“Careful, sweetie, you might cut yourself.”

Montana Baxter pushed the sleeves to her flannel shirt up to her elbows before gently taking the small hand of the little boy sitting on the picnic bench in front of her. The boy removed his hand from the knife and started kicking his feet back and forth in the hay, humming happily, patting his thighs with the flat of his hands. She maneuvered the cut through the bumpy and uneven exterior of the pumpkin that sat in front of him.

It cut through the vertical groove of the pumpkin before she angled it downwards, the best she could over the rib, to help him cut out the rest of his eyes. “I can do it, I can do it,” the boy complained, tired of sitting and doing nothing. He started patting his hands on the table. He shifted the plastic covering towards him, pulling a pile of pumpkin seeds and guts towards him.

“Whoa, whoa, Alex,” Montana said, grabbing the table. “Shoot, you don’t wanna get yourself dirty.” She sucked in a breath of air before blowing a lock of her dirty blonde hair out of her face. “Or anyone else,” she muttered under her breath. “I don’t have many trash bags left.”

She let out a sigh as she straightened, standing up. She massaged her shoulder with her knuckles as she looked over at the little boys and girls lined up on either side of the picnic table carving pumpkins. Black trash bags covered their torsos, holes cut out for their head and arms.

“This stuff smells yucky,” a girl without two front teeth shrieked as she pulled a string of pumpkin guts out of the triangle nose of her tilted pumpkin. Montana made a face, covering her nose and mouth. The thought of watching these little kids pick their noses and continue working on their pumpkin rivaled…well, a kid picking the nose of a pumpkin.

“It is pretty yucky, isn’t it?” she asked, forcing herself to put a smile on her face. She made her way over to the girl’s side. “Why don’t we leave that inside the pumpkin, hun?” I should’ve double checked hers was empty.

It was the Clinton, Mississippi annual Halloween festival and she was in charge of the pumpkin carving station. Since the start of the carnival she had seen families drop by, couples, kids, and loners. With her being the biggest loner there. Not that she didn’t enjoy working the station but all her friends were working stations closer to each other.

There were a lot of activities for everyone that wanted to stop by for a minute or even longer. And they usually stayed for longer. Corn hole tournaments, face painting, cake walks, bingo, hay rides, allowing kids to play in the hay, petting zoos, cookie decorations, corn maze, apple picking, and a whole lot more. Loud music played from the speaker systems and from the crowd of college students tailgating in the parking lot to celebrate the latest Homecoming win.

The joints in Montana’s fingers popped as she curled them into fists, stiff from the cold, slimy pumpkins. Her wrists were starting to hurt from scooping out all of the pumpkins, and she was sure the guts weren’t the best Neosporin for the paper cuts she’s received from kids snatching paper stencils from her hands. Her feet were throbbing with how long she had been on her feet, and she was craving some hot apple cider, but this was something she looked forward to every October.

“Miz Montana, Miz Montana,” a pig tailed girl said, waving her small hand in the air. Globs of pumpkin guts flew off, landing in the hair of the two kids next to her. “Kyle’s eating the seeds again.”

“Oh, no, Kyle!” Montana hurried over to the boy who looked up at her with innocent eyes. A seed was stuck to his bottom lip, strings of orange guts hanging out of the sides of her mouth, one long one, holding a slowly spinning seed off the plump of her bottom lip. “Spit it out. I told you these weren’t to be eaten.” She held her hand in front of his mouth. “Spit it out, now.”

“My momma says we can eat ‘em,” Kyle whined. Montana sighed, knowing that whatever was in his mouth was now gone and sitting in his stomach. “It’s what she said.”

“After you clean them, dry them, and cook them, sweetie,” Montana explained, ruffling his hair. She then reached for the stack of napkins on the table and started to clean off her fingers. “Then you can put some salt on them and make them yummy. Ok?”

“Ok,” Kyle replied with a nod.

“Now, no more eating slimy seeds, ok?” Montana asked.

“Kay.”

“Excuse me.” Montana felt a tap on her shoulder. “Do we just grab pumpkins and start?”

Montana waved her hand in the air. “Yeah, there’s a free table over there,” she replied, pointing in the direction of the only empty table in her section. “Let me just clear it for you.” Sliding the used tissue into her pocket, she stepped over the hay and made her way to the empty table. Grabbing the corner of the plastic table cover, she rolled it up into a ball and shoved it into the large round; trash can before sliding a new one on. “Ok, there you go. Markers, knives, and stencils are over there.”

“So who do I have to go to for a hug, then?” the voice asked before Montana felt a tug on her ponytail. Montana grabbed the back of her head, lips poised to give the person a barrage of words. She already had to deal with childish behavior from the kids; she didn’t need it from someone else. As she turned around, her scowl turned into a smile as she gave Lance Bass a hug, careful not to get pumpkin on his clothes. “Lance! I didn’t expect you. What are you doing here? Have you seen your parents? When’d you get in?”

“We’re off for the next couple of days before our show in Biloxi so I decided to stop by,” Lance explained, his green eyes twinkling in the setting sun. “I saw my mom and dad before I came here, they’re doing well. I got in last night.” He slid his hands into his pants pockets and shrugged. “You’re not doing the Festival Pageant this year?”

“I can only take not being crowned Pumpkin Queen for so long,” Montana replied and Lance let out a laugh. In a town where beauty pageants were a normal past time, it wasn’t every day where one stipulation was whatever dress or outfit was being shown off, it had to be made out of corn shucks or hay. “You know how much I love working with kids.”

“Well, you’ve got the biggest kids coming to carve pumpkins now,” Lance said with a laugh, turning to watch his friends hurry to the cleared table, clutching pumpkins to their chest, talking loudly about what they wanted to make and whose would look better.

She recognized them instantly: J.C. Chasez, Joey Fatone, Chris Kirkpatrick, and Justin Timberlake. How could she not? *NSYNC was one of the biggest bands out there, if not the biggest. She was known to blast a few songs in her car every now and then, but Lance was a local celebrity. She had to show her support somehow. Plus, their songs were really catchy.

Once upon a time, she would be as star struck as the next *NSYNC fan, and had some embarrassing moments she tried to keep locked far, far into the back of her head. Now, it wasn’t any different than seeing a family member or a classmate on the street. It was normal. They were all still level-headed people and just wanted to lay low and spend time with their family and friends.

