As Kerrie smiled and started to walk away, Dana stood. “Hey, wait. What charity am I sacrificing my lips to? You know, in case someone asks?”
“The child development center on Center Creek Boulevard. It suffered more damage than any other building during the tornado. We’re planning on buying new toys and supplies.”
Now I feel like a jerk. “Oh. Do you have a kissing booth every year?”
Kerrie laughed. “No. But when I found out you were coming to Macon, I added it in.”
“Why me?”
“Your aunt suggested it.”
Dana groaned and sank into the chair.
Tabitha, blonde ringlets tossing in a riot, came to a screeching halt next to Marshall and Eric. Marshall enjoyed spending time with the little girl, who considered him an uncle. Her expressive green eyes reminded him of Eva, Tabitha’s mother. And yet Tabitha’s warm, giving nature seemed so different from Eva’s sometimes cool, detached attitude. Marshall hoped the little girl would remain a sunny, expressive child.
She handed Marshall a court jester’s hat. “This is for you, Uncle Brennan.”
“Uh, thank you.”
“I got it specially for you. For your hat collection.”
“It’s really nice, Tabitha.”
Eric’s expression held enough mischief for both himself and his daughter. “Try it on.”
Tabitha’s face lightened with glee. “Yeah, Uncle Brennan. Try it on.”
Marshall gave Eric a smile that said he’d rather eat shoe leather. When he looked down at the little girl, though, he knew he couldn’t refuse. He looked around and hoped no one was paying attention. He removed his baseball cap, stuffed it in his back pocket, and plopped the new hat on his head.
Eric chuckled, and Tabitha clapped her hands. “Way to go, Uncle Brennan.”
Two people walking by gave Marshall odd looks, and he felt a blush heat his face. Now if this doesn’t cut it. I probably look like an escapee from an insane asylum.
“I wanna go on another ride,” she said.
Marshall got down on his haunches. “Which one?”
She didn’t hesitate. “It’s Daddy’s turn to ride with me.”
Marshall gave her a mock frown. “Oh, yeah? What’s he got that I haven’t got?”
Tabitha put her small hand on his shoulder and matched his feigned seriousness. “Later, Uncle Brennan. And only if you buy me cotton candy.”
He chuckled and looked up at Eric. “This young lady drives a hard bargain.”
Eric ruffled her hair. “That’s my girl.” He looked into the distance. “Well, would you look at that? Unbelievable.”
Marshall scanned the area as he stood. His senses went on alert. Hyperaware since Dana’s accident last night, he half expected something bad to happen today. “What is it?”
Eric gestured toward a booth in the distance, almost too far away to read the lettering. “Does that say kissing booth?”
“Daddy, what’s a kissing booth?” Tabitha asked, her piquant face curious.
“Uh, well…” Eric’s expression turned comical as he searched for words.
“Usually a place where people give money to charity for a kiss.” Marshall supplied the words, hoping Eric wouldn’t take offense. “I think that’s the first time I’ve seen a kissing booth at this fair, though.”
Tabitha yanked on Marshall’s pants leg. “Would you kiss someone for charity?”
He blinked, looking down at her innocent eyes. “Maybe. Guess it depends on who I get to kiss.”
“Why don’t you check it out?” Eric asked, one of his brows twitching up. “Might be a really gorgeous woman. I heard a rumor Jenny Pizer would be here.”
Marshall gave his friend a disbelieving look. “I don’t think so.” He shrugged. “Besides, I need to check on Logan and Skeeter. They’re watching over Dana Cummings.”
“Suit yourself,” Eric said, smiling. “I’ll see you later.”
“See ya.” Tabitha waved as they strolled away hand in hand.
After the two left, Marshall felt a pang of regret and need. Deep inside he knew he’d never experience the father and daughter scenario except when he spent time with Tabitha. He’d wanted kids, but his ex-wife hadn’t. He’d been a fool and a half to not broach the subject with her before he’d married her.
Sighing, he took a closer look at the kissing booth. He hated indecision. Used to making moves that could mean life or death, he’d trained from an early age to choose with confidence and precision. Niggling doubts had no place in his life. Yeah, so why did you allow Helen to push you into marriage when you had doubts about compatibility? Why?
