She sucked in a lungful of stifling air and blinked several times to get her eyes to adjust and then let her breath out on a sigh as the blurry glare subsided into the shapes and color that made up the midway. People of all shapes and sizes milled everywhere, rides turned and whirled in motion, various songs and sounds rose from the different rides clashing in the air with the sound of laughter, the patter of ride jockeys and game agents, and the excited screams of the people on the rides. And all of it accompanied by the smells of popcorn and food grilling under the burning Death Valley sun. Carnival life.
“Okay?” Marcus asked, resting a hand on her shoulder.
Forcing a smile, Divine nodded and descended the stairs to weave her way through the line outside her door to get to the RV next to this one. Like hers the door on Jackie and Vincent’s RV was on the side, so she had to walk around the back of their RV to get to it. Divine was shifting the bundle of clothes she carried so that she could open the door when Marcus reached past her to do it for her.
Murmuring a thank-you, Divine slid inside and was brought up short again.
This RV was set up much the same as the one she was using, except that both the kitchenette and lounge were a bit bigger. They were also both presently filled with apples; baskets of the sweet red fruit filled every space on the floor as well as the couch and the chairs in both the lounge and kitchenette. Meantime the countertops and kitchen table were covered with trays of apples, each with a Popsicle stick poking out of it. They were also all coated with some variation of chocolate or caramel or both, and then had been rolled in various toppings ranging from crushed peanuts to tiny marshmallows. The stove was the only place free of apples. Instead it held four large, simmering pots that a huge man was stirring by turn as he hummed.
“Hi, you must be Marcus and Divine. Awake at last, huh?”
Divine turned to peer blankly at the woman who had spoken. Tall and curvaceous with short, dark hair highlighted with streaks of fuchsia, the woman wore an apron reading “Did you hug the chef today?” Under it were tight, faded jeans and a T-shirt. She was definitely interesting-looking, Divine decided, accepting the hand the woman extended in greeting as Marcus said, “Yes, I’m Marcus, and she is definitely Divine.”
The way he said it suggested he wasn’t talking about her name. She wasn’t the only one to think so though, because the man at the stove looked amused as he murmured, “I’m sure she is.”
Flushing, Divine peered at the man with curiosity. He really was a big fellow. Huge. Marcus was a big man, but not like this guy. She’d never seen shoulders quite as wide and muscular as this man had.
“This is my life mate and husband, Tiny,” Mirabeau announced.
Moving to stand behind the man, Mirabeau slid one hand up and down the center of his broad back.
Tiny shivered and arched under the touch briefly before growling, “Woman, unless you want me to spill this fudge all over both of us, I suggest you cut that out.”
Mirabeau grinned and leaned up to kiss his ear, murmuring, “That might be fun.”
“Yeah,” he agreed, bending to kiss the tip of her nose. Then he glanced past her to Divine and Marcus. “You two must be hungry. I’ll whip you up some breakfast while you shower and change.”
“Oh, that’s not—”
“Thank you, Tiny. That’d be great,” Marcus interrupted, urging Divine toward the door to the bedroom. “Go ahead, take a shower and get ready,” he said, pushing her gently into the room. “I’ll be out here with Tiny and Mirabeau.”
Divine watched him close the door, stared at it for a minute, and then shrugged and headed into the bathroom.
Marcus stood by the door for a moment until he heard sounds that suggested Divine was actually going to do as he’d suggested, and then relaxed and turned to Tiny. “Good to see you again.”