Lance was a year behind her in school, but everyone knew who he was. They were in Attaché together and while she quit to focus more on her future career working with kids, he went on to bigger and better things. He was a natural born performer and she wasn’t at all surprised that an opportunity as big as *NSYNC came his way.

 “I’ll let you get back to what you’re doing,” Lance said, stepping forward to give her another hug. “It was great to see you.” He snapped his fingers before pointing at her. “Apple cider on me?”

“Ya still know how to get a girl’s heart racing,” Montana said, putting a hand over her heart, fluttering her eyelashes. She and Lance shared a laugh.

“No problem,” Lance replied, removing his hand from his pocket, to give a wave of his hand. “Come find me whenever you have free time. We need to catch up.”

“Oh, there’s nothing exciting going on here, hun,” Montana said, waving her hand in the air. “It’s just little old, Clinton.” She let out a sigh when she heard a scream and turned to see a girl turning bright red in the face, pointing down at the glob of spilled pumpkin sitting on her lap. “Duty calls. Ok, Susie, let’s get you cleaned up.”

Silently wishing and praying for the next rotation of kids, Montana continued to help the kids with carving the rest of their pumpkins. She took pictures of the child smiling happily next to their pumpkin and attached nametags to the stem for families to pick up and helped light the candles to give them the full effect. Seeing their faces light up and show off their pumpkins to each other put a wide smile on her face. She really did enjoy working with kids but sometimes they just knew how to push her buttons and knew just how far across the line they could go with her.

“Ok, now everybody, hands up,” Montana dictated, putting her hand up into the air. 10 pairs of little hands did the same, smiling and giggling happily. She walked behind them, lifting the garbage bags over their heads, bundling them together before throwing them in the trash before stepping over to the last table, tapping her hand on the side of a tub filled with water. “Rinse your hands in this tub and then line up over there to meet Mrs. Bristow.”

One by one she watched the boys and girls dipped their hands in the tub of warm water, cleaning them of all traces of pumpkin before she dried them with a towel. “All right,” she said after drying the last pair of hands. She tucked the cloth under her arm before clearing the table. Humming to herself, she removed the plastic table covering and threw it away.

Brushing loose strands of hair back behind her ears, she sat down on the edge of the now clean picnic table, stretching her legs out in front of her. She tensed every muscle in her body before slowly relaxing it, allowing herself some reprieve before the next group of pumpkin carvers came. She glanced over at the *NSYNC boys and found J.C. looking back at her.

Montana blinked, before looking over her right shoulder and then her left finding no one there. J.C. started to laugh quietly. She felt her face burn that even the chilliest October breeze couldn’t cool down. It was the kind of embarrassment she’d feel when she would wave back at someone she thought was waving at her and not their friend behind her.

“What?” she asked, her voice cracking just slightly.

“Sorry,” J.C. apologized as he turned back to face his pumpkin. He grabbed the knife sitting beside him with a closed fist and jammed it into the eye of his pumpkin. As he pulled it out, the chunk of pumpkin came with it and he set it down on the table. “You’re good with kids.”

“Well, I still act like one, so…” Montana said with a shrug. J.C. laughed good naturedly. “I don’t know if you remember me. But, I’m—“

“Montana,” J.C. finished for her with a nod. “I remember.” Half of his face scrunched up. “And also because I just heard Lance say it.”

“Way to go, C,” Joey said, his words dripping with sarcasm. “Because every girl wants to hear that you forgot their name.” J.C. rolled his eyes.

“Right, like you’re Casanova yourself, Fatone,” Chris replied as he dug through his pumpkin with a spoon.

“I prefer to think I’m more like Romeo, thank you very much,” Joey said, sticking his nose in the air.

“So you woo a girl and then she wants too—“

“Ok,” Lance said, cutting across Justin and his smirk of amusement. Montana bit her bottom lip, holding back a laugh. She didn’t get the chance to spend time with the boys over years, with their busy touring schedules and heading home as soon as they had some free time being the main reasons, but she liked seeing them as down to earth people. She had seen in interviews and TV spots that they referred to each other as brothers and she could certainly see why. “Tana, could you judge our pumpkins?”

“Sure,” Montana replied with a nod of her head. She crossed one leg over the other, bouncing the heel of one of her cowboy boots off the rounded tip of the other. A cool breeze blew through and she started to hate her choice of outfit: cowboy boots (perfect for wading through wet hay and muddy grounds), a striped fall dress cinched at the waist from a large brown belt, and a light coat. Classic attired for these kind of festivity. Curse her for changing her mind about the leggings. Tugging down on the hem of her dress she tried to bundle up as much as possible. “Go for it.”

Lance turned his pumpkin around to face her. His was a pretty simple pumpkin; rounded eyes—nearly perfect circles—curved eyebrows, and a bright smile. Joey went the more traditional route for a scary pumpkin with jagged teeth and evil eyes. Justin’s went for the gross effect with pumpkin guts hanging out of its eyes, nose, and mouth to go along with its look of pain, and J.C.’s seemed to resemble the many kids that had come through; missing teeth and all.

“If we’re going for gross out, humor,” Montana commented, then I’d go with—“

“Gotcha!”

SPLAT!

Montana flinched as cold, slimy, pumpkin guts landed on her face, entangled with even slimier pumpkin seeds. The mildly sweet, yet strong pumpkin smell filled her nostrils more so than when she first started working at the station that day. As she stood open mouthed, suddenly aware of the silence surrounding her, she felt pumpkin seeds slowly slide down her face and into her open mouth.

“Pffft.” She flinched, spitting everything out of her mouth. “Oh, grossssss!”

“I’m…sooo…sorry,” she heard Chris say between his snorts and little slips of laughter.

Montana lifted a shaking hand and grasped at the fibers stuck on her face, shuddering as she pulled. The feeling resembled removing a spider web from her face that she suddenly ran into. Minus the spastic flailing anyway. Blinking open her eyes, J.C., Joey, Lance, and Justin stared back at her, jaws dropped, eyes wide. Chris had one hand covering his mouth, the other tightly holding a spoon which she quickly realized was the reason why she had suddenly been blasted in the face.

“Are you ok?” Lance asked quietly.

Montana looked down at the glob of orange and white in her hand. She felt something slowly slide down her face, closer and closer to her eye. She shifted her gaze upwards and blinked, trying to figure out what the large mass was.

