Corbin’s fingers slipped between mine as we approached the courtyard, alight with string lights and lanterns. He had been clinging to my side, determined to put me at ease.
On my other side, Bale kept pace with his hands tucked in his pockets.
His elbow brushed against my arm, whether accidentally or otherwise, I wasn’t sure.
Glancing at him at the contact, he quirked a brow ashe looked my way. The feigned innocence was as obvious as the tattoos masquerading as scarecrow stitching on his face.
I gestured at the one line of ink that curved down from his temple toward his cheek. “Did those come with the curse, or were they chosen as a fashion statement?”
The mood between the three of us still bore some tension but was lighter than it had been at their cottage earlier. Using humor to dispel some of it was a specialty of mine.
Bale’s finger traced over the depicted set of stitching over his jawline, where a day’s worth of blonde stubble had grown in.
“These? Paid for in blood, but set in ink,” he replied cryptically.
Seeing my intrigue written on my face, Bale offered further explanation. “I get another stitch tattooed every year we do this. Serves as a reminder of unseen scars.”
Surprise at the revelation that they weren’t an artistic expression had me slowing my steps.
“So, there are ninety-eight of them?” I asked.
He grinned with light amusement and nodded. Then, noticing my eyes scanning for more than what was visible on his face, he laughed.
“Not all of them are for public display, kitten. Though if you ask nicely, maybe I will let you try to find the rest of them.” He winked.
Heat crept onto my cheeks.
Corbin chuckled and tugged me close to his side. Hisfingers came beneath my chin to turn my face towards him, his lips brushed mine as he lowered his voice to a gravelly murmur.
“You’re fucking adorable when you blush. I may need to keep Bale around just to make sure it keeps happening.”
With that, he slowly pressed his mouth onto mine, consuming me slowly in a breathtaking kiss. My mind went blank except for the way it focused solely on how he smelled like clouds bathing in moonlight and tasted like apples plucked straight from the branch.
Leaning into him, my hand squeezed his until I reluctantly broke away from the kiss, feeling lighter than air afterwards.
“Keep that up, and neither of you will make it past the corn pit,” Bale mused with a spark of something in his eyes that wasn’t jealousy. More like admiration rooted in desire.
“Tempting,” Corbin growled into my ear with a teasing nip just below it. “But we wouldn’t want to disappoint the Town Council’s fondness for making a show of announcing the lucky participant in this year’s chase.”
I smiled sweetly at the thought of taking a detour towards the corn house for some privacy. However, it faltered slightly at the reality of what was going to happen this evening.
Bale picked up on it instantly. His arm slid over myshoulders, hanging loosely over them like I was just an extension of the cross frame he spoke so fondly of.
“Don’t worry, kitten,” he encouraged. “We’ve got you. Just flash a pretty smile, shake a few hands, and then you’re ours for the rest of tonight.”
Something about the way he said ‘ours’ sent a rolling heat down my spine to someplace low in my body.
We continued to walk together, arriving at the late-night activities in full swing.
Both guys subtly separated from me, not wanting to give off the appearance of intimacy. However, they remained positioned close enough to discourage anyone from approaching uninvited.
The situation being what it was, I couldn’t help but note the irony that I should be fearing their attention, not reveling in their protection.
Meanwhile, my inner cat shifter was purring like fucking Queen Sheeba.
Traitor.
All around us, Falstonians were oblivious to my conflicted feelings and too focused on indulging in corn dogs, hard cider, and what appeared to be a beer pong variation using red cups positioned on stacked hay bales.
