by Toni Blake
He chuckled lightly and said, “I guess so. And I’m honored. To be the one. And last night was . . . real nice, Amy.”
Real nice, huh? She supposed she could live with that. But on the other hand, something like spectacular or life-changing might have been better. “For me, too,” she reminded him easily. Because what else could she do? Be mad at him for saying it was nice? Oh God, this hyper-analyzing everything sucked. She had to stop it—now.
And yet . . . she was starting to think Tessa might be right. She’d won him for the night, but she hadn’t won him. As in forever. Or even for this month or this week. The realization made her feel just a little sick—until she gathered her strength and said, “Um, I was thinking of going to the carnival Wednesday night.”
“Oh, that’s this week, isn’t it? With the wedding and everything, I forgot.”
Another rough swallow before she could get the next part out. “Would you like to go together?”
A few feet away, she sensed Tessa holding her breath in anticipation.
“Sure, that sounds fun,” Logan said. And Amy started breathing again. And nodding at Tessa, who also breathed, and gave her a happy thumbs-up. But then he went on to tell her, “I have to work at ten, though, so maybe we can go early.”
“Sure,” she said.
“And I’ll meet you there—if we both drive, that way you won’t have to leave just because I do.”
“Okay,” she heard herself say. Even though she realized this made it much less of a date and much more like two pals meeting each other to hang out for a few hours. There would be no goodnight kiss at the door—or a goodnight anything else, for that matter. Which made her add, “Or would another night be better?”
“Nah, same schedule on Thursday, and I start my shift at six on Friday and Saturday. So Wednesday’s good.”
After that, they made plans for when and where to meet, and Amy said, “I’ll be looking forward to it.”
“Me too, freckles,” he said, and then he hung up the phone, and Amy thought: What just happened here?
“Why do you look unhappy?” Tessa asked her.
“Because a few minutes ago I was on the top of the world. But now my cats are back to fighting, and I’m not sure if I have a date or if Logan and I are already back to being just friends.”
The scents of funnel cakes and cotton candy filled the air, and lights from booths and rides flickered all around them, even though it was only dusk. Organ music echoing from the carousel took Amy back to when she was a little girl. Maybe that was why she loved the carnival so much—it reminded her of times when life had been easy, with no responsibilities, and no grown-up worries like love or lust or whether she’d get the guy she wanted.
“Do you remember coming here when we were kids?” she asked Logan as they meandered through the light crowd that circled around the midway.
“Yep. You and I used to ride the merry-go-round together while our parents stood outside and took blurry pictures of us going past.”
The memory made her laugh because it was so true—both their mothers had photo albums filled with carousel blurs. “Those were such good, easy times,” she mused.
He gave her a thoughtful grin. “Reminiscing a little there, freckles?”
She nodded. “Being an adult is a lot more complicated. Life was easier when the biggest question was which color horse to ride.”
Now he looked wistful, too. “You can say that again.” Just then they walked past the funnel cake booth. “My dad and I always used to share a funnel cake,” he said. “First thing after we got here, every summer. But I haven’t had one in years, probably since he died.”
Amy pondered that for a moment and hoped it wouldn’t be out of line when she said, “I could share a funnel cake with you. It sounds good, but I don’t think I could eat a whole one.”
He cast her a sweet look in the shadows of flashing lights. “All right, freckles, you’re on. One funnel cake, coming up.”
Logan stepped up to the booth that practically dripped with the delicious aroma of fried dough covered in powdered sugar, ordering one cake and two soft drinks to help wash it down. Together, they found a spot to sit side by side, on the narrow metal steps that led to something called The Crazy Shack, which wasn’t quite up and running yet. It was a squeeze for both of them to share the same step, but Amy didn’t mind—it was nice being close to him again—and their fingers mingled in the messy, sugary funnel cake as they tore off bits and pieces to eat.
“We’re a mess,” she announced laughingly as the plate grew emptier.