“Ow!” Montana suddenly clamped a hand to her eye as it started burning with pain. She couldn’t even tell what she had been hit with. She just saw orange, white, orange, white, and then her vision shimmered as her eyes got watery.

“Oh, shoot.” She suddenly felt someone standing in front of her. A hand cradled the back of her head, slender fingers sliding through her hair, sending shivers rolling down her spine, firing off every electrode to the tip of her skull, to the tip of her fingers, to the tip of her toes. The coarse fibers of her towel scratched against her face, clearing her vision and her face from the slimy feeing. “You ok?”

“I don’t know,” Montana replied, rubbing at her eyelid. Her eye stung, throbbing with pain.

“Ooh, it might’ve scratched your eye.” Montana blinked open an eye and came face to face with J.C. Worry was etched into his face, eyebrows angled towards each other. His blue eyes, what many fans considered to be “kick butt” but now, in the dimming light of the sunset, they were simply indescribable. “It was a pumpkin seed.”

Montana pressed the heel of her palm to her eye. “Ow, ow, ow.” She sucked in a breath of air through her teeth before letting out a sigh. “I better get this cleaned up before the next group comes,” she said, dabbing at her eye, wincing just slightly as it stung beneath her touch. She blinked rapidly, trying to rid the discomfort. “Ow.”

“I’ll help,” Lance offered, removing a webbing of pumpkin guys from the side of his neck. He frowned as he started to shake his hands free from it. Montana suddenly realized just how much pumpkin bits landed on them from the chunk that was catapulted through the air.

“No, that’s ok,” Montana replied, waving her hand in the air. “It’s not the first time something like this has happened.”

“Well, let us at least clear this away,” Justin insisted, waving his arms around to indicate the tables covered in pumpkin. “While you get yourself cleaned up.”

 “I appreciate it,” Montana said, giving them all a nod of thanks. She turned her head and used her shoulder to dab at her eye. “But, that’s ok. I don’t want y’all to spend your night helping me. Go on and enjoy the festival.” She stepped forward to start collecting the knives and J.C. gently grabbed her wrist.

“Go on,” he said, nodding his head to the side. He gave her a warm smile. “It’s ok. We’ve got this.”

Montana gave her best smile, trying to hold back her sudden urge to throw up (the pumpkin smell was getting too overwhelming and a sudden ache had appeared) before turning on her heels, making her way to the bathroom.

Not only was a cleanse of her clothes in order, but so was her brain. She didn’t do musicians. Or really anyone else for that matter, but the point still stands. It was best to distance herself as soon as possible. Besides, that touch…that soft, gentle touch, suddenly made her need to pee.

 

“Ugh, I told you that the pumpkin station was a bad idea.”

Montana brushed her hands down the front of her dress making sure the damp spots had dried before she planted her hands on her hips. She rolled her head on her neck to face her friend Lucille as they stepped through the uneven grounds of the festival. She shoved her hands into her jeans pockets, making a face as she touched something crumbly and dry. Removing her hand, she found the crumbled bits of dry pumpkin pulp.

“It wasn’t that bad,” Montana protested, brushing the crumbs off her hands. “The kids were cute. If I just have to make sure they don’t stab themselves, then so be it.”

“We’re not going to have to live through another lecture on why you hate pumpkins, are we?” Dante asked, skirting around a group of kids running with bags of candy.

“They’re just…yuck! I hate them,” Lucile said with a shudder. “The smell, the taste, the feel.” She shuddered again. “It’s everywhere and they’re not that great.”

“You’ve never had my aunt’s pumpkin pie,” Dante protested, sliding his hands into his jeans pockets.

“Yes, she did,” Montana laughed, poking him in the side. “She thought it was sweet potato, remember?” Dante groaned, rolling his eyes.

“See!” Lucille nearly shouted. The more excited or passionate she became on a topic, the louder she usually got. It was no wonder she was not only a great public speaker, but on the debate team in high school. “Why have pumpkin pie just because it’s trying to masquerade around as potato goodness?”

“Shoot, anyone can see the difference between them,” Montana replied, pulling the strap to her purse up her arm. “Pumpkin is orange and sweet potato…well, it looks like..orange-ish…mud.”

“What a selling point,” Dante sarcastically replied. Montana shoved his shoulder. “So these guys just started throwing pumpkin everywhere?”

“No, it was an accident,” Montana replied, waving her hand in the air. “You remember Lance went off to Florida and joined *NSYNC? They stopped by on a break from touring and he wanted to show them the festival.”

“Ooh, and I know how much you just love musicians,” Lucille said, looping an arm around her friend.

“They’re nice,” Montana protested.

“And so was Trevor, and Nick, and Zane,” Dante reminded her, counting off on her fingers. “But you remember how all those turned out.” He waved a hand in the air. “I mean, you stopped talking to Meredith once she started her singing career.”

Montana made a humming noise. Trevor was her first high school boyfriend, their short, senior year romance was something she was sure would last forever . Everyone knew he’d be the next Nashville star. He had her under his spell. He’d write songs just for her and she was the adoring fan. She’d be at every rehearsal and front row at every performance as he worked harder and harder to come closer to his goal. Which goal that was, she wasn’t sure but it was a toss-up between being the next big country star or having the most girls flocking after him.

He was well on his way to both. He already had a song used in a movie coming out next summer and was photographed with a new girl on his arm every few months. She could say that she was there first, but she wasn’t too entirely sure. Rumors had gone around in high school about his “rock star life.” Gossip did tend to make it’s rounds pretty quickly but she wasn’t going to stick around to figure out what was true and what was made up.

Nick was her first real boyfriend. They were great together and he really supported her through volunteering at schools and student teaching. He played guitar as a hobby more than a career, but soon that hobby became the only thing he really wanted to do. He practiced all the time, constantly wanting opinions. She didn’t know much about music, just what she did or didn’t like. She couldn’t get specific and he was always asking about different chords, or drop tuning, or stuff about amps. And when she couldn’t give him the answer he wanted, he would pout. Worse than some of her kids, even.

He would ask her to stop making lesson plans and listen to what he had just come up with. He would arrive to class unannounced to try and be part of music time insisting that there was someone out there that wanted to listen to him. She got tired of listening, and tired of him wanting to spend all his money on his hobby and then turn around to start asking her for some, and gave him the boot.

