“Are we going bowling?” he asked.
“No.”
“Movies?”
“No.”
He tapped his finger against the door and looked at where the limo had turned. A large mall stood to the right. “Are we going shopping?”
I rolled my eyes. “That’s not a good surprise for a date.”
“You’ll be shocked at how many women love shopping dates.”
“Good point.” I laughed again.
“A play?”
“No.”
“Ice skating?”
“No.”
“Good. I can’t skate.”
“Finally, something I can beat you at.”
“You can beat me at music.”
“I can’t.”
“You can.” He watched as the limo drove onto the highway. “The beach?”
“Stop guessing.”
He turned around. In a flash he wrapped me within his arms. “I will not stop guessing.”
“I thought you liked surprises?” I kissed him.
A groan left his lips.
My whole body melted.
He leaned away with a naughty grin. “Art gallery?”
“You’re hopeless.” I returned to tasting his mouth.
Moments like these, it was hard to pretend and even more difficult to remember that I was working a job.
Don’t think about that.
We arrived at the fairgrounds. Louis had informed me that we would enter through the back, since so many men would be guarding us.
The fair’s owners had approved his wishes.
We left the car.
“Hmmm.” Jean-Pierre must’ve searched for a sign as he scanned the space.
All around people wore fashions from the medieval period. Amazing garments adorned big men. Knight surcoats and aristocratic doublets. Peasant tunics and Scottish kilts. Some men had on monk robes. Most donned cloaks.
Jean-Pierre chuckled and turned to the right.
Oh God. Does he even know where we’re at?
Lovely pieces decorated the women as they strolled onto the property grounds. Gowns expanded by hoop skirts. Peasant tops stuffed in corsets. A couple wizards and sorcerers stood out from the crowd in elaborate robes and pointed hats.
I guided Jean-Pierre forward.
Two twin jugglers slung and twisted long daggers in the air.
A magician stood on top of a dusty crate. A silver and black cloak covered his body. Purple smoke rose around him.
Near the gate, five men held a chained-bear as he danced from side to side. Children watched and munched on big cops of corn.
“Welcome!” A greasy-smudged man said as he stood outside of the gate. A fat rat sat on his shoulder. Ragged medieval clothes dangled around him as if he was a beggar of that time. A long bone earring dangled from his ear. He raised his hands into the air. “Watch the noble fighters from all across the world!”
Jean-Pierre stopped us and parted his lips.
No words came out.
Fuck. I don’t know if that is amused shock or complete dismay.
The man at the gate continued, “Watch them display their valor during the Crown and Court tournaments!”
Jean-Pierre’s mouth formed into a wild smile.
A loud, deep laugh fled his lips.
Smiling, I touched my chest. “So…?”
His face brightened as he looked from his left to his right and then back to me. “I still don’t know what this is, but I fucking love it!”
“Yes!” I punched in the air. “Glad I didn’t screw this up.”
“You could never disappoint me, Eden, but damn if you haven’t now raised the bar. You’ve placed me into a different world. What the hell is this place? And how long can we stay here?”
Blushing, I gestured around us. “So, it’s a Medieval Fair. We can stay here as long as you like. If you’re hungry I have the chef prepping over by the—”
“No. Let’s check this all out.” He grabbed my hand and took control, hurrying us through the gate. “How long have they been doing this?”
“It’s a yearly thing.”
“Then, we’ll go every year.”
Say what now?
I hurried with him, not really sure how to respond to that statement. Besides the fair was like a living body, breathing and moving arounds us. It was hard to catch my breath. Just like Jean-Pierre, I felt like a child with a pocket of candy and nothing but time.
Louis followed and gave us several feet of space.
For the rest of the day, all I could do was hang on for the ride.
It was like Jean-Pierre had drank three large cups of coffee within one minute. He explored with a youthful energy.
In the Artisan’s Village we pretended to be blacksmiths and potters. Louis widened his eyes as Jean-Pierre sat at the pottery wheel, shaping a tiny pot for me. Minutes later, Jean-Pierre heard distant tunes from another direction, grabbed me, and raced us off there. We discovered a live-band and danced like bards to medieval tunes.
Although the chef had put together an amazing meal, Jean-Pierre voted for the vendors, sampling every damn one. Huge turkey legs and jester dogs. Venison pie and cold caramel tarts.
I bought a funnel cake and gave some to Jean-Pierre. He ended up buying two more. Behind him, Louis gave me a wink.
Merchants’ Row offered crafts and treasures. Jean-Pierre shopped there like a wild man, buying all his men large silver swords and hat with feathers. Louis refused to wear his hat but loved wagging his hooked sword in the air as we moved along.