“Where should we eat?” I say as I turn down Main Street.

He shrugs. “Someplace that’s not too fancy.”

“And somewhere affordable,” I add.

“Yes.” He nods. “Affordable is good.”

We cruise past the grassy park in the center of the town square and find it bustling with people who are milling around a large Ferris wheel. Happy music plays from speakers perched on the tall park lampposts while street vendors and performers show off their goods and talents under colorful tents and canopies.

A large banner strung across the grassy town square reads COPPER SPRINGS 32ND ANNUAL CONFETTI CARNIVAL.

A smile curls up my mouth. I almost forgot about the Confetti Carnival. Once a year, the local vendors put on this merry festivity as an excuse to show off their latest merchandise and promote their businesses. They put on carnival games, petting zoos, and concerts. They also give away free things. Like food.

“You know what’s better than affordable?” I say, finding a parking spot at the end of the street.

“What’s that?”

I grin at him. “Free.”

He looks back at the carnival—where vendors are handing out free bags of popcorn, complimentary soft pretzels, and unlimited candy samples—and brandishes his dimple. “Brilliant idea.”

The first place we head is the pretzel cart followed by the popcorn machine. Daren scarfs two bags of popcorn down before I even finish one. I’m not really one to judge, though, with my mouth stuffed with pretzel and both my fists filled with junk food. Daren washes down his two bags of popcorn with a giant pretzel, which he eats in three big bites. I freeze with a Red Vine halfway to my mouth and stare at him.

Damn. Looks like Daren was just as starving as me.

Next, we head to the cotton candy cart and wait in line. Above hang two confetti cannons, which will go off at midnight to mark the end of the Confetti Carnival. It’s like colorful snow, falling on the town in the midst of summer. I always loved the confetti snow.

Across the park, two girls with ample cleavage on display catch Daren’s eye and smile. They can’t tell he’s handcuffed to me because the cart is blocking our wrists but, based on the come hither looks on both their faces, I doubt a handcuffed third party would be any kind of deterrence.

I glance at Daren and watch as he gives them a little smile and a chin nod. Their faces brighten and one of them licks her lips while the other wiggles her eyebrows.

Wow.

I tilt my head. “More friends of yours?”

Daren looks at me and the cocky smile is quickly replaced with a look of indifference. “It’s a small town. Everybody knows everybody.”

I nod. “Right.”

I bet not everybody “knows” those girls the way Daren Ackwood does.

“Next!” calls the cotton candy man with a smile.

As we step up to the cart, I recognize him as Charles Abernathy, one of my father’s old buddies.

He smiles at us. “Hello, Daren. Good to see you.”

“You too, Mr. Abernathy.” Daren nods.

“It’s a shame about your dad. How’s he doing?” he asks in a serious tone. “Is he still up at county—”

“I haven’t spoken to my dad so I have no idea how he’s doing,” Daren says. The sharpness in his expression is a stark contrast to the smooth cockiness he was wearing just a moment ago. He was like this with the lawyer yesterday, too. Tense and closed off about his dad.

I slide my eyes to him, wondering what the deal is with his father.

Daren slips on another casual grin. “We’ll take two cotton candies, please.”

Mr. Abernathy nods sympathetically. As he reaches for a paper cone, his eyes bounce off me and he looks back.

“Kayla Turner?” His face instantly lights up. “Is that you?”

I smile broadly. “Hi, Mr. Abernathy. How are you?”

“Well I’m doing wonderful now that I’ve seen you. It’s been, what… five years? And now you’re all grown up and just as pretty as your mother.” He sighs and shakes his head sadly. “I’m so sorry about your father. He was a great man and will be deeply missed.”

His words are genuine and laced in mourning. I try not to let that upset me as I nod. But the bitterness seeps through like an oozing wound nonetheless.

Mr. Abernathy twirls two paper cones around inside the cotton candy machine until he’s formed identical balls of fluff.

He hands them to us merrily. “You two take care.”

We walk away with two pink clouds of happy spun around paper cones. Finding a shady spot beneath the tall oak tree in the center of the square, we try not to draw attention to our handcuffed wrists while we eat.

“This is the best lunch I’ve ever had,” he says, shoving the last of his pretzel into his mouth.

“I know,” I say over a mouthful of popcorn.

Two middle-aged women walk past us with looks of confusion. I glance over our appearance and try to see us through their eyes.

We have dirt on our faces, candy in our mouths, and metal restraints around our wrists as we stand in a corner of the park.

We look like two jacked-up toddlers in time-out.

“Okay. Ick. I’m done.” I hand Daren the rest of my cotton candy, my stomach now feeling grossly full. My nutritious lunch consisted of salted butter fluff and colored sugar fluff. I totally wouldn’t blame my heart if it just decided to quit its job.

Daren finishes off the rest of my cotton candy and nods to a nearby bench. “Want to sit?”

We sit down and watch Mr. Abernathy hand out more cotton candy for a moment before I turn to Daren. “So what’s the deal with your dad?”

He lifts an eyebrow. “What?”

I take a Red Vine from his hand and bite into it. “Your dad. Why do you get weird when people bring him up?”

He gives me a crooked smile. “Did Lana not fill you in on all things Luke Ackwood?”

“Apparently not.” I swallow my bite.

He scratches his cheek. “Did she tell you about my dad’s tendency to drink like a fish?”

I hesitate, feeling guilty for listening to gossip about Daren’s family. I never really gave it much thought before, but listening to gossip is an ugly thing to do. “She might have mentioned something about that.”

“She’s a reliable source, that one.”

I shake my head. “You don’t have to tell me. I shouldn’t have asked in the first place. That was nosey of me. God. I’m sorry.”

“No. It actually might be nice to get to tell someone the truth. Everyone in town has just always known what was going on so I rarely have a chance to tell the story.” He looks away and even though his lopsided smile stays in place, his inhale is strained. “My dad is in jail for an aggravated DUI. He got hammered, went driving, and nearly killed a guy named Conner Allen last year. So he’s been doing time at county for the past eight months.”

I sit frozen with the Red Vine in my hand. “Whoa.”

He laughs quietly. “Whoa is a good response.”

“That’s heavy, Daren,” I say. “I’m sorry.”

He shrugs and looks up at the Ferris wheel. “No one died so it wasn’t as bad as it could have been.”

“Yeah, but still.” I chew off another bite of the Red Vine and stare out at the townspeople in the park. A couple across the way eye Daren and mumble to each other, which reminds me of the ladies at the cafe this morning. “Is that why people sometimes look at you and whisper?”

He sighs. “That and the fact that my harlot mom lured the good preacher into her bed of sin seven years ago.”

I make a face. “People still whisper about that?”

“You’d be surprised how eternal some gossip can be. What about you?” He turns to me. “Last night, Eddie mentioned that something happened with your mom. Any scandalous gossip there?”

“Oh.” My heart starts to pound as I deliberate on what to say. “My mom, uh…” I shift my weight. “She passed away. A few months ago.”

His lips part. “Oh God. I’m sorry. I—I didn’t know.”

I swallow. “It’s okay. No one did. She was—she was sick for a long time.” I quickly add, “Not sick like my dad, but just… she wasn’t well.”