Beck stiffened, gritting out, "I swear that man wants me to help him."

"He isn't cursing at me. I'd say he's backed off," she said.

"Doesn't matter if he's backed off or not," West said. He'd gone all out with his pimp costume, wearing a rainbow-colored faux-fur coat and bell-bottoms, even carrying a gold cane. "He still looked at another man's property, and that's a crime deserving of torture."

With the bitter twinge in his voice, he sounded as if he knew a little something about that.

"Property?" she said.

"I prefer the word toy," Beck said, and nipped at her ear. "Let me play with you."

Tawny and Charlene bounded over. Both women wore lingerie. Or sc.r.a.ps of material trying to pa.s.s themselves off as lingerie. They each held a gourmet corn dog from Brook Lynn's booth, and Harlow made a mental note: next stop, Brook Lynn's booth, whether the town revolted or not. I want.

"Hi, Beck. Hi, West," Tawny said, her gaze locked on Beck. She twirled a lock of pale hair between her fingers and licked at the tip of her corn dog.

If she gave that tasty treat a b.l.o.w. .j.o.b, Harlow might just go nuclear.

"You're looking good, Beck," Charlene said. She was a young, newly divorced brunette who'd once helped Harlow terrorize the town, becoming the new queen bee when Harlow retired.

"Gotta say, you are absolutely adorable as a p.u.s.s.ycat tamer," Charlene added, shooting Harlow a gleeful smirk. "You can wrangle me anytime. Again."

Tawny nodded enthusiastically. "I second that."

Harlow stiffened.

Beck offered the pair a cold but gorgeous smile and they preened happily, not seeming to realize the danger zone they'd entered. "Have you guys met my girlfriend, Harlow? Nowadays I spend all my time with my girlfriend, Harlow." Just for good measure, he added, "My girlfriend-Harlow."

"Hi. I'm his girlfriend. Harlow," she said with a little wave.

Tawny bared her teeth in a scowl.

"Harlow Gla.s.s," a voice boomed. Scott's voice. She turned, right along with Beck and West. "No one wants you here. Go home."

Beck vibrated with barely suppressed violence as Scott, who'd said his piece, tipped his hat and ambled off.

"I'm fine," she told Beck. Her boyfriend. "He's not worth ruining our day."

"You're not worth it, either," Tawny said, now radiating smug satisfaction, "but that hasn't stopped you from ruining ours."

West smiled a seducer's smile-one Harlow had never seen him use before, and oh, wow, it might possibly have beaten Beck's for World's Most Devastating. The girls certainly weren't immune. They released dreamy sighs and instinctively stepped closer to the man.

"Ladies," he said. "We don't know each other well enough, and that's a mighty shame. Though I do recall introducing my tongue to yours, Charlene, when we were drunk-or was that you making my head spin?" He stepped toward them, widening his arms to snake around both their waists, the beefcake in a b.i.t.c.h-sandwich. Taking one for the team? "Why don't we start with you two telling me every detail about your childhoods and end with your crush on me," he said, drawing them away.

Charlene went eagerly, while Tawny threw a devious glance at Harlow before heading off.

Beck didn't say another word and neither did Harlow, who was too afraid she'd start cussing.

A lady keeps the corridors of her lips clean, her mother used to say.

Not feeling so ladylike now, Momma. Her claws were out, and they were hungry for blood.

A Ferris wheel had been erected down the street, the first the town had ever had. There was a line almost as long as the one at Brook Lynn's booth, but Beck bypa.s.sed it without apology. Not that anyone seemed to care. He even received several pats on the shoulder.

"Best festival yet," someone said.

"You sure know how to give good festival," someone else said.

That's right. He, West and Jase had paid for everything. No wonder no one minded that he'd cut the line.

"We're next," he told Sunny Day, who stood at the front collecting money.

"Is that so?" With oil money to burn, and a temper legendary in five states, Sunny wasn't one to give in easily.

