I looked at her, my eyes blurry with happiness. Yep. Not okay. Kind of okay. Feel okay. But not okay. Isn’t it wonderful? I just smiled at their wide-eyed expressions.

“K.C.?”

And then my smile faded.

I halted, seeing my mother standing a few feet away, carrying a tray of pies.

She wore a wispy, lavender summer dress and high heels, looking absolutely pristine with her hair curled and tied back in a low ponytail. Suddenly I was very aware of every inch of my sweaty skin.

I saw her eyes sweep up and down the length of me, taking in my appearance, and then her eyes narrowed like bullets. She didn’t say anything before she turned and walked away, back into the banquet hall.

I stood there, looking after her, trying to figure out what was going through her head. Did she really hate me so much?

Madoc and Adam had walked ahead, but I turned to Fallon and Shane at my side. “I don’t look inappropriate, do I?” I asked.

The corner of Fallon’s mouth turned up. “How do you feel?”

I looked down, amusement tickling my face. I wasn’t wearing anything special, but it was skimpy, slightly see-through with the slits on my back, and suggestive. The three terrible S’s.

“Loud,” I confessed. “I feel loud. Like everyone can hear me.”

“But comfortable?” she pressed.

I nodded. Yeah.

“Then that’s good enough,” she shot back. “You make your own rules, Juliet. Girls dress for others. Women dress for themselves.”

And those were the truest words I’d heard in a long time.

I liked being aware of my body.

“So, what’s it going to be?” Shane ran her fingers through her hair, flopping it to one side. “The Gravitron, the Tilt-A-Whirl, or the Kamikaze?”

I looked around and spotted a haunted fun house. My guilty pleasure.

“That.” I pointed to the small warehouse with a huge blowup dragon seated at the front entrance with its mouth open. It was a staple every year that I’d been here. You walk into the dragon’s breath and into the warehouse/converted fun house for the regular kind of carnival fare.

I led the way, Shane and Fallon giggling behind me as Adam and Madoc stayed behind with the water gun game.

We left the bright smells and sounds of the carnival, and I gasped at gusts of wind hitting my body as we stepped through the dragon’s mouth. Fans blew from several directions, cooling the light layer of sweat on my legs, stomach, and arms, and the fog machine rolled soft clouds around my feet.

Looking around, I inhaled the darkness, taking in the hot smell of dirt and depth. Kind of like being in a basement.

Juice from the Popsicle dripped on my hand, and I blinked, looking down and licking the sweet red stickiness from my hand.

The ceiling gave way, rising, and we entered the fun house.

Veering through the maze of clear plastic panels, I bumped into walls I didn’t see and laughed through turns I had to blindly hold my hand out to make sure were there. Sucking on my Popsicle, I wobbled across the bridge, through the spinning barrel, and across the plank with the neon carnival masks zooming past. My equilibrium was lost, and I bit my lip to stifle my laughter. I liked not knowing which direction to turn or which way was up.

My eyes moved everywhere, taking in all the sights, and I took my time, strolling into the haunted house part of the tour.

Biting off a piece of my Popsicle, I stepped up to the different displays around the large room. The lights cast a soft glow, and the little playhouses decorated with bare trees, gargoyles, and zombies almost made it feel like Halloween.

Almost. If not for the heat.

I heard laughter in the distance and twisted my head away from the cemetery scene to see that I was alone.

I lowered the Popsicle, licking my lips and darting my eyes all around me. Where were Shane and Fallon? The fun house hadn’t been busy. It never was, but …

I felt my heartbeat pounding harder, and my senses kicked into high gear. It was dark in here, I was alone, and …

Yeah. I circled the corner and climbed the stairs. If I remembered correctly, there was a slide that took you to the bottom level and exit.

Running up the spiral staircase, I speed-walked past the row of carnival mirrors, kicking up dust and dirt with my flip-flops as I jetted for the tunnel slide leading back to the outside.

But I didn’t make it.

Someone snaked an arm around my waist, and I screamed as he growled in my ear, “Did you think”—his hot breath scorched my skin—“that I was kidding when I said that there was no stopping, Juliet?”

Jax.

His hard chest pressed against my back, and I closed my eyes, feeling safe and threatened at the same time.

My heart thundered against my sternum, and my chest burned. “What do you think you’re doing?” I asked, pinching the Popsicle stick between my fingers, not caring that the juice was spilling down.

He ran his tongue from the bottom of my neck up to my ear and caught my lobe in his teeth. “I don’t know.” He sounded playful. “Do you want me to stop?”

I twisted my head, and the air between our lips charged with heat before he lifted his head, threaded his fingers through my hair, and covered my mouth with his. Cinnamon touched my tongue, and I pressed my lips into his, darting my tongue out to lick him.

Then his mouth left mine, and I blinked as he dropped to his knees, reached around to unfasten my shorts, and yanked them down, underwear and all, then sank his teeth into my flesh.

“Jax!” I yelped.