The Bachelor And The Beauty Queen

Stephen’s attention turned toward Chantal for a brief moment, then to Lexi. Unlike Chantal, Lexi did not cower. She squared her shoulders and jutted her chin forward.

“You gave me some sound advice,” he said to her. “You told me I needed to keep a better eye on my niece, so here I am—making sure she never sets foot in this shop again.”

Silence fell over Lexi, who was not sure what to say. “I did promise we weren’t done.”

“All this because you think I sold your niece a dress?”

“I don’t think,” he clipped.

Lexi inhaled a sharp breath. “I would like to meet this niece of yours. No one here has sold my personal dress to a child.”

“So now my niece is a liar?”

“I am saying there has been a mistake.”

“She’s either a liar or a thief?” Stephen raised a brow.

The room grew hot. Lexi’s cheeks flushed red. She had to get her bearings. Pressing her nails into the palms of her hands as she made a fist, Lexi slowly breathed in and out. “If you would be so kind as to bring your niece in here, we can get to the bottom of this mystery.”

“Ha!” he scoffed. “I think you’ve done enough damage to my family.”

Lexi opened her fists. “So this is like some sort of revenge plot?”

Stephen sniffed the air and contemplated his next words. “Actually, it’s going to be a lot like that. I think, instead of never selling my niece a dress again, I may decide to have you never sell a dress again, period.”

From the arrogance in his voice, Lexi imagined him to be the type of man to stroll into a restaurant without a reservation an hour before closing and order Lobster Thermidor or a rack of lamb. His entitlement irked her.

“Well. I see that no one left my keys here with you. I guess I’ll be on my way to their home and pick them up.” He nodded his head goodbye in Chantal and Andrew’s direction.

Once the bells over the door stopped chiming, Lexi let out the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “What just happened?”

* * *

Turning a bakery into an office would take most of the summer, but doing so made sense. Things in his current home office were too close for comfort. Technically he blamed himself for the loss of his keyboard. One of these days he needed to remind Philly not to take food out of the kitchen. The wonderful cotton candy her grandparents had bought deflated and brought in a trail of ants on his desk. The new building was hardly turnkey ready. Thankfully he had Nate and his toolbox to help get things in order to open up the brand-new location of Reyes Realty. He needed this space. The fact it irritated the beauty queen was icing on the cake.

The brief glimpse of upturned pink lips displaying her disappointment, however, did not satisfy him. For a brief moment, a twinge of guilt hit him. Stephen did not, by nature, set out to be cruel to women—just women who threatened his niece. Is this what parenting did to a person? Made them vengeful and spiteful? Stephen refused to believe her story about not selling the dress to Kimber. Anyone could have made the sale.

The sound of the gravel crushed beneath the tires of his brother’s SUV reminded him of the crushing of Lexi’s dreams. Since last seeing her, he couldn’t get her face out of his mind. Sad or mad, the woman was beautiful. He wondered what a happy smile looked like on her, or better yet—a satisfied smile after being thoroughly made love to.

“Are you smiling because we’re going to the fair?”

The sound of his brother’s voice broke Stephen out of his daze. In the passenger’s seat, he glanced over to his left at Nate behind the wheel and offered a lopsided grin. “Of course.” Stephen cast a glance toward the backseat, where the girls sat wearing matching Atlanta Braves jerseys. He wanted to be able to peer over heads at the small fair and locate any of them if they got separated. “I’m ready to get on some rides and eat some food. How about you, ladies?”

“I’m ready for my crown,” Philly called with a bright smile from her booster seat. Her soft brown hair, pulled back into one ponytail by his own two hands, bobbed back and forth. It had taken him six tries, but finally Stephen had gotten the ponytail to stay.

Nate groaned and banged his head against the headrest. “Did you remember to bring your caboodle?”

“Her what?”

“Her caboodle,” Nate replied. “The pink case holding all of her makeup—”

“Makeup?” Stephen choked as they parked. Three of the four doors opened while he remained firmly in his seat. “What are you talking about?”

“The Miss Peach Blossom contest?” Nate said with a slow mocking tone before he stepped out from the car. “Where has your mind been all week? It’s the only thing Philly’s been talking about.”

How did parents keep up with two children? What an ass he’d been. And again, he placed the blame on Lexi. If she hadn’t sold the dress to Kimber, he would be able to focus on everyone.

“I didn’t realize this contest included makeup. Kimber and I already spoke about growing up so fast, and now you want to put makeup on the baby?”

Someone opened his passenger door and Philly stood in front of him with her hands on her hips, glaring up at him. “I am not a baby!”

He reached out and, like a child, Philly eagerly climbed into his arms. “Sure you’re not a baby.” She smelled like one—baby lotion from the pink bottle, to be exact.

“It’s just make-believe, Uncle Stephen,” Kimber said, patting Philly on the back. “Soap and elbow grease.”

“I don’t like the idea.”

* * *

Inside the walls of the county fair, a wave of screams shattered the air. Metal wheels screeched through the daylight, and the shadows of the fast-flying cars zipped through the air and circled into a loop with another wave of screams.

Nate rolled his neck around. “Can we go inside the gates now?”

“Yeah, everyone is staring at us.” Kimber popped her pink bubble gum against her back teeth while she looked up from her turquoise cell phone.

Stephen’s brows furrowed together. He was sure he’d taken away a phone earlier this week that was pink and then purple. Was he going crazy?

“Marvin is waiting by the corn-dog stand,” Kimber informed them.

Stephen didn’t give a flying flip where Marvin was. Instead of saying something rude, he tightened his hold on Philly and tightened his smile. “Well if he’s waiting...” he said sarcastically.

“Uncle Stephen,” Kimber said in a warning voice. “You promised.”

“Yeah, Uncle Stephen,” Nate mocked with a wink, “you promised.”

He couldn’t make any guarantees. Maybe since he’d done one not-so-nice deed today, his time at the fair could be tolerable.

Whatever his mood had been prior to walking through the gates of the county fair, it dissipated the minute he entered. He inhaled deeply and a nostalgic smile spread across his face. It was something about the smells of the fair. Smells of animals, hay, popcorn, elephant ears and other fried inventions mixed throughout the breezy air.

The weather was unusually cool for this time of year. Philly insisted on getting a candy apple before seeing her favorite part of the fair, the animals. The barns were filled with pigs, llamas, goats and other animals that kids could feed by hand for only a quarter’s worth of carrots. Stephen fed the zebra caged in the corner, while Kimber pretended not to be interested but held control over the plastic Baggie of veggies.

Stephen let the five-year-old dictate where they would go for the late afternoon. Gnats clung to the humid Southern air. Employees taunted fair patrons, challenging them to win prizes. Not able to resist his basketball skills being tested, Stephen played a few rounds and won an oversize Scooby-Doo dog. Kimber’s friend, Marvin, met up with them. The tall, lanky boy, with his thick Coke-bottle glasses and a mouth full of metal braces, smiled. Kimber is too good for him, he thought defensively. But on the positive note, a guy like him would be easy to intimidate, which he had to do the few times Marvin and Kimber held hands.

Ah, to be young and in like. Him being “so old,” as Kimber called him, he barely remembered the days when he looked forward to spending time with his high school crush. “Dang, bro,” Nate said, snapping his fingers in Stephen’s face. “You going soft on me?”

“What?” Stephen said, checking his phone as it buzzed. He chalked up Mr. Foxx’s all-caps message to unfamiliarity with electronic mail. The keys would be delivered to the house in the morning.

“Whatever.” Nate nodded. “What’s got you smiling, then?”