"That's so. How much?"

The piercing in her nose gleamed, a diamond shiny even without the help of the sun. "Twenty. Each."

"The sign says five dollars a ride," Harlow pointed out.

She smacked her gum. "Take it or leave it."

"We'll take it."

Harlow finished off her sweet tea with three big gulps, and oh, gross! Tea leaves must have settled at the bottom of the cup, because the drink left a bitter aftertaste for the first time.

Beck threw the cup in the trash, then dug two twenties from his pocket. Sunny pocketed the cash, unabashed. Never mind the festival's profits were supposed to help add a gymnasium to Strawberry High.

With a few b.u.t.ton pushes, the wheel soon came to a stop.

"Everyone but Mayor Trueman and his a.s.sistant," Sunny said, using air quotes, "can stay put."

The mayor was not the most liked person in town nowadays. A few days ago, word about his affair with his "a.s.sistant" spread, devastating his wife.

Beck dragged Harlow to the empty cart, ensured her tail was out of the way before buckling in, and then waited until they were in the air to speak.

"I can't change my past," he said as the wheel started its slow ascent and Harlow had no means of escape.

"I know." She peered out at the town; the higher they lifted the more she saw. Sweeping hills, flat plains, fields of wheat, cotton trees shedding the small white blooms, valleys with strawberry vines drying out for the cold months ahead.

"You can't change yours, either."

"I know that, too." The air smelled so fresh up here. The dew of coming rain dampened her skin. A cool breeze bl.u.s.tered past and she shivered. With Beck, run-ins like this would happen again and again. Women would always throw themselves at him. Always desire him.

"Talk to me." Beck drew her firmly against his side, shielding her from the worst of the wind. "Tell me what you're feeling."

A thousand different things. Upset. Remorse. Regret. Resignation. Determination. But at the forefront? "Jealousy," she admitted. "You're mine, and yet they know intimate details about you. They probably discuss you, and even hope to get you back into bed again."

He kissed her temple, lingering over her skin. "They will never succeed. I've had a taste of you, love, and I am utterly addicted."

Love. The endearment rocked her, as precious as it was life changing. Did he mean it the way she prayed he did? Did he actually love her as she'd suspected?

"I know we discussed this, but I need to hear the answer again. Do you ever compare me to them?" she asked.

"All the time." At her outraged gasp, he laughed. "They lose. Always."

Slowly she relaxed against him. As the Ferris wheel made its descent, it seemed as if half the town watched her and Beck's cart. He received a few winks, even more thumbs-up. Giving everyone a show, Beck anch.o.r.ed two fingers under her chin, turned her head and kissed her.

The crowd cheered, and the wheel began another ascent, throwing Harlow's stomach into her feet, making her light-headed and deliciously dizzy. At the same time, pa.s.sion burned through her, white-hot. With Beck, pa.s.sion always burned through her. He tasted so good, his heat a soothing balm to her tattered soul, and by the time he pulled away, she was panting, squirming in her seat.

He rubbed his nose against hers, his thumbs brushing over her cheekbones in a featherlight caress. "You're not thinking of leaving me, are you?"

"I'd rather die," she said, putting everything on the line.

A flash of relief in eyes now hot with more than desire. "I probably shouldn't tell you this, but we are open and honest with each other, so you need to know a different answer would have meant I started playing hardball and let you see my dark side."

"You have a dark side?"

"Pray you never meet him. He spanks."

She chuckled. "I'm beginning to think you've got a secret fetish."

"Secret? Love, I've been thinking about it since the moment we met. Just been waiting for the green light from you."

"Well, I will let you spank me the day you let me spank you."

"So...today?" he quipped.

Her smile stretched from ear to ear. "You are incorrigible. You know that, right?"

"I believe the word is p.r.o.nounced irresistible."

"And you have no shame," she added.

"But you love me anyway." As the words echoed between them, he frowned and shifted away from her.

