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“That place over there has loaded fries with pulled pork on them,” he says, pointing to one of the tents behind me and I glance over my shoulder as my mouth waters.

“Yes,” I say, nodding. “I want that.”

He laughs. “Okay. You coming with me?”

“No,” I say, looking up at the band on the stage. “I’ll just wait here.”

His brow furrows as he looks over at the tent where the food is. It’s only about thirty yards away but I swear, he’s about to argue with me. Finally, he sighs.

“Yeah, okay. Just don’t leave this spot, okay?”

I give him a mock salute. “Yes, sir.”

“I’m gonna spank your ass for all the sass,” he warns as he begins walking backwards toward the tent and I give him a mock shiver.

“Promises, promises.”

Shaking his head, he spins around and finishes making his way over to the food tent while I turn to look at the stage. I don’t recognize the song they’re playing now and I wonder if it’s an original.

It’s good, catchy with a haunting melody but the lyrics have just enough meaning to catch your attention.

“Lennon.”

I look up and suck in a breath as my heart jumps into my throat.

“Owen,” I whisper, stumbling back. The music I was just listening to fades under the sound of my heart pounding in my ears and my stomach flips.

Why is he here?

Was he looking for me?

And how the hell did he find me?

This is the man I spent so many years with and now, looking at him in front of me, I’m not sure how. He’s a stranger to me.

“Can we talk?”

I shake my head before the question even registers. “No.”

“Lennon, please,” he says, taking a step towards me and I retreat, my back hitting the pole of one of the tents. It shakes from the force of my body and I reach back, grabbing it so it doesn’t fall. And to give me something to anchor myself. My hands are shaking and I can’t seem to catch my breath.

“I need to talk to you,” Owen insists, getting closer. It feels wrong. Everything about this feels so fucking wrong. I don’t want him anywhere near me.

He reaches his hand out.

I jerk back.

No.

I don’t want his hands on me.

“Absolutely fucking not.”

Dalton.

Then, he’s there.

Owen stumbles back as Dalton shoves him, inserting himself between me and the man who can’t seem to get a goddamn hint.