He looked at the kissing booth again. Might as well. Marshall trudged forward.
Gregory’s accusation this morning and the stupid lie he’d told him made Marshall apprehensive. No, he hadn’t kissed Dana, but he’d wanted to more than once. Where had the bastard gotten the idea he’d fallen in love with her? Sure, he wanted to protect her, but he’d do the same for anyone else he believed in danger. Aggravated that he’d allowed Gregory to get to him, Marshall moved onward until he saw something that rooted his feet into the ground.
“You’ve got to be kidding.” Marshall’s mouth dropped open.
He wondered if Dana had protested about working the stall. Yep. Probably. Then again, you never could tell with a woman.
Marshall felt that fierce protectiveness for Dana rear up inside him again. Hoping he wasn’t making a horrible mistake—a big, rotten egg type of error—he strode toward the kissing booth.
Dana saw the clouds gathering over the mountains surrounding Macon. Another thunderstorm threatened. She tried not to get fidgety, but the idea of sheltering in this flimsy booth if rain started didn’t appeal to her. If the weather turned nasty she’d abandon ship and the men of Macon would have to pucker up some other time. Within seconds, something more intriguing distracted her from the weather. Gregory was coming her way. Oh, yuck.
“Hi, Dana.” His amiable expression didn’t fool her. Just being within a yard of his snake oil salesman personality made her shudder. Today he wore blue jeans and—oh yeah—flannel.
Give me a break. Whatever gives him the jollies, I guess.
Better to keep things to the point with him and maybe he’d get bored and go away. “What’s up?”
He reached in his pocket and extracted four quarters. He slapped them on the table. “Where’s my kiss?”
Drawing her hands into fists, she contemplated walloping him in the kisser. No, that would be too good for the stinking, steaming sack of—
“You know, I’ve heard that sex is good for straightening out writer’s block.” Gregory’s eyes took on a salacious gleam. “Loosens up the cogs. Greases the…” his gaze speared up and down her body, “…wheel. If you’re not getting any, well you know. Your imagination dries up right with the rest of your—”
“Shut up.” She’d found the words, no matter how inadequate. “And get out of my sight.”
His smirk increased to titanic proportions. “That’s the best you can do?”
“That’s all. Oh, and when you leave town, don’t bother to say goodbye.” Dana grabbed the coins, but his hand landed over hers.
He threw her another smug look. The pig thought he’d won a few points. “No kissy, no money.”
Dana inhaled slow and deep, trying to keep her temper under control. “Get your hand off me.”
“Or you’ll what?”
“Bite out a chunk of your sorry butt and feed it to you,” she said through her teeth.
Giving her a smarmy grin, he said, “So you can give it up for Deputy Dog, but not for your dear cousin?”
“What are you talking about?”
“He told me very, very early this morning while he was unlawfully interrogating me, that he’d already kissed you.”
Dana’s face filled with heat, and she almost drew back and slapped him. “You really are a maggot, Gregory. I never really knew how much until now.”
&
nbsp; “Pissed you off, did I? Don’t worry, your little affair with Marshall is a secret with me.”
She gritted her teeth together before letting each word grind out. “I am not…having an affair…with Marshall.”
He waggled his eyebrows. “Sure.”
If by the count of three he didn’t release her, she’d do more than gnaw him, she’d scream for help. That ought to get his attention.
One beefy hand landed on his shoulder. Gregory jumped and released her.
“Hi, Metcalf.” Marshall stood next to Gregory as he turned. “What’s new?”
Gregory’s mouth opened and closed, then fury covered his face. Dana’s mouth opened and stayed parted.
Unbelievable. A smile fought its way to her lips, and she held back a laugh. Marshall’s hat sat square on his head, a crazy concoction of dangling multi-colored balls. His nonchalant expression added to the hilarious picture. Never in a million years would she have pictured Mr. Serious and Stable wearing a hat like this.
“Something funny?” Marshall asked, looking at her and ignoring Gregory.
