The Faire (Harrow Faire #5) - Kathryn Ann Kingsley Page 0,79

He kissed her temple.

She felt her face go warm and shooed him away from her a step. “Knock it off.”

“Are you ever going to stop pretending that you dislike my roguishness?” He slung his arm around her waist as they walked together. “Or is it part of the fun for you?”

“Part of the fun, I think.” They were getting close to the entrance to the big top. She looked up at the arching striped fabric and the wires with all the flags and the lightbulbs, just starting to be visible in the sunset.

She stopped and turned to face him. “Simon?”

“Yes’m?”

She ran her fingers along the lapels of his suit. She found herself examining his tie. “I love you. I know you can’t say it back to me. I don’t ever expect you to. I wanted to tell you that…it’s okay. That I’m happy like this. That if this is all you ever were to me—if this is all we could have together—it is still worth more than anything I’ve ever had before.”

He crooked a finger under her chin. The sunlight shone off his mismatched sunglasses. “You could be happy for the rest of eternity being with a man who did not love you—nor wished to? Even when you mourn the loss of the part of me that did, and could, say those words to you?”

“I know I’m an idiot. But…yeah. I think so.”

“Why?”

“Because my life with part of Simon Waite is better than my life with none of him.”

He smiled at her, devoid of his usual mania. It was a tender expression. Warm, and sweet. He leaned down and kissed her. When he broke away, he rested his forehead against hers. “I suppose I should be glad you aren’t wearing that red lipstick of yours,” he muttered, a fiendish smile reappearing on his face.

She smacked him in the side. So much for a romantic moment. “Come on, stupid.” When she went to leave, he caught her wrist and pulled her back to him. He kissed her again. This time it was as if something had changed. It felt like how he kissed her on the landing of the observation tower, when they thought they would never see each other again.

Like he was trying to say something with a gesture instead of with words.

Like he was whispering something to her as he cradled her head in his hand. When he finally parted from her, she was breathless, and she could see that his eyes were shut behind his glasses. They stayed silent for a long moment.

Finally, Simon broke it. “On second thought, I’m rather sad you aren’t wearing your lipstick. Oh! I’ve heard tell from Aaron of a game that involves women and multi-colored lipstick. Something about seeing how far they can get it down on a gentleman’s—”

She smacked him hard in the chest and turned toward the tent. “I repeat. Come on, stupid.”

He cackled behind her and followed her inside.

There was no turning back.

There was no running away.

As her eyes adjusted to the inside of the tent, she saw a dozen or so people gathered on the sand in the center ring. And she knew them all. They were Family.

And there, standing tallest among the bunch, was Ringmaster. “Hello, Cora.”

“Turk.” She walked down the stairs toward the ring and through the open gate into the sand.

Ringmaster stood there in his full regalia. He had a bullwhip on his hip—but it wasn’t in his hand, at least. He watched her, features stern but not angry.

Cora fought the urge to turn and find somewhere to hide.

No. She was done with all of that.

This place was her home, too.

She lifted her chin. Squared her shoulders. And tried to look braver than she felt. “Shall we begin?”

19

Cora looked around the circle of sand. There should have been twenty-one of them there. Well, physically present and accounted for, at any rate. She still wasn’t sure if Harrow Faire counted as an individual, even if it did have a boxcar and was trying very hard.

Twenty-one.

But there were only seventeen.

Clown was dead. So was Ludwig. But that should have only left them with nineteen. Two were missing. Amanda…and Jack.

“Simon…?” She turned slowly to the Puppeteer. “Where are Jack and Amanda? What did you do to them?”

He pointed at himself. “Who, me? Why! I’m insulted.” He huffed and folded his arms. “If Jack doesn’t want to show his face and betray the Family he claims to love, that’s not my fault. And why pester me with questions about