But Zane was the worst. Their relationship was a whirlwind. He knew how to break her out of her school routine and bring some fun back into her life. Too much fun she later found out. She wasn’t into the party scene, but that was what he as focused on at the time. He claimed it was part of his world; it was things he had to do to get ahead in his line of work if he even wanted a shot at playing some festivals or bars. She believed hard work was the only thing needed. She had had enough after another late night on her own with a broken promise and texted him they were done.

He took their break up hard, even going out of his way to make a spectacle when she showed up at one of the local shows with Lucille, loudly, and drunkenly exclaiming into the microphone that she wasn’t welcome. She was done with musicians after that instance. She, realistically, knew how hard it was to live that lifestyle and get to the level of success that many looked for, and didn’t have the patience to be with anyone who was going to spend the rest of their life constantly chasing it.

“She just got busy, I still talk to her from time to time,” Montana protested. “And thank you for the unwanted trip down memory lane.”

“Speaking of which,” Dante said with a smile as he came to a stop. He angled his head to the side and Montana followed his direction, letting out a laugh as she took in the sight of the corn maze. “Want to race?”

“Last one out treats the winners to whatever they want?” Lucille asked, a challenging sparkle in her eyes. She lifted her leg, starting to stretching her calves. “Just like old times.”

“Come on you guys, don’t you think we’re a little too old for this?” Montana protested. Ok, she was only 24 years young, but she was mature for her age. She was in graduate school and well on her way to

“No,” Dante and Lucille replied in unison.

“Readysetgo,” Montana said before she took off running, taking the first left into the corn maze. Her purse slapped against her side with each step. She heard Dante and Lucille’s shouts of protest before they followed her into the maze, taking different routes. Montana laughed to herself, hurrying left, right, and left again, rounding corners so fast she nearly collided with the bushes lining the pathway. But she was successful in colliding with the tall figure she didn’t have enough time to avoid. “Oof!”

She felt herself fall back onto her bottom, pain shooting up her spine. Great. First pumpkin and now this, she thought to herself. And here I thought my clumsy teen years were over. She brushed her hair from her face and looked up at the person she ran into. Of course.

“What?” J.C. asked, a confused look crossing his face as he towered over her, holding a hand out towards her.

“I said that out loud, didn’t I?” she asked before taking his hand, allowing him to help her up. J.C. opened and closed his mouth before nodding his head. She used her hand to brush the seat of her dress. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” he replied. “I was looking for you.”

Montan blinked. “I—what?”

“You didn’t hear me calling you?” J.C. asked. He tilted his head to the side, his short, curly-ish hair hanging off the side of his head. He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “We decided to go through the maze and I saw you….fly by and came looking for you. I just wanted to apologize again for Chris.”

“Like I said, it’s not the first time something like that has happened,” Montana replied, waving her hand in the air. “Working with kids, you’re bound to have something end up on you; food, beverages, snot, vomit. You get used to it.”

“I’ll bet,” J.C. said with a small laugh. “You’re good with them. The kids.”

“You said that already,” Montana replied.

“Did I…do something?” J.C. asked, his eyebrows sliding upwards.

Montana briefly closed her eyes, putting her hands up in the air. “Thank you for your apology, hon” she said as she gazed at him. “I accept.” She stepped past him and started walking backwards. “I have to find my way out of the maze. If I don’t beat my friends, I have to pay for whatever they want to eat.”

“Sounds like something Joey or Chris would say,” J.C. mused aloud.

“Right.” Montana gave a nod of her head. A small chuckle slipped past her lips. It actually was. She knew Chris and Joey were pretty big eaters. “Well, there’s plenty of good eatin’ here for ‘em, that’s for sure.” Turning on her heels, she started making her way through the maze again, moving at a slower pace. Her shoes crunched over the dirt and small rocks on the path. “You didn’t do anything.”

“Sorry?” Montana turned around, crossing her arms over her chest. She expected J.C. to come around the corner, but after a few moments of silence, and his repeated “Sorry?” she realized he wasn’t near her.

“Hey—where are you?” Montana asked, spinning in a circle.

“I’m over here.”

“That’s helpful,” Montana muttered. She spun in a circle again, and again. She stood on her tip toes, but the corn was too tall for her to see. “Where?”

“Over here!” The voice came to her right and she started to follow it.

“Ok, if you’re, waving your hand or something, darlin’, I can’t see it,” she said.

“Yeah, I figured that out.”

Now the voice was coming to her left. What? Montana took her immediate left and started making her way back towards the direction of J.C.’s voice. She rounded another corner and came upon a dead-end. “I can’t find you!” she called.

She heard J.C.’s deep chuckle from…somewhere in the corn field. “I was looking for you,” he called. “Don’t you know you’re supposed to stay in one spot when you’re lost?”

Montana kicked at the ground with her boot. “I was never a girl scout,” she replied. “And if you’re so smart, why didn’t you stay put?”

“Just keep talking, I’ll find you,” J.C. replied.

Montana laughed, shaking her head. See, not all musicians are bad, her inner voice said in a smug tone. She rolled her eyes. Looks could be deceiving after all. The nicest people could turn out to be sociopaths. Now you’re just being ridiculous. You even said it yourself, he’s a down to earth guy. What’s the problem? Give the guy a chance.

The problem was being burned too many times by guys. Besides, she needed to sort out her priorities and land down a job and have everything settled before letting a guy in. It’s only for an evening. Who knows what’ll happen. At least enjoy one night. She was at the festival for some fun and it gave her more hands on experience with kids. Excuses, excuses.

“I said you weren’t doing anything wrong,” Montana said with a heavy sigh, pulling her coat tight around her. “I was kind of…short with you. Now it’s my turn to ‘pologize.”

“Apology accepted,” J.C. replied. “How’s your eye by the way?”

“Apparently, not well enough to get me out of here,” Montana replied, earning another laugh from him. “It’s not anything you did, you know. It’s just been a long night.”

“Aw, but you looked like a champ, wrangling those kids,” J.C. replied.

“Compared to some of the adults, it’s not too hard,” Montana explained, rocking back and forth on her heels. “Adults are just big teenagers when you think about it. They can be just as immature.”

“So, we’re back to the pumpkin throwing again.”

“It’s going to take me a while to get the pumpkin smell out of my clothes and hair, that’s all I’m saying.” Montana put her hands in the air, holding them out in front of her defensively. Duh, Tana, it’s not like he can see you right now. “So, you wanted to spend your time off tour at a festival.”

“Lance spoke highly of it,” J.C. explained, “and we thought it’d be fun. Plus, we heard there was a cake walk and we couldn’t really pass up cake.”

