His fingers press into the side of my neck.
“Fine.” I crack. “I did! But it’s not my fault you’re so gullible.”
He gives my neck one last squeeze before he gives my shoulder a shove. I fall back onto the mattress with a wince.
Panic flashes across his face as he reaches to help me sit up. “Shit. I’m so sorry. Are you okay? I should have been more carefu—”
I fix my sling. “Relax. It was an accident.”
His face pales. “On second thought, we should wait until you’re cleared by a doctor before doing anything else.” He takes a large step back.
“That’s not for another two weeks!”
“I’m not going to risk you getting hurt again.”
My heart does a betraying dive straight into enemy territory, exposing my weakness.
Him.
I’m not sure how long this thing will last between Julian and me, but I plan on making the most of it—and him—until the time comes for me to leave.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Dahlia
It’s easy to spend the rest of the morning in our own little bubble while picking up the party supplies and driving back to Lake Wisteria. With Julian playing our favorite songs from high school while I belt out the lyrics at the top of my lungs, time flies as we drive back to town.
I’m hit with a weird feeling when Julian removes his hand from my thigh, and I mourn the loss as we drive toward the park where the Harvest Festival is being set up.
We both stick to opposite ends of the park while we help his mom with anything she needs for tomorrow’s event. Julian holds true to his promise of not touching me in public, although I do catch him staring at me a few times with a strange expression on his face.
I wake up Saturday pleasantly surprised by the way I’m buzzing with excitement rather than feeling heavy with dread. It’s a positive sign I plan on sharing with my therapist during our next session, and one I plan on taking full advantage of today as I head to the Harvest Festival for my morning shift.
Not many people are interested in bu?uelos at this time of day, so I entertain myself by watching Julian struggle his way through running the champurrado booth.
“All good?” I ask when he curses at himself in Spanish.
He wipes his face with the back of his hand. “Perfect.”
“Hey, mister. Hurry up! I’m losing my patience here,” a ten-year-old hollers from the back of the line.
I laugh as a few others start a chant.
“Thank God I’m never having children,” he mutters under his breath.
“No?” I’m surprised I can manage the word with how tight my throat feels.
“Don’t tell me you want them after listening to these guys all morning.”
I take a huge bite out of a bu?uelo despite my stomach rolling while Julian makes his way through the line of children at a snail’s pace. A few of the kids find their way over to my booth after they pay him, and I set them each up with a mini bu?uelo and a suggestion to dip it into the drink Julian made.
“That’s disgusting.” Julian’s nose twitches.
“You haven’t tried it.”
A kid follows my advice, and his eyes light up. “This is awesome!” He holds up his hand.
I high-five him before turning to Julian. “Told you so.”
“No one likes a know-it-all.”
“I wanna try!” The blonde girl I saw with Alana pops out from behind a group of kids and passes me a hundred-dollar bill.
“Umm…one second.” I open the cash register and attempt to gather enough bills together to give her change.
“Don’t worry about that.” A deep male voice has me turning to find the blond guy I’d seen with her before.
What was his name again? Al?
I hold the crisp bill in the air for him to see. “She gave me a hundred-dollar bill.”
“Save it for college.” The little girl winks.
While I’m flattered she thinks I look young enough to attend college, I’m mildly concerned that she hands out hundreds like singles.
“Are you Alana’s kid?” I throw some batter into the fryer.
“Yup! I’m Cami.”
“You know my fiancée?” the man—possibly Al—asks.
“Yup. The three of us went to high school together.” I point my thumb back at Julian, who scowls at the man across from me.
“You didn’t tell me that, Julian,” Al says.
“You didn’t ask,” Julian replies with a bored tone.
Hm. “You two know each other?”
“I remodeled his house last year,” Julian states.
“Of course you did.”
Alana’s fiancé offers me his hand. “Callahan Kane.”
Callahan freaking Kane?
I’ve been in the presence of American royalty and I had no idea. While Declan Kane, the eldest grandson of the Kane Company’s founder, is instantly recognizable given the number of articles published about him becoming CEO, Callahan Kane has been under the radar and out of the press spotlight for years.
If I were an heir to the biggest media conglomerate and Dreamland theme park empire, I would want to stay out of the public eye too. Those reporters are vicious, and I can’t think of a better target than three handsome billionaires.
“I had no idea you went to high school with my fiancée,” Callahan says.
I regain control of myself. “Julian and I weren’t exactly part of the cool crowd.”
“No?”
“We were a bit busy making honor roll and whatnot.”
“Ahh. Got it.” His head tilts and his eyes squint in a way I know all too well. “Wait. Are you that interior designer who has a show on TV?”
My cheeks heat. “Yup.”
“I knew it! My sister-in-law is a huge fan of your show.”
“Really?” I manage to squeak out.
“Oh, yeah. She binged all your episodes before renovating her house.”
“That’s nice.” My nerves take over because a freaking Kane watches my show.
His smile is nothing but warm. “I didn’t realize you were from around here.”
“Born and raised.” I throw a thumbs-up like a complete loser.
“Do you plan on sticking around town for a while between filming seasons?”
“Um…sure.”
Julian tenses.
Callahan claps his hands together. “That’s great news because my brother and his wife want to buy a property around here, so I’m sure they’ll need a local interior designer. I know Iris will flip out if you’re free.”
Me? Designing a house belonging to the Kane family? I’m afraid I might pass out at the mere idea.
Julian’s glare could increase the world’s temperature by a few degrees. “She’s not available.”
“She can speak for herself.” I turn toward Alana’s fiancé with a small smile. “I might be filming by the time that happens, but even if I am, I’d still love to help your family.”
“Dahlia!” Alana rushes over. “I should have guessed you would be working the bu?uelos booth this year.” She pulls me into a hug before grabbing Cami’s hand and tugging her away from the booth. “I told you no more sweets until after lunch.”