“Dude. She kissed another guy.”
“Didn’t she try to explain?”
Cade shifted positions on the riser. “Well, yeah, but?—”
“Then quit being a jerk. Man up, apologize. She’s a good woman—doing you a favor by being in this circus in the first place, right?”
True. Cade cleared his throat, watched as two dogs jumped through hoops. Off to one side, another set of poodles climbed a ladder and caught a ball from the top of a stand. “It’s not that simple.”
“Swallowing one’s pride never is.” Linc clapped him on the back—hard. “Choke it down with that peanut and do the right thing.”
“It’s complicated.”
“You already said that. Less talk, more action. That’s what women want.”
“Again, how would you—” Cade bit back his own protest at Linc’s growl. “Never mind.”
“Look, you obviously like her. So, as I said…” Linc shoved the nearly empty bag of peanuts against Cade’s chest. “Go make it right. Maybe she was actually telling you the truth all along.”
Cade shook his head. “Right, like the Mafia isactuallyafter her? And sheactuallylegally married someone under duress and sheactuallylikes me instead of her husband, even though I personally witnessed her insulting Magnolia Days and kissing said husband?”
“Actually…” Linc paused. “Yeah.”
It was hard for Cade to wrap his mind around that possibility, even harder to hope for it. After all, hadn’t he and Rosalyn agreed their timing was always awful? What made this any different?
Owen, in full ringmaster gear, swung his mic like a rock star to the applause of the crowd. “Next up, our very own world-famous aerialist—Rosalyn Dupree!”
His chest tightened as he waited for Rosalyn to take the ring. Longed for—and dreaded—seeing her. But maybe Linc was right. Maybe Cade had let his past grievances keep him from hearing Rosalyn out, believing her. Sure, it looked bad—but what if shewastelling the truth?
What if he was telling the wrong person no this time?
Owen turned toward the backstage area, clearing his throat before dragging her name out again. “Rosalyn Duuupreeee!”
Where was she? She wouldn’t miss a cue, would she?
Linc frowned. “Better go find her.”
Cade was already standing before Linc’s suggestion. “On it. And don’t get a big head that I’m listening to you.”
His own head had been big enough for the both of them—one of the many things he needed to remedy when he found Rosalyn.
* * *
She’d missed her cue. And now Blaine stood between her and the back entrance into the circus tent.
Holding another blasted bouquet of flowers.
Rosalyn fought back panic. She had yet to talk to Cade or get anything settled between them. What if he thought she was sabotaging the show on purpose?
“Blaine, I’m late.” She tried for the second time to push past him, but he sidestepped her, eyes wide and not a little affected. Alcohol? He’d never been a big drinker, but then again—she clearly didn’t know him well.
“Come on. Take them.” He shoved the flowers at her and she automatically caught them.
What in the world was he up to? Had he actually fallen in love with her? Was this a stalker move?
She glanced over her shoulder, but short of scaling a fence or climbing a tree, there weren’t a lot of places to skirt around him. The wind whistled through the oak branches overhead, the moon high and bright. This end of the parking lot behind the tent was dim and vacant, except for one porta-potty meant for the circus performers.
Unfortunately, none of the other performers were in sight, since the show had already started. Even now, she could hear Owen calling her name over the speakers.