Gregory straightened to his full height, but his self-confident veneer seemed to melt a little under Marshall’s attention. Amazing how a man wearing an idiotic hat could still make Gregory shrink back. He might be taller than Marshall, but her wise-ass cousin couldn’t compete with the undersheriff for sheer brawn and presence. Reigned tension strummed from Marshall, and for a few seconds she wondered if the two men might argue. She tried not to stare at the lawman’s ridiculous headgear, but she couldn’t help it.
“So, Marshall, you come to kiss Dana again?” Gregory frowned. “Wait your turn.”
Marshall tilted his head back a little. The colored balls on his hat swayed. She bet herself a candy bar the hat would slip off the back of his head. “Well, I see it like this. You made your donation. If the lady doesn’t want to kiss you, that’s her prerogative.”
Jeez. What would one of them say next? That this town wasn’t big enough for the both of them?
Dana glared at her kissin’ cousin. “You heard the Marshall, get outta here.”
Gregory’s head tilted like a confused dog. “The Marshall.”
She shrugged but didn’t let him in on the joke. Gregory glanced from Marshall to Dana, growing uncertainty showing in his eyes.
“Say goodbye, Metcalf,” Marshall said.
Without another word, Gregory left.
Dana sighed in a release of pressure. Rid of one pain-in-the-posterior, plagued by another. She turned her attention to Marshall and when she looked at his hat again, she let out a small laugh.
Her chuckle gathered steam and turned into full-fledged laughter. She waggled a finger at his hat.
“Where-where did you get—” She gasped for breath between giggles. “Where did you get that?”
Frowning, Marshall snatched the hat off his head and tossed it onto the table. “Tabitha bought it for me.”
She didn’t know if she could stand his presence too long. Now that he’d removed the hat, she found his rough brand of masculinity enough to unnerve her down to the roots. She had to acknowledge how good he looked in the blue polo shirt that revealed his forearms and faded jeans curving against his body close but not tight. He hooked his thumbs in his belt loops, and she swallowed hard. Marshall looked way too good for one man. Good, hell. Try scrumptious. Try incredible. Try—Enough!
Dana shoved her fingers through her bangs as the increasing wind fluttered through the area.
She lifted her hands in a pleading gesture. “Is Gregory that dumb?”
“Dumb is too kind a word for him.”
“He’s a perfect troglodyte as far as I’m concerned. I hope he’s leaving town soon.”
“Just ignore him. I’m keeping a watch on his activities from now on.” His gaze assessed her. “Maybe he wants you out of the way.”
She hadn’t considered the possibility. “I suppose. But why?”
“Your guess is as good as mine at this point, but if he drives you off, he knows Lucille will be vulnerable. And if you can ask Lucille what she really thinks without having a tantrum—”
“I wasn’t planning on having a fit, thank you very much.”
His expression said he didn’t believe her. “That’s not all. He said something else to make you angry. What was it?”
For a half second she thought she wouldn’t tell him. It slipped out. “He said I was losing my edge in my writing because I wasn’t getting enough sex.”
As soon as she said it her face flamed, and she wanted to take it back. Jeez, Dana, what were you thinking? You should have blasted Marshall about saying that he’d kissed you instead of practically telling him you have no sex life.
A gleam entered his eyes, one that said his inquisitiveness had launched into high gear. He lowered his voice, as if he didn’t want anyone else to hear. “Is that true?”
“Which part?” She glared. “That I’m losing my edge or I’m not getting enough sex?”
A grin tried to take over his mouth, but she saw him fighting the urge. “Either. Both.”
“Why would you want to know?”
Her harsh words didn’t make him flinch. “You’re a complex woman. If a man wants to survive around you he’s got to understand you inside and out.”
A vision sprouted to mind…a wanton…forbidden picture. Marshall knowing her inside…
Every bit of spit in her mouth dried up. She fumbled under the table for the water jug and filled a paper cup. After drinking the water all in one gulp, she took a deep breath.
Marshall kept his steel-eyed gaze on her, as if she might move and he’d lose sight of her. “I’m surprised you haven’t told me to mind my own business.”
Instead of receding, her blush increased two-fold. “I should.”
