As if he knows he has an audience, Dax looks up at us. His smile widens, and he lifts a hand in a small wave. It’s exactly what he used to do when I was cheering, and he sat in the stands with our other friends. Sheepish. Totally adorable.
My face heats as I wave back, and Cathy and her friend gape at me.
Recognition replaces Cathy’s obvious envy. “Clara Morgan, my God. It’s been ages.” She pulls me in for a hug and squeezes me.
“Hi, Cathy. I hope you ladies are enjoying yourselves.”
The dark-haired woman with her hums again and openly gawks at Dax. “With a view like this, of course we’re enjoying ourselves.”
“Now, Clara, you and Dax were really close, if I remember correctly?” Cathy asks.
“Yes. We’re still good friends.”
“Only friends?” Cathy quirks an eyebrow.
I flip my hair over my shoulder and laugh softly, remembering how many times in high school people asked the same question. They’d have the same doubtful expressions on their faces as Cathy does now when I’d confirm we were only friends.
Dax and I have lived on separate sides of the country for over ten years. It’s been a while since I’ve had to answer this question.
It’s nostalgic.
The Harvest Festival.
This town.
Dax.
The boy I used to ride bikes with, to the guy who took shots with me in college, to the man standing before me in a white coat.
My mind flashes to him shirtless at the barbecue last weekend.
He’s definitely a man now. Strong square jaw and all.
Instead of answering Cathy as I used to, I blurt, “We kissed once.” Blinking rapidly, I wonder why on earth I said that out loud. “It was fifteen years ago, though, so it doesn’t really count,” I add quickly, waving them off.
Thankfully, it’s my turn to order, so I don’t have to field their questions.
My cheeks are flushed as I carry the two corn dogs toward the first-aid tent for Dax and me. Our kiss is not something I often recall. Where did that even come from?
As I approach, Dax removes his gloves, then tosses them in a bin in the corner. He washes his hands as best he can with a water bottle and then uses an extra-large heaping of hand sanitizer.
“Hi.” His eyes are especially bright today, but he has dark circles under each one.
I nod to Staci and Brooks, who both greet me, then return my focus on Dax. “You’re tired.”
“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.