Montana laughed. “Leave it to a fella to think with their stomach,” she commented.

“Isn’t it the best way to a man’s heart?” J.C. asked. He rounded the corner and gave her a smile. “Hey.”

“Hi,” Montana replied, lifting her hand in a small wave. She twisted her fingers in front of her as she walked past him. “Lucky for you men, it’s easy. You just have to sweep us girls off our feet.”

“Easier said than done,” J.C. said, turning to fall into step beside her. She elbowed him in the side. “Just kidding. Kind of.”

“Well, it’s easy to do when you have musical abilities,” Montana replied. She got silence in reply and looked up to see a curious look on J.C.’s face. “Come on.” She let out a short laugh. “What girl doesn’t want a guy to serenade her?”

“I guess, but I don’t think that’s what you meant,” J.C. replied.

It’s not. He’s on to you. Montana made a face. Might as well let it all out, now. Of course her inner voice would panic and throw her under the bus so to speak. “I’ve just haven’t had the best run with musicians, that’s all,” she said, waving her hand in the air. She still got silence. “No offense.”

“Guess I’m not making things much easier then,” J.C. said with a small smile.

“Guess not,” Montana replied. “I mean, you did make me get lost.”

“Yeah, ok,” J.C. replied with a roll of his eyes. He looked at Montana out of the corner of his eye and she felt a smile form on her lips. The two laughed quietly. “I heard Lance say you love apple cider. Maybe I can make it up to you?”

“You have to cross the festival to the barn for some,” Montana replied. “And we need to get out of here first. And I don’t want to pull you away from your friends so….”

What are you doing? Oh now her inner voice wanted to come back. You just took a stroll down memory lane with the boyfriends of no return. Are you really going to let them stop you from moving forward? Montana, slid her hands into her jeans pockets, kicking at the ground. The best way to get over a man is to get under another. Or to go on a hayride with them. Whatever.

“Why don’t we go find our friends, together?” J.C. asked. “Knowing mine, they’re probably causing some trouble I don’t really want to be in.”

“You love it and you know it,” Montana said with a snort. “I’ve seen your interviews. You and Lance both love to have fun, but you’re seen as the more serious ones.”

“So you’re a fan,” J.C. pointed out.

“Hometown pride, hon,” Montana replied, placing a hand over her heart before shrugging her shoulders. “So, how’s the tour?”

“With all due respect, we came here to get away from our jobs for a while,” J.C. said to her, his upper lip curling just slightly.

“Sure,” Montana agreed with a nod of her head. They came to a fork in the path and J.C. moved to take the right path, but Montana reached out a hand, clasping his, pulling him to a stop. “It’s this way.” She pointed to the left.

“How do you know?” J.C. asked. “I mean, you did get lost.”

“I kind of…walked it this morning,” she replied with a shrug. “I took the kids in; the smaller ones are too scared to do it at night.”

“Whatever you say,” J.C. said, an amused smile on his face as he shifted his direction to head to the exit. Montana flushed, realizing she was still holding his hand. She went to pull her hand back, but he gave it a gentle squeeze, flashing her a sheepish grin. “If you don’t mind…”

“A big star like you, who performs in front of thousands of people, scared of a little corn maze,” she said to him. J.C. bobbed his head from side to side, a bright blush creeping up his face.

“When I was a kid, my parents took me in one,” he explained to her, talking slowly. “I told my family I could make it out by myself. So the let me go. I…got lost and cried because the scarecrows scared me.”

“Awwwhahahaha,” Montana tried to show sympathy and it quickly turned into a fit of giggles.

“Gee, thanks,” J.C. said sarcastically, an embarrassed smile on his face.

 

The wagon creaked as it slowly rolled through the trail of dirt it had rolled over countless times before. Grass didn’t grow there anymore as a result, marking out the path J.C. and Montana were travelling on, trying to find their friends.

At least that’s what he had insisted to her. Not that he wasn’t looking for his friends, either. J.C. was enjoying her company and wasn’t in too much of a rush to get back to his friends. She on the other hand…well, there had to be a reason as to why she seemed to be trying to keep their conversation short and to the point.

He wasn’t used to it. And it’s what made him more interested in trying to figure her out. Screaming, crying, the odd article of clothing flung at his head, that was something he was used to. He was used to the noise and the hustle and bustle of tour life, the calm and quiet, while it was something he could thrive in (or at least sleep in), it was still different. Kind of jarring in a way.

“What made you decide to become a teacher?” he asked, shifting in his little bed of hay. He swiped at the back of his neck, brushing away the hay that was tickling his skin. His skin itched and the hay poked him everywhere they could reach him in gaps between his clothes.

J.C. watched as Montana shifted her gaze from the star filled sky, over to him. She lounged lazily against a stack of hay, her legs—her long, smooth legs—stretched out in front of her arms crossed over her chest. She didn’t answer for a moment, the creaking sound being joined by the whistling of the older man driving the horses forward.

“I don’t know,” she replied with a shrug. “I was just always good with them. Like you said.”

“You are,” J.C. insisted. “I think my brother and sister are a handful. I don’t know how you do it.”

“It’s not that bad,” Montana replied, waving her hand in the air. “You just have to show them whose boss, that’s all.”

“Oh—ACHOO!” The sneeze came up on J.C. suddenly and he felt himself jerk forward, hay flying through the air as he blasted it off his chest.

Montana chuckled, shifting closer towards him, reaching into her purse for a pack of tissues. “I’m not going to wipe your nose,” she said, miming that she was going to toss it at him. J.C. lifted his hand and snatched the tissues out of the air. “I mean, I know people never really stop being big kids but…”

“Ha, ha.” J.C. gave a fake laugh as he pulled open the packet. “That was not my intention, I promise you.” He sniffed loudly. “My mom stopped wiping my nose when I was four.”

“Really?” Montana asked, her thin eyebrows arching upwards. “Figured someone like you would’ve had people to do it for you.”

J.C. felt his eyebrows lower just slightly. Judging by her half smile, it wasn’t a jab at him. But, there was something in that comment know t that seemed off. No, in a lot of her comments. Kind of like a double meaning or something. He shook his head. You’re just over thinking it, J.C. There’s nothing going on here.

Nothing.

That was a problem. There was something about her that instantly captured and held his attention. The second he had set eyes on her, he wanted to know more about her. But she was doing a pretty good job at keeping to herself.