And then Logan looked at her for a few long, quiet seconds—in a way she felt in her chest—before lifting his hand and using two fingers to brush some powdered sugar from the corner of her mouth. “There,” he said softly. “All better.”
“Thanks,” she whispered.
“By the way, forgot to tell you,” he said, ending the slightly intense moment, “I ran into Anita before you got here, and turns out the schedule changed—she’s manning the bar tonight, which means I’m off, after all. So now we don’t have to rush.”
And the news made Amy smile since . . . well, who knew where the evening would lead, and she was certainly enjoying it so far.
Just then, the carousel eased to a stop just beyond the Scrambler. As an idea blossomed inside her, she gave her lower lip a small bite and glanced hopefully at the man beside her. “Let’s go ride the merry-go-round. Like when we were kids.”
She couldn’t read his look at first, and when he hesitated, she grew certain he was going to refuse—but that was when those gorgeous blue eyes widened dramatically, just before he said, “Race ya.”
Ditching their plate and his empty cup in a trash can beside them, Logan took off—so Amy tossed the rest of her soda in, too, and dashed after him. She hadn’t done a lot of running lately, so she arrived at the carousel’s entry gate breathless, accidentally bumping into him from behind. He just laughed, steadying her, then bought two tickets from the ride operator.
Climbing on, they found horses side by side, Amy’s white and Logan’s gray. And as the carousel began to turn, Amy held on to the silver pole in front of her, her white steed bobbing up and down upon it, and felt . . . carefree. Like a child without a worry in the world. And yet also like a grown-up woman with all the rewards that held, as well. It was the best of both worlds, and Logan was giving it all to her in this moment.
She’d never liked to see herself—or any of her friends—as a woman who needed a man to make her happy, but she was learning that love complicated all your emotions. And she couldn’t deny as the soft summer breeze whipped through her hair that being with Logan, with all these new feelings for him, made her . . . happier, fuller, more complete. And . . . maybe he’d always made her that way but she’d just been too blind to see it until now.
When the ride came to a stop, Logan dropped easily off his horse, then placed his hands on Amy’s waist to lift her down, like it was the natural thing to do, and she loved having his hands on her, even for just for a few seconds, every bit as much as she’d loved everything they’d done together after Rachel’s wedding.
“You looked lost in your own little world there for a while, freckles,” he told her with a typical Logan grin.
“Just thinking it felt a little like being a kid again—but better,” she confessed. “With you.”
His eyes softened on her then, his palms resting lightly on her hips. “Ya know, I’m still trying to wrap my head around this change in our relationship,” he told her, “but no matter how you slice it, I’m having fun with you tonight. I’m glad you suggested this.”
Logan held her hand as they descended the few steps that led to the ground, and Amy thought: This is what I missed, my whole life. This is the kind of wonderful, simple fun I should have been having with boys in high school, like all my friends. But you couldn’t live in the past—so she was just thankful for now.
“Hey Amy! Hi Logan!”
Amy looked
up to see Cara Collins with boyfriend Tyler Fleet. Each lifted a hand in a casual wave as Amy said, “Hey, you two—how’s it going?” She considered the teenagers one of her best matches ever.
And as she and Logan continued on their way, they began to see more people they knew, sharing hellos and smiles. When she spotted handsome Dan Lindley from Destiny Properties, looking as dapper and staid as usual, even at a carnival, she said to Logan, “What do you think about Dan Lindley and Caroline Meeks? As a couple?”
Logan just shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess it would matter more how Dan and Caroline see it than how I do.”
“Well, Caroline wasn’t crazy about the idea, but I think it could work.” And without further ado, Amy then boldly greeted Dan and before the conversation was over, she’d mentioned Caroline twice, making her sound wonderful.
It surprised her when, a few minutes later, they even encountered Miss Ellie, Destiny’s eighty-something matriarch—given that she hadn’t been able to get around very well in recent years. But looked like she was getting more mobile—she rode a four-wheeled scooter, with her daughter, Linda Sue, walking alongside her.
