by Emma Hart
I picked up the ice-cold can of Sauvignon. “Because glass bottles are weapons.”
“And cans aren’t?”
“Have you ever seen someone end up in the hospital because they were hit with a can? The can will take more damage than the person.”
He paused. “Fair point. Do you usually drink wine from cans?”
“No. I usually drink it directly from the bottle, because I’m the one who has to do the dishes. Also, I’m saving water, because the bottle doesn’t need to be washed.”
“You’re a genius.”
“They don’t give degrees to idiots.” I shrugged.
“You have a degree?”
I hesitated before I opened my sandwich. “Yes?” It came out as more of a question than anything.
“In what?”
“Library science.”
“They give you degrees in shelving books?”
“I do a lot more than just shelving books.” I sat up a little straighter. “It’s an art form.”
“Shelving books is an art form?”
“Have you ever owned enough books to warrant an entire shelf?”
“No. Every shelf I’ve ever bought has ended up as the room’s resident dumping ground.”
“Then you can hush your mouth.” I pointed at him and raised my eyebrows before finally tucking into my pulled pork sandwich.
“I just never considered librarians needing a degree.”
“I never thought florists needed one either, but don’t you have one?”
Preston scowled. “I’m not a florist.”
I gave him my sweetest smile and tore a piece out of my sandwich. “Oh, you’re not? Are you just the delivery boy then?”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN – HALLEY
Ten Degrees of Banter
“Are you trying to make this awkward?” Preston leaned over the table, resting his forearms on the wooden surface. His upper arms tensed and stretched against the white of his t-shirt that made his tan seem extra dark in the low light.
“I don’t need to try. This is awkward.” My lips pulled to one side. “We can both agree that this came out of nowhere, so I’m seeing where my comfortable spot is.”
He raised one eyebrow, slowly lifting it until his mouth moved with it into a half-smile. “Your comfortable spot is at home, with your raccoons, and no other people.”
“Wow, okay, so there’s no mystery here, is there?”
“You tell everyone that.”
“Because it’s true. I don’t like people. I like animals and books. Neither of those things argue or force me on dates.”
“I thought this wasn’t a date.”
“The only date here is the calendar one.”
“If I didn’t know as much about you as I do, I’d be offended.”
“Be offended.” I dipped a fry into ketchup and met his eyes. “It’s not my responsibility to control what I say just so I don’t upset you.”
“I’m not offended. You’d have to do a lot more than that to offend me.”
“If we have another not-a-date, I’ll blow you off for my raccoons.”
“I’ll bring peanut butter sandwiches and blow you off, too.”
“Well, aren’t you sweet?”
“Not really. If you can blow me off for trash pandas, I figure I can do the same.”
“It’s a little redundant if you’re blowing me off on my own back porch, don’t you think?”
He leaned forward. “Actually, I’m hoping you’ll be impressed by my thoughtfulness and invite me in so I can get the date back on track.”
I exaggerated my sigh. “I knew there was a catch.”
Preston grinned and winked at me. “You didn’t think I was going to just let you get away with blowing me off, did you?”
“We still have to get through this not-a-date, first. I owe you a stuffed animal from the milk bottle game.”
“Can you even throw a ball?”
I finished the last of the wine in my can and crunched it up.
“If that was supposed to be a display of your strength, it fell flat.”
“I carry books. I’m strong. But the can wasn’t exactly big, was it?”
Preston held up his hands. “Okay. Go kick my ass at the milk bottle stall.”
“If you win a stuffed animal, do I get both?”
“I wouldn’t dream of giving my not-a-date anything other than all my prizes that I win.”
“What a gentleman you are, Preston Wright. Even if you have been kissing other women all day.” I grinned, catching my tongue between my teeth, and swung my legs over the side of the bench to stand.
His laughter was loud and infectious, and by the time he was on his feet, I found myself giggling under my breath.
He trashed our wrappers and put the tray on the designated stand before joining me again. He looped one arm around my shoulders like he’d done it a thousand times before and guided me toward the exit. “Ignoring all the women I’ve kissed today,” he said, barely stopping his chuckle. “I’m going to kick your ass at the milk bottles.”
“I doubt that.”
“I played baseball in high school. I’ve got one hell of a right arm.”
“Is that your spanking arm?”
“For someone who didn’t want to go out with me, you’re awfully confident.”
I cupped my hands over my mouth and laughed, dipping my head until my chin touched my chest. “I just… I don’t know. Nothing about this was supposed to make sense. We aren’t even friends, Preston, yet here we are…”
“Getting along like we’ve been best friends for years?”
“Well, yeah. This might be the only time we’ve ever been alone.”
“Have you considered that might be why we’re getting along? Neither of us have any expectations for this since you’re so adamant it’s not a date. It’s just two people who kissed, spending time together.”
