A Fair to Remember Read online

  A Fair to Remember

  by

  Stacey Joy Netzel

  Welcome to Redemption Series, Book 2:

  Reformed gang member Wes Carter feels Redemption, Wisconsin, is just the place to relocate his financial business for reasons more than just the name. He’s ready for a nice, quiet life in small town USA. Tara Russell has decided it’s time to add some excitement to her life and get a little wild—no matter how uncomfortable it makes her or her overprotective family. They meet at the local fair one warm summer night and discover opposites attract for all the right reasons. Add a dash of Sugar in the form of an incorrigible Great Dane, and it’s destined to be A Fair To Remember.

  Amazon Author Page: Amazon.com

  Website and Blog: http://www.StaceyJoyNetzel.com

  Dedication

  ~~~

  This one, always and forever, to Dulcie.

  Chapter 1

  There was no such thing as love at first sight, but Tara Russell needed someone to explain that to Sugar. Her arm was ready to detach from its socket as her brother’s nine-month-old, fawn-colored Great Dane pulled her along the fairway, intent on her latest infatuation. So far, Tara had managed to keep Sugar from attacking the man as he ambled past the games and rides with their flashing lights and cajoling carnies, but her strength was waning.

  Truth be told, so was her will. Her gaze locked on the backside of the man about ten yards ahead of them. Sugar’s target was easily the sexiest guy Tara had seen in a long time, and believe you me, she’d been looking. Unfortunately, the small town of Redemption, Wisconsin, didn’t provide its women with much to choose from—in her opinion, anyway.

  But this guy…mmm. The summer sun picked up a suggestion of auburn highlights on the top, but the shorter sides were dark brown. A faint shadow of a beard darkened his jaw, softening his chiseled profile and enhancing his rugged appeal. She hadn’t caught the color of his eyes, though he’d glanced in her general direction a time or two.

  Before she started drooling, she forced herself to acknowledge the most intriguing thing about him: his black suit that fit his six-foot, nicely built body like it was tailored especially for him. Wait a second. Intriguing? No. A shake of her head made her long ponytail swish against her back. Off-putting, that’s the word she meant.

  Because, really, who wore a suit to a fair in this heat? Who wore a suit to a fair, period? She started imagining likely explanations and came up with lawyer…and…um…nope, that was it. Bummer. Imagine trying to bring a Suit home to her Hog-loving family? Bad enough she didn’t fit the Russell mold, they might disown her if she fell for some uptight, blood-sucking, sexy—

  Geez, wasn’t he roasting in all that material? Because just looking at him made her hot. Sweat dampened her skin, making her tank top cling even more with the late afternoon temperature hovering close to eighty.

  Then again, holding Sugar back was no walk in the park.

  Tara plucked at the black material of her top and squinted at the sky through her sunglasses, wishing there were at least a hint of a breeze to cool her sticky skin. Thank heavens she’d kept her cutoffs on instead of changing into jeans.

  Sugar switched direction, throwing Tara off balance in her sandals and giving the dog the upper hand with her forward momentum. The dog’s entire body wagged along with her tail as she made a beeline for Tom Hayden, one of her brother’s buddies. A few of the other guys from her brother’s crowd were leaning against their Harley’s, drinking beer and hanging out, dressed in their riding gear.

  “Heads up,” Tara called, trying to regain control. As if she’d ever really had it.

  To Sugar’s delight, Tom grasped either side of the exuberant dog’s neck and gave her a rough greeting, but his gaze swept the length of Tara. “Damn, girl. What got into you?”

  Tara felt her cheeks flush and tried to laugh his comment off. “Just dressing the part for the tattoo booth. Can you imagine me helping out in my usual clothes?”

  Tom snorted and a couple of the guys chuckled. Usual for Tara was the opposite of the skin tight, scooped neck tank top with metal-ringed holes of different sizes dotting her torso and back. She’d added a loose chain belt to her low, short cutoffs that made clinking noises as she walked, the ends dangling down past her right hip to bump her thigh with each step. Nothing she wore even remotely resembled her business attire as a real estate agent.