“Look at you, Miss Ellie—you’ve got wheels,” Amy said in greeting, speaking loudly, since the older lady’s hearing wasn’t what it used to be and she was famous in town for mishearing what people said.
Logan began chatting with Linda Sue as Miss Ellie replied, “Was time for a new way to get around, so life wouldn’t pass me by. Now, tell me, dear, what’s new with you?”
Amy wasn’t particularly close to Miss Ellie, and they’d never really discussed her personal life before, yet it seemed natural—and even fun—to tell her in a not-quite-as-loud voice, “Well, I’m sort of seeing Logan now,” as she glanced over to where he stood talking.
“Well, of course I can see Logan,” Miss Ellie said, “he’s standing right there.” Then the hard-of-hearing old woman gave her head a thoughtful tilt. “You two would make a nice couple. Ever think of that?”
Amy could only laugh as she said, “You know, that’s a great idea, Miss Ellie.”
After parting ways with Miss Ellie and her daughter, Amy spied the cotton candy trailer, and Logan bought her some—just before they came upon the dunking booth. Seeing it was currently manned by Johnny Fulks, head of the town council, Logan loudly declared that he couldn’t pass up an opportunity like this. Johnny was a good-natured guy who Logan often joked around with, and Amy was more than happy to stand by watching as he paid for five softballs.
The two exchanged some ribbing and trash talk as Logan’s first two throws just missed the little round target, and a small crowd of people they knew gathered to watch, including Jenny and her husband, Mick. Johnny yelled to Logan, “Maybe you need your buddy Mike to help you out. Too bad he’s out of town.” Mike was the pitcher on Logan’s softball team. And apparently the comment inspired Logan, since his only reply was to throw the next ball, which hit the target dead-on and sent Johnny plummeting into the tank of water below.
Laughter and a little applause filled the air, along with more good-natured kidding between the men, until finally someone new came along to try their luck.
Jenny and Mick stuck around to talk with Logan and Amy for a minute, mentioning they were there with Tessa and Lucky. “And Anna, too,” Jenny added innocently enough. “They got her all moved in to Lucky’s place today.”
Amy tried not to clench her jaw at the very mention of Anna’s name, but her stomach knotted anyway. And as usual, she hated her jealousy of Anna. At moments it was hard to remember that she actually liked Anna, and her sense of dread over Anna was only heightened by how close she felt to Logan after their night in the orchard.
“So where are they?” Logan asked. Which of course made Amy wonder if he was asking about the group in general or if he really just wanted to know about Anna.
“Lucky and Tessa are on the Tilt-a-Whirl right now,” Jenny said. “But I’m not sure where Anna is, now that you mention it.”
“Hmm,” Mick pondered with an eye toward his wife, “I remember that ride being good for making out when I was young.”
“Then maybe we should ride it, too,” she said, casting a flirtatious smile.
And Amy only wished she could be so bold with Logan—since she was dying to kiss him. But she supposed one night of passion—no matter how natural it had seemed—didn’t mean they were instantly comfortable with the shift in their relationship. If it did, surely they would have kissed by now.
But sitting so close to him, our fingers touching when we ate the funnel cake, was nice. And so was the way he helped me down from the carousel horse, and then held my hand for a minute after. It was like . . . well, like their courtship was coming after the sex, that was all. And maybe that was fine. Maybe it was sweet that Logan wasn’t jumping her bones. Maybe now that she’d gotten the proverbial scarlet V off her chest she should try to slow down and enjoy the gentle progression of this.
All that really matters is that he’s here with you tonight, and that you’re both having a nice time. And that thought heartened her. She didn’t need to wish for anyone else’s relationship—she and Logan would develop their own, in their own time, and everything would be just fine. In fact, everything would go smoothly now. And Anna would no longer feel like such a threat.
They moved on from Jenny and Mick and soon encountered a few of Logan’s buddies, all of whom seemed glad to see him and told him they missed having him around the firehouse. “Place isn’t the same without you, man,” Donnie Dugan, a friendly guy in his late thirties said. Donnie and his wife and kids had moved to Destiny only last year, but Amy knew he and Logan had become fast friends.