He cleared his throat. “Sounds like Gregory is full of shit…on both accounts.”
Dana didn’t bother to illuminate him that she hadn’t had sex in what seemed like years and years. So long that she’d almost forgotten how. She scrubbed her hands over her eyes. “This is all crazy. Everything is nastier than fruitcake.” She gestured at the canvas walls that served as shelter for the table. “This booth is nuts. Why would anyone want to kiss me for charity?”
Dana realized the minute she spoke she’d opened herself up big time. He didn’t comment right away, his interested look coming full force.
A blast of thunder overhead made her squeak with surprise. Clouds had pushed over the park area and now obscured the sun. She’d been so engrossed in the men visiting her booth that she hadn’t noticed how menacing the weather had become. Dana thought she’d dealt with the phobia a long time ago, but the fear had returned in the last few weeks.
“I think you’d better get out of this stall and come with me,” Marshall said as he looked up at the encroaching weather.
A perverseness she couldn’t hold back made her lean on the table and look him dead in the eye. She made sure she kept her expression straight. “You arresting me, Marshall?”
“Not this time, but don’t tempt me too much.” His voice dropped to a subtle, almost hoarse tone that sent frissons of heat over her body. “You haven’t seen the inside of my cell.”
Marshall’s insinuating tone had the effect of multiplying her twitchiness. “I imagine it’s all dark and dank and foreboding. Filled with secrets.”
One corner of his mouth almost attempted a smile, then schooled itself back to serious. “Secrets you don’t want to know.”
She wondered if he’d dropped a hint. Did he mean she shouldn’t become interested in him?
A rumble from the heavens made Dana flinch, and she had about two seconds to wish she’d already left the tent before rain poured down. An expletive reached her lips before she could stifle it. He rushed around the side of tent and grabbed her hand, tugging her to her feet.
Dana dug in her heels. “What—”
“We aren’t staying under these metal poles. It’s not safe. Come on.”<
br />
Chapter Eleven
Fear raced like earth tremors through her as her phobia reared its head. She cringed under the onslaught of violent nature and her own inability to fight her panic.
As they rushed toward the Grand Cherokee, Dana asked, “Are you sure Macon isn’t really a Dean Koontz novel? Or maybe a Wes Craven horror movie? I can’t believe this.”
He tossed her a half-amused look, and then they’d reached the vehicle. He unlocked the car, and she almost dove into the passenger side to find refuge from the storm. Soaked, she shivered with a combination of rattled nerves and cold. He slid into the driver’s side, slammed the door and reached into the back seat.
Dana shivered and held her arms close to her body. “I feel like a drowned dog.”
When he handed her a towel and a blanket, she grinned. “Oh, heaven.” She set to drying off, rubbing over her body with the towel to generate heat. “I’ll bet you made a great Boy Scout.”
His rain soaked shirt clung to his chest, and he pulled it away from his body. “I was never a Boy Scout.”
While he spoke his gaze dropped to her breasts and she realized that her nipples had hardened from the cold. She dropped the towel to her chest and held it in front of her, self-conscious.
“I find that hard to believe,” she said to cover her nervous gesture.
“Believe it.” He slid the blanket around her shoulders, his warm, gentle touch sending new feelings of need through her. The close confines of the car made her ever more aware of him.
Dana’s heart sped up, an overwhelming desire for him to draw her close and kiss her rocketing through her system. You’re losing control. With effort she sucked a deep breath into her lungs. “What about you? I mean, don’t you have another towel or blanket?”
He nodded. “In the back. I don’t plan on crawling back there to get it right now.”
She started to peel the blanket away. “Here.”
Marshall clasped her hands to keep her from removing the blanket. “No. You need it more than me. Your teeth are almost chattering.”
True. She couldn’t recall the last time…well, okay…last night she’d almost frozen waiting for him to arrive at the scene of the crash. More lightning rammed overhead, and she flinched. Marshall gave her a curious look. As thunder rolled overhead, she shuddered like a whipped pup. She couldn’t let him know about the fear still coursing through her body. He’d think her weak, no doubt about it.
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