  One of the guys made a borderline vulgar side comment to another and Tom turned to glare at him. “Charlie’s little sis, man, knock it off.”

  Tara rolled her eyes. “I don’t need a stand in for Charlie, Tom. Allow me a little freedom.”

  “Sorry—I’m just used to backing Charlie up.”

  “Well stop.”

  “Okay.” His gazed dropped from the extra makeup she wore to the tattoos on her arms. “If I didn’t know you better, I’d swear those were real. Your mom does an awesome job, even on the fake ones.”

  “She is an artist—and the bonus is, they’re pain free.”

  To complete the costume, her mother had air brushed tattoos of barbed wire around her right upper arm, an asp curled around a sword on her left, a rose on the side of her neck, a small shooting star on the inside of her left wrist, and last, but not least, a heart encircled with thorns on her ankle. Together they’d done a good job of transforming Tara into a biker chick ready for a walk on the wild side.

  Tara’s gaze skimmed their bikes and leather chaps. “You guys heading out for a ride or on your way back?”

  “We’re headed out in a little bit, but we’ll be back later tonight for the band. You going?”

  Tara shrugged. “Not sure yet.”

  Having licked all the hands she could reach, Sugar tugged on the leash, pulling back toward the thick of the crowd. Tara grinned at Tom. “I guess it’s time to go—maybe I’ll see you there.”

  A few steps later, Tara heard her name over the noise, and turned to see Lauren Frazier waving from the frozen custard stand with her little girl in the stroller next to her. Grabbing a firm hold on Sugar’s leash, she approached cautiously, but with a genuine smile.

  “Hey, Lauren, I’ve been meaning to stop in for a trim.”

  Lauren sighed with mock disgust. “Some day you’re going to let me do more than just take a half inch off the ends.”

  Tara shook her head; that day would be a long way off. But now Lauren was eyeing her with raised brows. “You celebrating Halloween in July this year?”

  “What?” Tara asked.

  Lauren grinned. “Between the Haunted House I saw on the way in and your costume, I don’t know what else to think.”

  “Ha, ha, funny. I’m working the tattoo booth later. Mom asked me to display some of her work.”

  “Ah, well that makes more sense.”

  Tara suspected she needed to start expanding her horizons to avoid shocking people when she took a drastic turn. Before thoughts of her boring life took over, she looked down at cute little Emma with all her blond curls. “Hey, Emma, is Mommy getting you some ice cream?”

  “We share it.” Emma held up a bandaged hand. “Owie.”

  “I see that.” Tara glanced at Lauren. “What happened? Is she okay?”

  “Yeah, she’s fine. She burned her fingers on a lit cigarette. Some punk friend of Max’s flicked it into the backyard, and Emma grabbed it before Max could stop her.” Lauren accepted the large twist cone from the man behind the counter and handed him two singles.

  “Poor little girl. And how awful for you, too,” she said to Lauren.

  “Not being able to take her pain away was the worst part. I was such a wreck. I don’t know what I would’ve done if Caleb hadn’t been there.”

  Tara lifted a brow. “Caleb?”

/>   Before Lauren could respond, Emma whined, “Momma, I’cream, I’cream!”

  With an indulgent smile, Lauren knelt down and helped Emma grasp the cone with her unbandaged hand. “Careful, honey. Don’t drop it.” When Lauren stood back up, she pointed to a tall, auburn-haired man standing in line for a funnel cake with her ten-year-old son, Max. “Caleb.”

  Tara looked him over and found herself smiling. Nice. Almost as nice as the Suit Sugar had been following. She tilted her head, thinking he looked familiar, but she couldn’t place him. Casting Lauren a teasing grin, she asked, “Where have you been hiding him? I didn’t know you were dating anyone—”

  It suddenly dawned on Tara that the leash had gone slack. She did a quick twirl to locate Sugar and saw Emma holding out her ice cream cone. Sugar’s long tongue extended for a lick.

  “Oh, no, honey, don’t do that!” Tara exclaimed. “She can’t have—”

  At the sound of Tara’s voice, Sugar made a quick lunge and snatched the whole cone right from the little girl’s hand. She swallowed it in one mighty gulp. Oh, crap. Emma’s eyes went round, and her lower lip trembled as her eyes filled with tears.