“Did I do something?” J.C. asked, repeating his question from earlier. “Did I offend you or something?”

“I don’t understand what you mean, hon,” Montana replied.

There was that word. He didn’t know how long it’s been since he heard anyone, a girlfriend or his own mom call him that. It was comforting and instantly brought a sense of longing into the pit of his stomach. It almost felt like he had stepped off the edge of the cart without looking and he was falling.

Maybe he was falling. He hadn’t felt like he had to try so hard to get to know someone, but he wasn’t complaining. She certainly was interesting…what little he knew about her, anyway. She certainly wasn’t like a lot of girls he had met outside of the ten second, or maybe even five minute meet and greet. And she definitely wasn’t like anyone in the industry.

On the one hand, dating someone in the industry worked out for the most part because they understood the busy schedules, changing of events at the last minute, the long distances, all of it. It took a real special person to understand and be able to work around his schedule with no complaints and so much understanding. He hadn’t found anyone that really fit his lifestyle like that.

But maybe…

Don’t get ahead of yourself, J.C. You just met her. You don’t know anything about her. J.C. pressed his lips together. “You seem to not…like me.”

“I don’t know you,” Montana replied.

J.C. snorted. “You don’t know J.C. Chasez?” he asked. He wasn’t an egotistical person by trade. Serious? Sure. Funny? Yes. Proud of his work? No doubt about it. But, he wasn’t egotistical. It was just, admittedly, hard to find anyone that didn’t know who he was or what he did. Even then, the people that really knew who the real J.C. was, was his friends and family.

“I don’t care that you’re some big musician you know,” Montana commented, her eyes narrowing.

“I know you don’t,” J.C. replied. He held back a laugh. The first time he had even met her, she had confused him for a concert worker when she was backstage at their show in Biloxi, looking for Lance. She was embarrassed, but for some odd reason, it had flattered him in a way. It seemed that, for once in his life, apart from his friends and family, someone out there saw him as a normal person. “So why don’t you like me?”

A pained expression crossed her face before she bit down on her lower lip. “It’s not you,” she replied. “I just don’t…do musicians.”

J.C. couldn’t hold his laughter back. Chalk it up to him being a male, or just being around Chris and Joey’s dirty mouths for so long, he couldn’t help but have his mind pick up on the double entendre. Montana scowled at him, but the harder he laughed, the less severe her look was. Then she was giggling along with him.

“You know what I mean,” she said, blushing, brushing her hair behind her ears. “I’ve just dated too many musicians. That’s all.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not too many musicians,” J.C. replied, lifting his eyebrow. He didn’t know her story but, in a way, he got it. Dating a musician was hard. He knew not everyone was able to reach what he was doing, and he wasn’t trying to toot his own horn, but it was a tough profession to be a part of. “So…”

“It’s not fair, I know,” Montana replied. She got to her feet, balancing herself by grabbing the side of the cart. She used her free hand to brush the hay free from the seat of her pants before she carefully made her way closer to him. Montana tucked her legs beneath her as she lowered herself down into the hay. She brushed her hand down her legs, ridding them of little bits of hay kicked up from her shoes. “And I’m sorry, sweetie.”

“I’m sorry, too,” J.C. replied. He tilted his head to the side. “You’ve really been working with kids for a long time, haven’t you?”

“What makes you say that?” Montana asked.

“You keep calling me ‘honey’ and ‘sweetie’,” J.C. replied. Montana stared at him for a moment before she bowed her head, her lips parting into a small smile.

“Yeah, that’s a…bad habit,” she said, running the palm of her hand over her hair, smoothing down the loose strands of hair. “You spend six hours a day with them and they feel like your own for just a little while. I don’t even realize I do it.”

“That’s ok,” J.C. replied, waving his hand in the air. He crossed is arms over his chest, watching her as they continued along the path. She hummed to herself as she took in the sights of the families taking part in the festival. A beam of moonlight hit her just right, illuminating the sparkle in her eyes and making her blond hair look more of a fiery gold. There really was something mysterious about her hat he couldn’t put his finger on. “So, I must be some musician, then.”

“Huh?” Montana asked, her nose wrinkling as she gave him a confused look.

“I guess I should be lucky I haven’t been thrown out of the cart yet,” J.C. replied.

Montana grinned, shrugging her shoulders. “The ride ain’t over yet, hon” she replied. A hand flew up to cover her mouth. “Sorry. I mean, J.C.”

No, it certainly was not.

“Is there anything I can do to get you to change your mind about musicians?” J.C. asked.

“Y’all have been doing that every time I see you again,” Montana replied, waving her hand in the air. “You’re some of the most down to earth men I know. It’s refreshing to see.”

“Those other guys must’ve been jerks to make you want to just write us all off,” J.C. commented.

“Well…” Montana trailed off. J.C. watched as her facial features shifted from thoughtful, to annoyance, to curious, to admission. “Yeahhhh.” J.C. snorted and Montana let out a short, breathy laugh. “That sounds bad.”

“It’s how you feel,” J.C. replied with a shrug. “But, I don’t think you should write off all musicians just because of a couple—“

“Three,” Montana corrected him.

“Three guys,” J.C.  replied. “Ohhhh.” That made sense. Whether it was due to musicians or just guys in general, adding that in with her work, it was no wonder she didn’t want to open herself up to someone. Or maybe she wasn’t ready.

What was he doing, anyway? He was only in town for a little bit of time. Even if something could happen between the two of them, he couldn’t just turn around and ask her to wait. It was something he thought he could get used to, but there was a lot he had missed out on growing up on stage and in the spotlight. Maybe this was something he should take a chance on. He hadn’t totally given up on girls but…it certainly was hard to find the right one.

Joey and Chris didn’t seem to have a problem enjoying their single lives while out on the road. Justin certainly knew how to keep his relationship with Britney (yes, the Britney) going despite the long distance and her own success with her music. Lance was too busy with his own production company and their music to really take some time out of his life to focus on girls. So, what was stopping him? It’s not like he had given up on girls.

It was just as hard to be the chaser as it was hard to wait for the right girl to find him. Either way, he didn’t know if anyone he was interested in was interested in him only because of his job.

“Yeah.” Montana sniffed. “Besides, I don’t have time for dating right now anyway.”

