My lips twitch as I try to contain my smile. “That guy. The one with the overalls and the pointed hat.”
“The scarecrow?”
“Mhm. I wonder if Dorothy and the lion are here, too.”
Jaxon whirls me around to face him. “Are you ever going to let that Tin Man joke go?”
“Nope.”
He bows me backward as he takes my mouth in a passionate kiss. “You’re ridiculous, Callie baby.”
“You love me.”
“I do. I really fucking do.”
He grabs my hand and tugs me into a dark alcove inside the big barn, pressing my back to the wall. His lips descend on mine, teasing and tasting me as his hands roam all over my body.
Raised voices drift into the barn from somewhere outside. “Are you fucking serious? Best man? You want me to be your fucking best man?”
“Is that…”
“Griffin?” Jaxon says. “Yeah.”
“I don’t see what the big deal is.” This time, it’s a voice I don’t recognize.
“Fuck you, Ty. You know what you did.”
“I thought we were past that. Angie?—”
“Don’t. Don’t fucking say her name right now.”
Jaxon kisses my knuckles. “We should go. I’ll check in with him later.”
I nod and follow him out of the barn, joining my sister and the girls at the face painting station.
“Uncle Jaxy!” Emmy bounds over to us, and he squats down to her level. “Mama said I can get my face painted. Will you match with me?”
He smiles. “Of course! What should we get?”
She screws up her face and taps her finger on her chin. She’s adorable, and I can’t help but smile. Watching Jaxon with his nieces always makes my chest ache with longing.
After a brief pause, she says, “I wanna be a mermaid!”
He presses his tongue to the inside of his cheek and lets out a half-hearted chuckle. “Sounds good, Emmy girl.”
I roll my lips together to stifle my laughter. My boyfriend is about to get his face painted to look like a mermaid becausethe man can’t bear to say no to his niece, and I love him all the more for it.
She grabs hold of his hand and drags him toward the face painting station. He glances over his shoulder, eyes wide, mouthing the words “help me,” but I wave him off.
I cup my hands around my mouth and shout after them, “I’ll just enjoy the view.”
I stand behind the kitchen island, clinging to the large plastic cauldron as a lime-green witch who looks vaguely like Clio pours in another bag of mixed candy.
“What are the ground rules?” I ask. “How much candy are we supposed to give out to each kid? And what happens if we have leftovers?”
Jaxon skates his silver-gloved hands up and down my arms in a soothing motion. “Breathe, Bluebird. You’re spiraling.”
“I’ve never been on this side of the door before.” My voice comes out all high-pitched and frantic.