  “Sugar,” Tara admonished in a stern voice, pulling on the leash as Emma started to cry. After they’d backed up a few steps, Tara said, “I’m sorry.”

  Tara glared at the dog and silently groaned with frustration. Her brother’s psycho dog was lactose intolerant. It was only a matter of time before that cone came back up, along with the bits of deep fried cheese curds, French fries, cotton candy, hot dog buns, elephant ears and even a piece of a corn cob that Sugar had inhaled off the ground over the past hour. She’d promised her mom a break from the airbrushing booth at seven, but now the best bet would be to get Sugar out of here. No one wanted to be around when those fireworks went off.

  Lauren crouched down and ruffled Emma’s hair. “It’s okay, baby, I’ll get us another one.”

  “Let me get it,” Tara said.

  Emma’s cries subsided. “Sassy doggie.”

  Tara whole-heartedly agreed as she reached into her pocket for some money.

  “Really, Tara, it’s no big deal,” Lauren protested.

  Tara tossed a five to the guy at the custard stand. “Actually, Charlie will pay me back, so I insist.” And it was a big deal, because now she wouldn’t get to watch the real fireworks—her favorite part of the whole fair. Well, except for elephant ears. Which she wouldn’t get either. She shot an envious glance toward Max and Caleb, who’d just reached the front of the funnel cake line.

  Reining in her disappointment, Tara leaned down toward Emma. “Sorry about that, sweetie. We’ll go now so she doesn’t try to steal the next one. I’ll see you later for that trim, Lauren—and the full scoop on that one.” She tilted her head in Caleb’s direction while backing up. Lauren laughed and waved goodbye, along with Emma.

  Tara inhaled the tantalizing scent of deep fried batter as she passed the food stand and was just annoyed enough with Sugar that she managed to wrangle her in the direction she wanted to go. At the tattoo booth, she watched her mom finish spraying pink paint over a stencil taped to a pregnant woman’s belly. When Jackie Russell carefully peeled the plastic away, Tara couldn’t help but grin at the alternating pink and blue baby feet dancing across the woman’s stretched skin.

  “Cute. Hey, Mom, how’s it going?”

  Jackie looked up from rinsing out her brush, then glanced at her watch. “You’re early.”

  Tara’s grin faded. “Yeah, well—”

  Her mother nodded toward Tara’s left arm. “That’s not wearing off, is it? Do you need me to touch it up?”

  She looked down at the artwork on her arms. “They’re fine. Besides, we’ve got a problem.”

  Her mom raised one eyebrow.

  “Sugar stole Emma Frasier’s ice cream cone.”

  “Oh, crap,” Jackie said.

  Exactly.

  “Vanilla or chocolate?”

  “I think it was a twist.” Tara frowned. “What does it matter?”

  Jackie chuckled. “Just wondering what’s coming back up.”

  Tara rolled her eyes. “Oh, it’s so much more than the cone. I’ll take her home so you and Dad can stay after you close.”

  “I hate to do that to you, but it’d probably be for the best. As busy as we’ve been, we might end up working through the fireworks, anyway.” She located the design for the kid next in line and began to prepare his skin where he wanted the faux tattoo applied. “Keep her out of the house, will you?” Jackie added.

  “Of course.” Tara pulled Sugar closer as they exited the tent. “I’ll see you tomorrow—or later if Charlie gets home in time for me to come back.”

  “I should’ve made your brother get his own place when he got that dog,” Jackie muttered.

  Tara scoffed under her breath and started in the direction of her parents’ home, just a block away from her own two-bedroom ranch. Charlie would live at home until the day he got married, and her mother not only knew it, she loved it. Another reason Tara didn’t quite fit in. Even though she’d already been twenty-six when she bought her home two years ago, her parents had seen no reason for her to move out. They’d argued that they had more than three thousand square feet and could save her all that money on a house payment.

  Though if she thought about it, that made them strange, not her. They really were the most contradictory people, tattooed Harley fanatics with an empty nest phobia. Parents were supposed to want their children to move out so they could enjoy The Good Years, not stay forevermore.

