time I visited: awkward. I’d just about convinced myself it was a bad idea and was losing my nerve when he finally spotted me. A huge smile spread across his face and he seemed genuinely pleased to see me. A small shiver traveled up my spine as he let his eyes wander across my body.

“Lookin’ good, sugar. Real classy.”

The hairs on the back of my neck stood up as I slowly turned, as if I’d only just noticed him, my head cocked to one side.

Tucker walked right up to me and was standing so close, I could see every one of the golden hairs that stubbled his cheeks and chin. His t-shirt clung damply to his chest and he was carrying a red helmet.

“Do I know you?”

He grinned at me.

“Aw, don’t be like that after all that time we spent together—you and me, alone under the stars.”

I snorted dismissively. “That’s not how I remember it. We had a two-minute conversation . . .”
and then you left to hump some other girl,
“with fifty other people present. And it was twilight.”

He smiled broadly. “See, I knew I was unforgettable.”

I chuckled quietly. “Hello, Tucker. How are you?”

“All the better for seeing you, Miss Hawkins,” he said flirtatiously.

Then he seemed to think better of his behavior and took a step away from me.

“Nice t-shirt!” I said, raising my eyebrows.

A picture of a woman was printed on the front of the worn cotton. A naked woman. Reading a book. All she was wearing was a pair of glasses.

He glanced down, as if he’d forgotten what he was wearing.

“Oh, yeah,” he grinned at me.

“Big fan of reading, I take it?”

“Big fan of brainy chicks,” he replied with a wink.

“Hmm, well, it’s sexist and it objectifies women.”

“I could take it off,” he said, his voice low and suggestive. “Then you could objectify me all you want.”

I shook my head, even as a smile overtook me, but then Tucker smiled and stood up straight.

“Well, better get back to work or the boss will kick my ass.”

He turned to leave, and I called after him impulsively. “Will you have a drink with me later?”

He hesitated, a questioning look on his expressive face, and ran his fingers through his hair which was curling up at the ends from the heat.

“That’s probably not a good idea,” he said at last.

“Because?”

Tucker sighed. “Kes wouldn’t like it.”

“He doesn’t have to—it has nothing to do with him.”

Tucker frowned and I saw his eyes dart to my lips before he looked up.

“Why is Senator Hawkin’s daughter inviting some carnie to have a drink with her?”

I stared straight back.

“Maybe the Senator’s daughter chooses her own friends.”

“Your dad wouldn’t want you talking to me, let alone having a drink with me.”

“I’m not inviting my father for a drink; I’m inviting you.”

He gave a low, quick laugh. “That’s the kind of answer Kes would have given—except you say it prettier.”

“Look,” I said, my voice no nonsense as Tucker continued to dance around the issue, “I’m in town for a few days because I’m helping my dad with a couple of things, as well as seeing Kes and Aimee. I’ve got appointments lined up during the day, but my evenings are my own.”

I raised an eyebrow, challenging him to wimp out.

“I’m staying at the Inn on Cherry Drive. There’s a separate bar with a restaurant attached to it. I’ll see you there at 8PM. You can buy the drinks—maybe dinner too, if you get lucky.”

He leaned one shoulder against the railing and stared at me.

“Kes and the Senator don’t agree on much, but neither of them would want you having drinks with a guy like me, let alone dinner.”

For once his tone was serious and his ever-present smile had vanished.

“A guy like you?” I laughed, rolling my eyes. “Oh! You mean your
reputation.
Don’t worry, you’re not that cute. I think I can resist you for one night. I just want to have a couple of drinks, eat dinner, and I’d like some company while I do it.”

The lies fell from lips with surprising ease.

“How come you’re not having dinner with Kes and Aimee?”

I rolled my eyes. “They seem to be . . . busy.”

He laughed softly, his beautiful smile lighting up his whole face.

“I don’t reckon it would be right to make a lady eat by herself, and I can hardly say no when she begs.”

“Oh, get over yourself. And for that, you’re definitely buying dinner, too.”

He looked worried for a moment and I could have kicked myself. I knew how hard it had been for the guys to get work over the last year. Maybe Tucker couldn’t afford a nice meal in a hotel. But then he smiled again.

“You drive a hard bargain, Miss Hawkins, but seeing as you begged so nicely, I’ll see you later.”

“Tucker?”

“Yes, ma’am?”

“I don’t beg.”

He raised his eyebrows, his smile growing wicked. “You sure about that, Miss Hawkins?”

“Call me Tera or TC.”

He rolled the words over in his mouth then gave a quick nod.

“See you later, TC,” and he walked away.

Damn. His ass looked fine in denim
.

As I drove back to the hotel, I had second- third- and fourth-thoughts. I didn’t have Tucker’s number so I couldn’t call him to say I’d changed my mind. I almost turned around and drove back to the fairground to cancel.
It’s just dinner,
I told myself; just friends sharing a meal. Yeah, right.