Page 112 of Falling Back to You

“You know that girl is not a morning person. She’d sleep until damn near noon if we let her.”

Dial tilted her head to either side, trying to release the lingering tension in her neck muscles. “What do you have planned today?”

“I don’t know. What do we have planned? Because I’m doing whatever you’re doing.”

She weighed her options. “There’s that traveling circus that came to town. Maple really wanted to go.”

“I’m down.”

Dial’s phone rang, and she pulled it from the oversized robe pocket. Shelton’s name flashed across the screen before she declined the call.

“Why is he calling you?”

“Probably looking for another date.”

“You better let him down easy, or I’ma let him down hard.”

“I know you’re not jealous of Shelton Krause.” She tugged on the cords dangling from the waistband of my shorts.

“I’m jealous of any man who’s had your time or attention.” I was being clingy, but I’d missed the opportunity to touch her whenever the mood struck, and I was going to take advantage of the permission granted to overdose on the feel of her smooth skin against mine. “I love you, Dial, like deep. Now let me suck on that clit and then I’ll make you a proper breakfast.”

Dial dropped her robe as I took a seat at the head of the kitchen table. She hopped on top, hooking her knees over my shoulders.

The best part of waking up was sucking Dial’s pussy like a ripe, juicy peach.

The Howling Bazaar was a traveling circus that found its way to Hume every few years. You’d go to sleep on a Thursday, and come Friday morning tents were pitched and the empty field not too far from Figs and Twine was alive with activity. They’d been doing this since I was a kid, and it looked like there were no plans to stop. The Bazaar was popular because small towns were short on surprises.

Inside the purple-and-white-striped tent, we grabbed seats in the bleachers. Maple was bouncing her legs, unable to contain her excitement. I was just as impressed watching the Catapulting Chambers do flips, lifts, and jumps that seemed impossible for a human body to perform. There was no way my gargantuan frame would be able to recreate any of that shit.

One glance at Dial and I could tell that she and Maple would be attempting every twist and turn later today. Leaning in, I whispered, “Don’t even think about it.”

“I could absolutely do that,” she said, never taking her eyes off the death-defying feats in the center of the tent.

After the flips came the clowns, who teased the audience. One clown tossed flying discs into the crowd. When one soared toward me, all I had to do was raise my hand and claim it. My section erupted into cheers at my successful catch.

Maple jumped out of her seat with a squeal. “Daddy, whoa!” I handed over the purple disc to my little girl, and she beamed from ear to ear.

“Nice catch.” Dial patted my knee.

“I’m a man of many talents.”

Following the main show, we stretched our legs by walking around the fairground, stopping occasionally to play a game. My favorite was the water gun race, which Dial beat me at by filling her balloon the fastest. She was the queen of carnival games, always coming out on top in ring toss and the knock-’em-down attractions.

Games led to hunger, and we found a bench and enjoyed circus food: deep-fried corn, alligator bites, and fried Oreos.

“I think I wanna join the circus. It seems like fun.” Maple popped an alligator nugget into her mouth.

“What would your special talent be?” Dial asked.

“I can climb really fast. Maybe that. What about you?”

“Blind ax throwing or something.”

“Daddy?”

“Horse tricks,” I replied.

“We could be our own little circus. With Auntie Fancy singing and Uncle Eddy chopping wood.” Maple was giddy at the thought.