“Want to get a bite to eat before we see what all Asheville has to offer?”
“As long as we aren’t doing any rides for a while.” She looks down the row of food trailers and smokers. “I don’t want to ruin the day by losing my lunch.”
“It’ll be a while before we make it to the rides.”
“Then let’s go.” She moves through the crowd, checking out each food vendor.
“What are you in the mood for?”
She grips my hand and stops in her tracks as soon as she sees what she’s looking for. “I didn’t think places outside of the state fair had turkey legs and roasted corn.”
“I take it that’s what you want.”
“Absolutely.” She pulls me behind her as she makes her way toward the end of the lane where two huge smokers have a line of people in front of them. “It’s the only reason I actually go to the fair, and I’m always sad it only lasts a month.”
“I haven’t been there since I was in high school, and we got free tickets and a day off from school.”
“The kids have been bugging me about going this year already, and they don’t start school for another month.”
“Can you blame them?” The line is moving pretty quickly, but I keep all of my attention on Joan. I plan on making this relationship between us work, and her kids are part of the equation. I want to know about them. “It’s the perfect day. No school, and fun.”
“Yeah, I usually have to save up to go, but with the tips I’ve been getting, it won’t be a problem this year. And it won’t dip into Isaac’s car fund.”
“Wow.”
“What?”
Shaking my head, I stand in awe of her. “Nothing. I didn’t realize you had a soon-to-be driver. I’ll be happy when my little brother can drive. Then I won’t have to run him all over the place for his practices.”
“Such is the life of a parent, or sibling. Isaac will need to help me out with Abby’s practice schedules, but he says he doesn’t mind. Now if I could actually get him to practice driving.”
“I’m guessing he has no interest?”
“Nope. I’m not sure if he’s scared of other people on the road, or he just doesn’t want to do it.” She throws her arms up in exasperation, “I don’t know what is wrong with kids these days. Most of his friends don’t want to drive either. When I was his age, I couldn’t wait to learn. It offered a bit of freedom.”
“My brother doesn’t want to drive either. It definitely has to be a generational thing. I loved when I got my license, even if it was the beginning of being a chauffeur for my brother. My mom has always worked long hours, and I picked up the slack where I could.”
“No wonder women find you irresistible.”
The line moves and we take a few steps forward. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’re the full package, even at a young age.” She lets go of my hand and ticks off her fingers. “You have a steady job. Obviously, family is a big deal to you. And…you’re sweet. Plus, protective. Honestly, I don’t know how someone hasn’t taken you off the market, yet.”
“Maybe I’m the one who’s been holding out. I knew there had to be someone who better suited me out in the universe.” I grab hold of her hand again, ensuring she knows it’s her I’m talking about.
She may have her doubts, but I don’t have any. It’s also probably too soon to even be thinking that way, but sometimes you just know. It’s a gut feeling that won’t go away. I had it the first time I saw her, and it only grew the more I got to know her.
It’s our turn to place our order, and I wish there were more people in front of us. I need to hear what she has to say about what I just admitted.
“Do you want to share, or do we need to each get our own?” It doesn’t matter either way to me. I’ll do whatever makes her happy.
“I always tell my kids it’s better to share. But…I typically only get this food once a year, and I’m not great about sharing my food.”
“Fine by me.” I tell the man behind the smoker we’ll take two turkey legs and roasted corn.
He hands a foil wrapped leg to each of us before giving us the corn. He points to the side where the seasoning is placed for the corn. This moment is important. I need to see what seasonings she puts on her corn. She uses the spray butter first. Okay, we’re on the same page. Then she studies the other items before picking up cajun seasoning and sprinkling it heavily on her corn. It’s like we’re two peas in a pod.
She follows me to tables that are lined up in the middle of the street under a set of canopies. Both of us sit at the same time and take a bite into the corn. She moans in appreciation. “You keep making those noises and we’ll go right back to my house.”