“Surprised you guys are able to get along without me at all,” Logan joked.
“Yeah, you’re the only one who knows how to look like he’s working when he’s really goofing off,” said a younger firefighter, Dave Leech. “I was hoping to learn from the master.”
As they went on their way, still strolling the midway area, which was getting busier as dusk fell deeper over the park, Amy thought she caught a pensive expression on Logan’s face.
“Do you miss it?” she asked him. She tore off a piece of cotton candy to eat after she spoke, trying not to look overly concerned. Even though she definitely still was.
“Do I miss hanging with the guys? Sure,” he said without quite looking at her. “But there’s a lot more to the job than that.”
Amy took a moment to choose her next words carefully. “That’s the part I meant, though. The job itself.”
He just shrugged. “You know there aren’t that many fires, Amy. I spent the bulk of my time keeping equipment clean and doing volunteer work around town.”
“But what I’m asking,” she said, a little frustrated that he was obviously avoiding the real question, “is if you miss being a fireman, Logan. The whole thing. Because . . . it was such a big part of who you are.”
Now he spared her a glance, but only a quick one. They’d strolled into a darker, quieter part of the midway now—over by the still-not-up-and-running Crazy Shack where they’d shared the funnel cake. “It doesn’t matter because it’s not right for me anymore. That part of my life is done.”
“But that’s so wrong, Logan. Because you are a firefighter. It’s in your blood. It’s what you’re supposed to be doing.”
He stopped and looked at her then, his eyes suddenly filled with more anger than she’d seen in them since he’d finally come out of his funk. “Damn it, Amy, I told you what happened that night. I told you. And I thought you understood.”
“I did. I do. I just . . .”
“Want to butt into my business? Want to make my decisions for me? Just like you do with everyone?”
She sucked in her breath, stunned. “What?”
Logan let out a sigh she could hear even above the carnival sounds nearby. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”
She felt a little numb. “But you did. What did you mean?”
<
br /> He shook his head. “You just always kind of . . . think you know what’s best for people. You always think you know who belongs together in relationships. And you . . . well, you give a lot of advice, sometimes even when nobody’s asking for it.”
“Oh,” she said, deflated. More than deflated—hurt. She’d had no idea anyone thought that about her. “Everyone feels this way?”
He released another sigh, looking tired and clearly sorry he’d blurted that out. “No, I’m sure they don’t. Like I said, that came out wrong and I’m sorry.”
“But you feel that way.” She found herself unable to meet his eyes, staring at the front of the T-shirt he wore, her words wooden and stiff.
“Only times like right now. And maybe every time you’ve ever wanted to fix me up with somebody. That’s all. I promise. It was a mean thing to say and I shouldn’t have. I’m just . . . done with firefighting and I don’t want to talk about it anymore. Okay?”
It had started out sounding like an apology, but now he was back to seeming testy again.
“Sure, okay,” she said, even though she still felt a little empty inside—in a whole different way than back when she was longing for him. And embarrassed, too. And a part of her was tempted to remind him he’d very recently asked her to fix him up with Anna—but she surely didn’t want to bring that up.
Clearly realizing he’d hurt her feelings, Logan teasingly leaned down and bit off a big chunk of the pink cotton candy she held.
And when that failed to make her laugh or even smile, he put his arm around her, squeezed her shoulder tight, and said, “Come on, freckles, don’t be mad. You know I love ya—I’m just still touchy about the whole fire thing. Okay?”
Just then, they emerged back into the light and the louder sounds of the carnival. The brightly illuminated ferris wheel stood nearby. “Okay,” she whispered.
“Let’s kiss and make up,” he said.
And that sounded like the best idea Amy had heard in a while, and just what the doctor ordered. And as a warm ripple of desire ran through her, she whispered that maybe the ferris wheel would be a nice place to do that—and that was when Logan was yanked away from her.