“How about just having some fun?” J.C. asked, tilting his head just slightly. He lifted his shoulders, holding out his hands in a curious look. “You’re not in charge of the kids for the rest of the night are you?” His body shifted as the cart driver pulled on the reigns the horses, pulling them to a stop. The cart wheels gave one last creak before they came to a stop.

“We’re at our stop, ladies and gents, everybody off,” the man said in a heavy accent.

“Well?” J.C. got to his feet, brushing his hands over his clothes and his hair. Bits of hay sprinkled out of his hair and floated down to the covered floor of the cart. As he shifted his weight, the cart shifted and he stumbled back just slightly into the stack of hay lining the cart.

“Nooo,” Montana replied, holding out the word.

“Good.” His lips pulled back into a mischievous smile and he quickly grabbed a handful of hay, throwing it at her.

“Ahh!” A shriek slipped out of Montana’s mouth as she turned her head, trying to block her face from the direct hit. JC laughed, clapping his hands together to get the little remnants of hay off. “Jerk!” Montana threw some back at him, but he was ready for her with another handful.

Hay went flying through the air, floating around their heads, pieces getting in their hair and landing on their clothes as they laughed. “See.” JC said as he suddenly stopped to brush the hay out of his hair and off his clothes. “Having some fun isn’t a big deal.”

He got to his feet and held his hand out to the smaller girl. Montana sighed, taking his hand. Her slender fingers slid over his palm, sending a shock up J.C.’s arm. His fingers enclosed around hers and he shifted his weight backwards, pulling her up.

Then it happened.

His nose twitched. His throat tickled. His eyes slammed shut, his head tilted back and swung forward as he let out a loud, “AHH-CHOOO-OW!” His sneeze turned into a groan of pain as his forehead slammed down on top of her skull.

“Ohhhhh!” Montana groaned, her hands flying up to the top of her head. Her forward momentum from his tug sent her falling forward into him. J.C. grunted as he wrapped his arms around her, stumbling backwards into a bale of hay. His knees buckled and he dropped into a seated position on top with Montana sitting half on and half off his lap.

“Everythin’ alright, back there?”

“Yes!” Montana squeaked out, jumping to her feet. “We’re fine. We’re getting’ off, now.” She looked at J.C. out of the corner of her eye, spotting the smirk that slid onto her face. “Ya know what I meant.”

He chuckled.

 

 

J.C. never expected the night to turn out like this. All he had thought as he sat in the driver’s seat of the car with Lance navigating him, that the night would be filled with eating, spending time with friends, and barely flinching at each and every one of Joey and Chris’s attempts to scare them. He hadn’t spent a Halloween like this, going to a festival and taking in all of the activities, in a long, long time. As he continued along the path with Montana, he wondered just how long it had been since she allowed herself to open up and truly enjoy a budding…something.

They weren’t exactly friends despite how often they had seen each other over the years as he passed through town for concerts. They didn’t know that little of each other to be considered acquaintances, either. If he had to, he’d chalk it up to…familiar. She was familiar. The feeling of comfort and camaraderie that she brought to him even as they walked in silence was familiar. Feeling a growing sense of connection with her was familiar.

He hoped he could do the same for her. If he couldn’t b the one person for her, maybe he could help her learn that not all guys were bad. She deserved someone great; who could treat her like she was special and to remind her that she in fact was just that for every day for the rest of her life. He knew he couldn’t give that to her, not unless his schedule was to ever slow down. Honestly? He didn’t see that coming for a long while. It would be nice to have someone like her to come back to, but it was always hard to find that one person to ask to wait for him, no matter how special.

“You’re quiet all of a sudden.” J.C. looked down at her, spotting her cheeks tinged a light pink. That was cute. She was still embarrassed.

“Don’t want you taking anything else I say out of context,” she replied, tucking her hair behind her ears. She smoothed her hands down her dress before clasping her fingers in her lap.

“Hmmm.” J.C. pursed his lips just slightly. “Seems to me, given you work with kids, you’d be hearing a lot of unintentional double entendres.” Montana opened and closed her mouth. “Gotcha.”

“Did you set out to embarrass me?” she asked with a huff, crossing her arms over her chest.

“No,” J.C. replied. “Just to get your guard down.” He gently prodded her side with his elbow. “Admit it; you’re having more fun with me than you thought you would all evening.”

Montana sighed. “Maybe I am,” she admitted after a moment of silence.

“See, guys aren’t so bad?” J.C. asked. “And for a two-fer, I’m a musician, too.”

“I already apologized for that,” Montana said with a frown. She grabbed his arm, stopping him from walking and looked up at him. Her eyes were filled with...a range of emotions, cycling through like a slot machine. Determination. Regret. Guilt. Apology. “I didn’t mean to insult you.”

“I know,” J.C. simply replied. “And I know you meant it.” The two silently stared at each other for a moment before Montana broke eye contact. She started moving before he did. J.C. sucked in a cool breath of air through his nose, feeling the cold dry air collect in his lungs before he let out the breath of air, watching as it turned into a ball of white mist in front of his mouth. “I just don’t think someone like you should close yourself off. Especially because of how young you are. You have so much of your life ahead of you.”

“I don’t need you lecturing me on my life choices, thanks,” Montana muttered, quickening her pace.

J.C. hiked an eyebrow, slowing to a stop. He watched as she marched away from him, hands in tight fists, legs moving in overtime, her spine stiff. This time, he knew he was the cause of her building up her wall again. It was so easy for him to start chipping at it and making some headway and here he was, forcing her to build it back up.

He barely knew her and yet she could bring out so many things in him. Worry. Compassion. Annoyance. Frustration.  Pride. It was an indicator of a deep seated instant connection he hadn’t ever truly felt with someone. Or it was just noticeably different. It was all those things that made him do what he did next.

He marched up behind Montana, and looped his arm around her waist. “What are you doing?” Montana asked, turning to face him. She put a hand to his chest to try and push him away as he stepped closer. She didn’t look angry. Maybe a little startled. Her face flushed as he wordlessly stepped closer to her, lifting his fingers, trailing the pad against the side of her cheek. Her eyelids fluttered closed just slightly as she turned her head into his touch. The palm of his hand cupped her face and he gently stroked his thumb over the bridge of her warm cheek.

Then he kissed her.

Montana at first stiffened in his arms before relaxing, pressing herself against him. A soft “mmmm” reached his ears and her lips started to slide over his. Her fingers left a burning trail up his arms before they reached his scalp. He pulled her closer, longing for her touch, for the feel of her body fitting perfectly against his. Her hair tickled his face, sending shivers up his spine. A sigh slipped past his lips as he pulled away with a slight sucking sound, giving himself some space to breathe.