Did he not like the thought of her love? Despite the fact he'd used the endearment with her twice already?

Her stomach roiled so hard she gasped, and as the wheel continued to climb, the roiling only grew worse. In all her life, she'd only been sick only a handful of times. Her mom used to say she had the immune system of a champion. But the times she had gotten sick, she'd fervently prayed to be wiped from the planet forever; the fever, chills, sweats, and trembles so violent she'd looked as if she were having a seizure had been almost too much to bear.

This was somehow worse.

She clutched her stomach, beads of sweat popping up on her brow. She could actually feel the blood draining from her face and knew she was deathly pale, judging by the horror suddenly radiating from Beck.

"What's wrong, love?"

"My stomach hurts. Bad." Bile rose.

"Get us down," he shouted to Sunny. "Now."

The girl held out her arms, all what am I supposed to do? Pull you off with my she-strength?

Beck flattened his palm on Harlow's belly and gently rubbed. "Just hold on a little longer, baby. I'll get you home."

Nausea churned faster, harder, and she gagged. She judged the remaining distance with dread. Not even halfway down yet. She wasn't going to make it, was she?

"Beck," she said on a moan.

He understood. He ripped off her cat-ears headband, tucked her hair under the collar of her shirt and held on tight to her waist, saying, "Lean over as far as you can. I won't let you fall."

At any other time she would have been humiliated. Right then she hurt too much. So she did it. She leaned over and vomited her guts out, spraying whoever stood below their cart.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN.

BECK HAD NEVER been so scared in his life. Over the years, he'd been beaten, s.e.xually used and manipulated by a foster mom, abandoned and forgotten. But this-this was far worse. He'd never had a woman of his own, and he'd never had to worry about anyone but himself. Jase and West had always been self-sufficient. If one of them had gotten sick, they'd sucked it up and yelled at anyone who dared approach. Only in the privacy of their rooms had they curled into b.a.l.l.s of pain and rocked back and forth, moaning and softly begging for mercy. The manly way.

But by the time his friends returned home later in the evening, their laughing voices echoing all the way to the bedroom, Harlow had grown far worse. She'd begun to dry heave, too weak to make it to the bathroom or even hold herself up. Beck had to carry her and anchor her against his chest, afraid she'd drown in the toilet otherwise.

"You're going to be okay," he told her. "You have to be okay."

She was too weak to respond. She could no longer even hold open her eyelids.

When a few minutes pa.s.sed without another incident, he carried her to bed and tucked her into the softness of the sheets. Her face was puffy from strain, her skin waxen and clammy. Locks of hair clung to her damp cheeks and neck. He dressed her in a clean T-shirt but it, too, stuck to her skin.

Brook Lynn and Jessie Kay entered the room and flanked his sides.

"I heard she threw up on the mayor," Jessie Kay said. "I thought it was the most awesome prank ever. I didn't realize..."

"She'll be okay," he repeated. More to himself than to them.

Brook Lynn patted his arm. "Why don't you take a shower, get changed. Let us take care of Harlow for a while."

"No. I'm not leaving her side." This woman was the center of his world. He'd let her in, or maybe she'd burrowed her way inside. Either way, she belonged to him and with him, and d.a.m.n it, he needed her to get better, and he needed to see her do it.

She'd been fine one moment and deathly ill the next. She wasn't feverish or exhibiting any other symptoms.

"Is there some kind of virus going around?" he asked, desperate for answers. He couldn't help her until he knew what was wrong.

"No, otherwise I would have gotten it long before now," Jessie Kay said. "I always get sicker faster and far worse than everyone else. Could she have eaten too much junk food?"

A soft moan rose from Harlow-right before she vomited up a river of blood.

The crimson splatter on the sides of her mouth had to be the most horrifying sight he'd ever seen. Beck sprang into action. He scooped Harlow into his arms, her body utterly boneless, and shouldered his way into the hall. "Jase! West!"