Damaged Mate

9

I had a billion questions I wanted to ask Dad, especially those involving some apparent beef he had with Clyde. But it was hard enough convincing him to let me go to this autumn festival thing, and the last thing I wanted to do was get dumped with more unexplainable weird stuff. So, for now, I filed the questions away, giving him a quick hug and kiss before heading back outside and flashing Aiden a thumbs up.

The park looked completely decked-out once we finally found a parking spot. Part of me wondered if we should’ve just left the truck at Dad’s place, but Aiden insisted he’d rather have it close by.

“The Harvest Festival tends to go on pretty late,” he explained as I unbuckled. “I want to make sure we walk as little as possible.”

“Folks really are paranoid about the animals around here, huh?” I asked.

Aiden just nodded, looking a bit nervous as he closed the driver’s side door.

The park looked fantastic. Festive lights had been strung up between every tree and branch, giving off a cozy feel as the sky turned dusk. A few dozen stands had been put together, featuring some typical carnival games and a few food options, and I even saw someone showcasing pumpkins bigger than my head. In the center was this giant collection of hay, safely roped off and given padded ground so kids could scramble up and down the sides without their parents worrying too much. And the smells—all manner of fried goods and pumpkin spices filled the air, really giving off the feeling of autumn.

“Like I said,” Aiden began sheepishly, “it’s more so set up for kids, so there might not be much for us to do.”

“You saying you’re not a kid at heart?” I asked.

God, but that smile of Aiden’s was to die for. “Alright, alright. So, what do you wanna do first?”

What didn’t I want to do? The most Mom and I ever did for fall was drink pumpkin spice lattes and find some on-sale summer clothes. I dragged Aiden to practically every stall imaginable, trying to sample every bit of cuisine while happily sitting at the kid-sized tables to do some arts and crafts. One of the farmers had been nice enough to donate a whole wagon-full of small gourds, and I was not going to miss the opportunity to paint one.

“Hey, Aiden, check it out.” I held my design up for him to see, showcasing my poor attempt at painting his truck. “I told you we could’ve left yours at my dad’s place.”

“You got a tiny license to drive that?” Aiden teased.

Grinning like an i***t, I slid a rectangular slip of paper his way. “Here you go, officer. I think you’ll find everything’s up to date.”

Aiden broke out into a fit of snickers. “Oh my God, you’re such a dork. That’s amazing.”

A warm tinge crossed my face as I took a peek at his pumpkin design. He’d painted the face a gradient of cool colors, scaling from purple to a deep blue that mimicked the night sky. The faint outline of trees could be seen cresting a series of mountains, and silhouetted before a full moon was a wolf howling.

“Speaking of amazing,” I gasped softly.

Aiden smiled sheepishly, putting the final touches on the moon before setting his white-tipped paint brush to the side. “It’s not my best work.”

“Uh, it’s the best work I’ve seen so far,” I insisted. “That’s so unfair. You’re physically gifted and have a talent for art?”

Aiden let out a laugh, pushing the small pumpkin my way. “Well, if you like it so much, why not hang onto it? Consider it a ‘welcome to Ayersville’ present.”

“Ooh, from the mayor’s son himself?” I smiled warmly, taking the gourd into the palm of both hands. “Thanks, Aiden. It means a lot to me that you’d give me this.”

Holy moly, was this happening? Barely here a month and was already falling hard for this guy I barely knew. Aiden was a nice breath of fresh air compared to the guys back home, though, someone who was honest with himself and his feelings. Sure, there was some… obvious tension with Clyde, but nobody was perfect. And, honestly, if he wasn’t going to like someone, I wouldn’t blame him for picking Clyde.

Still… I couldn’t get over how hostile Clyde had become once he figured out I was a Harvey.

“Hey, Aria?” Aiden’s brow furrowed slightly as I snapped back. “You hear what I said?”

I blinked, the flush across my face growing hotter. “O-oh, no, sorry. Say it again?”

He gave me a bemused grin. “I asked if you wanted to meet the mayor. I probably should check in with him and Ma, but if that’s a bit weird…”

“No, that’s fine!” I insisted. “I’ve always wanted to meet a political figure.” Crap, was I really already meeting his parents? Were things moving too fast? He hadn’t even officially asked me out!

I almost missed Aiden offering his hand to me, which I happily accepted. He led me through the park until we reached a table full of fragrant-smelling pies and eager-looking faces, both from the bakers themselves and the kids ready to take a slice. A well-dressed man and woman were walking down the rows with ribbons in hand, inspecting the entries and delicately picking up small samples to taste. Same blond hair, same fair-colored skin—these two were definitely Aiden’s parents.