“J.C..” Montana opened and closed her mouth, her fingers gently touching her lips. “We shouldn’t. You’re not going to be in town for long.”

“I know,” J.C. replied, his voice cracking just slightly. “But that doesn’t matter.”

“Doesn’t it?” Montana asked quietly. She shook her head, her hair flying around her face. “I-I don’t do this.”

“What?” J.C. asked. Montana pressed her lips together, continuing down the path. J.C. fell into step beside her, shooting her a curious look. But he had felt it. He had felt her. She had let her guard down and just gone with the moment. Something she hadn’t done in a long time. The music in the distant grew louder and louder by the minute. They rounded a corner and the dim lights of the barn in the distance glowed warmly, beckoning them

“I don’t just go around kissing men,” Montana replied. “That’s not me. It’s not how I was raised.”

“There’s nothing wrong with having fun,” J.C. replied in an even tone. “You’re supposed to date more than one person to find out who you’re most compatible with.” He wiped his thumb along his bottom lip. “As long as you’re being safe, that’s all that matters. And honestly, I’m having a good time with you tonight.”

“Oh, so you can go and find someone else at your next tour stop?” Montana asked, throwing an annoyed look his way. J.C. crossed his arms over his chest, feeling himself smirk. “What?”

“You sound jealous.”

“I’m not,” Montana replied.

“No, I’d just be proving your point if I was that way,” J.C. replied. He slowly shook his head back and forth. “A musician who can’t be faithful. You’re not helping yourself, Tana. You say you want a relationship but not unless they play by your rules, right? That way no one can get hurt.” Montana’s lips twitched. “It hurts me to know someone like you, that deserves everything in the world, is this way.”

“We don’t even know each other.”

“So you’ve said.” J.C. nodded. “But, I know that I like you. And I know that I’d like to get to know you if you’d let me.” He lifted his hand, gently tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “And from the way you just kissed me, I think you’ve wanted that for a while.” He gently took her hands and Montana allowed him to do so. “Don’t give up on love now, hon. It may not be as simple as you’re hoping and wanting it to be, but I trust you, it’s worth it.”

Montana let out a short laugh through her nose, giving him a fleeting smile. She swallowed thickly before giving a nod of her head. “Ok,” she said quietly. “Yeah.” She gently squeezed his hands before standing on her tiptoes, her eyes falling shut.

J.C. smiled before closing the space between them, kissing her again. Montana responded instantly tightly gripping his arms, standing up on her tiptoes to reach him. He was gasping for air when they finally pulled away from each other, faces flushed, and pleased smiles on their faces.

“I’ve been missing out on a lot, huh?” she asked quietly.

Not as much as me. The words were on the tip of his tongue, but he didn’t push them out of his mouth. He knew what he was getting into when he started his career. He missed out on a lot of activities a lot of people his age took part in, he missed out on college, and in some instances family events as well. Even if it was for a short period of time, getting the chance to go home and spend time with his family, and to even to activities like this, was something he tried to do as often as he could.

“Well, I missed out on learning how to line dance,” J.C. said, angling his head towards the barn. “Maybe you could teach me.” Montana looked over at the barn before glancing up at him, her eyes sparkling mischievously. J.C. had a feeling he was getting a glimpse at the old Montana and found her that much more alluring.

“You’ll probably be pickin’ it up faster than you think, hon,” she replied before taking his hands, pulling him behind her. He stumbled just slightly to keep up with her and her pace. As they entered through the front doors of the barn a wave of warm air hit him in the face. It wasn’t too crowded, but the dance floor held many people dancing to the upbeat music played from the band on stage. “Come on.”

“I’ll watch you first,” J.C. said, spotting his band mates in the corner. He gave her a smile before making his way over to his friends. “Where’s Justin?” he asked as he came up to Lance, Chris, and Joey. Lance lifted his beer bottle to his lips before nodding his head towards the dance floor. J.C. craned his neck and chuckled when he spotted the youngest member of the band in the center of the dancers, moving along with the other dancers to the synchronized moves, over exaggerating them to the amusement of the dancers around him. “Does everybody know how to do this?”

“Oh yeah,” Lance replied after he swallowed. “Church and line dancing are the pillars of southern living.” J.C. smirked at his friend’s sarcasm. Lance’s eyebrows twitched upwards as before took another swig. “Well?”

“Thanks,” J.C. said, clapping his friend on the shoulder. “Things are going well between us.”

“It must have if it took this long for you to get here,” Chris said with a snort. “That’s ok, you’re probably just out of practice. Being old and all.”

“Who’s calling who old?” J.C. asked, hiking an eyebrow. Chris merely shrugged his shoulders.

“So what was it that took you so long?” Joey asked. He winked at J.C. “The hay ride over isn’t that long. Or did you uh, really take a hay ride.” Lance swung out his fist, hitting his friend in the stomach. Joey barely flinched.

J.C. rolled his eyes. “It’s not like that,” he said. Lance, Chris, and Joey exchanged glances. “Seriously. We’re just having fun. Getting to know each other.”

“Whatever you want to call it,” Joey said, putting his hands up defensively. “Glad it’s working out.”

“Thanks again,” J.C. replied.

“Hey, thank Dante and Lucille,” Lance corrected him, pursing his lips just slightly as he removed them from his drink. “They did me a favor. They just want to see Tana happy.”

“So do I,” J.C. replied. He clapped Lance on the shoulder before turning on his heels, making a beeline for Montana who moved along to the beat of the music. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

“Course you can,” Montana said with a bright smile, taking his hands as the music changed, sowing just slightly but still keeping it’s dance-like tempo. The dancers started coupling off and J.C. couldn’t help but smile as Justin offered his hand towards an older woman, giving her his charming smile. With his free hand, he tipped a non-existent hat. “Come on.”

Montana spun in his arms before placing a small hand on his shoulder, the other sliding into his. She lea him in the quick dance steps, gazing up at him, looking the most free since the start of the night. He quickly kissed her, earning a gasp from her as he spun and dipped her along with the other couples. Her hair flew back into her face as she straightened herself.

“Sorry,” J.C. laughed, using his hands to brush her hair away from her face.

“Don’t apologize,” Montana replied. She set her head on his chest. “I needed this.” JC kissed the top of her head, holding her close.