  She suspected, deep down, it had a lot to do with Annabel, but Tara couldn’t change the past. No matter what she did, or didn’t do for that matter, nothing would bring her sister back.

  Lost in thought, a hard tug on her arm nearly pulled Tara off her feet. She regained her balance with a few quick steps, but Sugar lunged again.

  This time she got free.

  Chapter 2

  Wes Carter took another bite of his hamburger and surveyed the baseball diamond in front of him as he savored the flavor of his cheap burger with ketchup and mustard. If the number of men on the far side of the field were any indication, they were planning quite the pyrotechnics display for later tonight. He might just have to hang around for that, he hadn’t watched fireworks in years.

  He’d had a feeling about this town when he’d read the business listings on the Internet—and not only because of the name. Further research revealed Redemption to be just what he was looking for.

  Well, except for the stalker with the dog.

  A wry grin lifted his lips as he scanned the immediate area. It looked like he’d finally lost her. During the few glances he’d snuck, he’d noticed her trim figure in shorts and sexy tank, with just the right amount of curves up top, and a bouncing ponytail of shiny black hair that would reach all the way down her back when set free. He loved long hair.

  But whoa, he was getting off track. Between the bikers he’d seen her chumming with, and the tatts on her arms, she appeared to walk farther on the wild side than he was comfortable with these days. Hell, she even had one on her neck…her slim, delicate, tanned neck. Wild. Maybe crazy was more like it the way she’d followed him around with that hulking monster of a dog.

  Wild and crazy, and pretty to boot…he felt a little zing nip at his pulse. Yeah, he was the crazy one now. He was done with women like that, and, yes, he knew all about them, he’d grown up with them. A twinge of pain in his back made him wince, despite the fact the sensation remained only in his head. Though the wound had healed weeks ago, it kept reminding him of all he’d left behind—the big city fast track with the crime and the gangs.

  No more looking over his shoulder, and wild women didn’t fit into the nice, quiet, stable life he planned to build in this town. No matter how pretty they were.

  “Sugar! Heel!”

  Wes started to look over his shoulder at the sound of that sharp command called out so close behind him, but he never
made it past the pitching mound. Next thing he knew, he laid face first in the grass, his hamburger smashed against his chest and a heavy weight on his back. He turned his head to the side so he could breath and something wet and warm doused his face from chin to eyebrow.

  “Ugh,” he managed, concluding pretty quick that a dog stood on his back—a large, whining, panting monster of a dog. He hunched a shoulder and wiped the slobber as best he could, but the beast did it again.

  “Oh, God, I’m sorry.”

  He twisted his head to look in the direction of the voice. Slim ankles and tanned legs registered before that side of his face got swiped. That’s it—he preferred to eat dirt.

  “I’m so sorry,” the woman continued, “she just pulled right—”

  “Get it off me,” he said into the grass.

  “What? I’m sorry, I didn’t—”

  Wes turned his head with a frustrated growl, which only excited the dog into a licking frenzy. Its massive paws dug into his shoulder blades as Wes clenched his teeth to keep its tongue out of his mouth.

  “Get. It. Off.”

  “Oh, right, sorry.” He felt her tug on the leash. “Sugar, heel.”

  He mentally rolled his eyes. Obviously, that was a useless command.

  “Sugar, come on. Here, baby. Sugar.”

  The dog went still and made a sound deep in its throat. Wes frowned when the animal did it again. That’s when it dawned on him the woman’s pleas had become urgent.

  “No, Sugar. Off. Sugar! Come!”

  That didn’t sound good. He fought to free his arms from under his body and succeeded just as the brute made a horrible retching noise and something spilled onto his back—something very liquid-y and warm that spread even as it seeped through his clothes.

  “Sugarrrrrr,” the woman groaned.

  Silence fell except for the dog’s panting.

  Wes felt his own stomach rebel. “Tell me a dog didn’t just puke on my back.”