Page 59 of Pleasure & Prey: Vol. 2

Adorable.

And when they start yelling at their parents to take them back to the Ferris wheel to go again, for the sixth time today, if I’ve heard right, I remember just why I never want kids. I’d much rather be the crazy cat lady with her reformed cannibal boyfriend.

After I made my way through the animal barns to take pictures of all the livestock being shown here, I decide to make another round of the main drag, wanting to take pictures for the county fair to show just how popular it is. Maybe if I do a good job, one of my photos will end up as the main website banner to advertise the fair.

It takes a moment to realize that I recognize two of the people standing in line for the Tilt-a-Whirl. While I enjoy rides, there’s no way I’d get on that spinning death trap unless I wanted to spew chunks like Reagan in The Exorcist.

Hazel and Wren are standing there, holding hands and talking animatedly to each other. He pulls her close, smiling, and nuzzles his nose to hers in a way that makes her beam with delight.

“Sickening,” a voice beside me sighs. I know that voice, though not well. Cass has been coming around more, but his girlfriend Winnie isn’t really the most social creature I’ve ever met and she doesn’t always join him. “Simply sickening.”

“Is it?” I ask lightly, turning to give her a grin. I expect to see Cassian with her, but she’s standing there alone, unimpressed, arms folded over her chest. “You here alone?” Somewhat surprised she’s come up to me. It’s not that I don’t like her. Quite the opposite. But out of all my friends—new or old—she’s the one who reminds me the most of an ex-feral house cat. Social when she wants to be, but usually anything but.

In that way, she’s an excellent match for Cass. While Jed is quiet, he isn’t particularly antisocial. Just…shy. Not that I’ll say that to his face.

“No. My boyfriend went looking for your boyfriend. I figure they’ll stand there looking broody together while Jed makes his barbecue.” She pauses, then adds, “What, uh, meat is he substituting in his recipe?”

A smile twitches at the corner of my mouth, and I take a moment to answer, but only so I can snap some pictures of Wren and Hazel, who really do look like a couple in their honeymoon phase.

Except for Sloane and Virgil, though, they’ve been together the longest out of anyone in our friend group. Yet here they are. Still hopelessly in love with each other and not afraid to show the world. Maybe I’ll give them these photos for their wedding. Along with, well, being their photographer and not charging them. Even though Hazel has already tried to fight me on that point.

“Beef short ribs, I think,” I tell her finally. “He’s been experimenting, though. He says it’s hard to find a, um, substitute. Says the texture and taste require a ton of little adjustments. I think I asked for too many details, because he got way into it with me the other day.”

“Think he’ll win?”

“I think if that old lady in the muumuu wins, I’ll shank her with one of his fancy knives. Apparently she’s won for the past ten years or something. Maybe ten decades, who knows. There should be laws against that.”

Winnie snorts, but doesn’t reply.

Suddenly I hear both of our names, and when we look over at the Tilt-a-Whirl line, Hazel has her hand up, waving at us in an attempt to call us over.

“I’m not riding that,” Winnie declares behind me. “There’s no way in hell my stomach can take it.”

“Oh, same,” I assure her. “But we could at least be social.” Without waiting for an answer from her that could really go either way, I stride over to the two lovebirds. I can feel Winnie following me, and when I glance back, she manages a polite smile while she tucks her hair back behind her ear.

“We aren’t riding that with you,” she greets automatically, gesturing to the ride where there’s definitely a kid heaving and screaming. “That’s just asking for it.”

Wren laughs, his mouth curled into a grin as his eyes dance with humor. It’s impossible not to feel at ease around him, and when I glance his way, he inclines his head. “Not you either, Saylor? Not even as an apology?”

“For New Wren?” I assume, giving him a small roll of my eyes. “Is it really still eating at you? It’s been a year. He’s an adult. And we’re still not changing his name. You lost that vote.”

Hazel doesn’t even bother hiding her grin. “God, I love New Wren. You know, some days, I think he’s a little cuter than you.” She glances at her fiancé, who gives her a look of mock horror. When she lifts her hand to push at his chest lightly, I catch the sparkle of her engagement ring, sitting snugly on her finger.

Instinctively, I lift my camera, getting a great picture of her smiling up at him with her hand on his chest. He’s staring down at her with all the love in the world in his gaze, and I wonder how many people have ever gotten a look even slightly similar from him. Certainly none of the people he’s killed.

But God, they really are perfect for each other. While Jed isn’t a gossip, I’ve picked up bits and pieces about Hazel, and all the crap she’s dealt with in her life. I know how Wren found her, and I have, unfortunately, heard the details about the misuse of machetes in the woods.

God, I really hope that doesn’t come up at their wedding.

After I make my excuses to leave, I realize Winnie wandered away at some point. When I look around for her, I find her skulking under a few trees like a stray cat. I’m about to go over to her—surely I should be nice enough to offer her some company—when Cassian suddenly steps out from behind the bigger tree, arms going around her waist as he drops his chin on her shoulder.

Immediately something in her relaxes. It’s like having his arms around her grounds Winnie in a way that’s just natural. I can’t help taking a few photos of them as well, though these, of course, and Hazel’s, aren’t for the fair council’s use. No, they’ll go to my friends in case they want them for themselves.

Doing one more circuit of the fair takes me another thirty minutes, and by then, I hope I’ve killed enough time for Jed to be done cooking. Or almost done. When I get back to the tent, the smell of barbecue hits me hard, as if the scent is being pumped out from under the poles of the tent by fans, like Disney World and its infamous popcorn scent.

People are finally starting to gather, and it’s a perfect opportunity to work just a little bit more, though I’m pretty sure by now I have quite enough photos. Even after I take a minute to go through them to delete the blurry ones and the ones that didn’t work out how I thought they would, there are still quite a few.

When I see him, I can tell Jed is in the zone, and it’s so hard not to fill the rest of my memory card with him. Sweat is beaded on the back of his neck under his freshly trimmed dark blond hair. He bites his lower lip as he works and mumbles to himself before shaking his head.