“Well, to be fair, we kissed before we’d ever really gotten along.”
“Maybe kissing really does cure all.” He grinned and, releasing me, darted ahead of me to the milk bottle stand.
I refused to run so by the time I’d caught up with his long-legged gait, he already had the balls on the platform in front of him and was ready to go. I handed the woman on the other side five dollars for three balls and got into my battle stance.
In other words, my feet were positioned to be as wide as my hips, and I was ready to go.
Yes, I was competitive.
No, it wasn’t always one of my better qualities.
“Three… Two… One.” Preston counted us down, and we both threw the first ball at the exact same time.
I felt like a freaking Pokémon trainer, throwing the ball over my shoulder like I was aiming for something worth shooting for.
In reality, I was throwing a baseball at old milk bottles.
That’s right. This was glamorous as fuck.
We threw all our balls until we were out. Neither of us had managed to get all the bottles down.
“Another go?” asked the woman as she went behind the stands and retrieved the milk bottles. “Five for three balls again.”
“I got it,” Preston said, pulling out five bucks. He handed it to her and took the offered three balls. Those three were a bust, too, so he took another three.
Yet another bust.
I nudged him when he pulled out another five. “Maybe a goldfish is more your speed.”
“Nope.” He cracked his neck. “I’m going to win, damn it.”
“You know the prize is a stuffed animal.”
He pointed to the back, left corner. There was a stuffed raccoon hanging from the rafters by its tail. “That stuffed animal.”
My heart skipped a beat. “You know you can’t show that to the real ones. I think Paul is reaching puberty. He was humping my fence post the other night.”
“We’ll discuss your naming of wild animals later. Name the stuffed one instead.”
“This is ridiculous.”
<
br /> “So is you naming wild raccoons. Name it, damn it.”
“Lily. Fine, it’s Lily.” God only knew Betty was only birthing boys these days. I knew because she always let me check her babies. She hadn’t had a girl in three years.
Preston cracked his knuckles. “Watch me win you, Lily.”
“I’ve watched you not win her three times now.”
“Support would be nice.”
“I’m sorry, I left my pompoms at home tonight. I can probably find a YouTube video, though.”
“Of you?”
“No. I was never a cheerleader. I was being sarcastic.”
“Waving books would probably take someone’s eye out.”
“I’ll take your eye out.”
He peered over at me with a grin as three more balls were placed in front of him. With a few rolls of his shoulder, he grabbed the first ball. He threw it, and all the bottles collapsed to the floor below.
The woman cackled out a laugh. “You’re the first this year. What’s your prize, sir?”
Preston’s grin spread wider. “Ask her.”
I ran my tongue over my lower lip then, with my cheeks flushing, said, “The raccoon, please.”
The woman unhooked the raccoon from its noose in the back corner and passed it to me. “Here you go, darlin’. So sweet!”
The stuffed raccoon was soft and warm as Preston draped it around my neck. He pulled me into him, eyes shining, lips still curved. Except now there was a self-satisfied glint that bordered on smugness.
“Told you,” he said in a low voice. “And you still didn’t beat me.”
“All right,” I said back, peering up at him through my lashes. “There’s a shooting game just over there. Goldfish for the winner.”
He tickled my chin with the tail of the raccoon. “You’re making this too easy, do you know that?”
I shrugged and followed him. It took everything I had to hide my smile. My dad had spent hours on these games with me, telling me how to shoot accurately. I’d won these games before I’d been able to shoot an actual gun in the range, and it’d done me well.
I was many things, but a bad shot was not one of them.
I also didn’t advertise my ability with a firearm. There was no way for Preston to know that I was about to beat his ass at this game.
We made our way over to the shooting game. He bragged about his finesse the entire time to the point I actually pulled the money out of my purse and paid for his turn.
I shrugged. “Put your money where your mouth is.”
He side-eyed me but didn’t argue with me. I stroked the tail of the stuffed raccoon that was snuggled firmly around my neck and took a step back.
This was fun.
Too fun.
Damn it.
He took his designated five shots. Somehow, he missed every single time bar one. That one that did hit was so bad it only grazed the target.
“I thought you were a great shot.” I turned to him, sliding the raccoon down to the stall. I set it on the counter in front of me and handed the guy on the other side the money for my turn.
Preston took my purse. “You’re not going to do better than me.”
I shrugged. “I can’t do much worse.”
The guy in the stall chuckled. “She’s not wrong, dude.”
I took the gun he offered me with a small smile and got comfortable with the flimsy thing in my hands. I lined up my shots and, one by one, hit each target almost perfectly.
“What the fuck?” Preston muttered, handing me back my purse. “What the hell did I just watch?”
I grinned and took the goldfish in the little plastic bag I was offered. It swam around quite happily, and I held it out to Preston. “Here you go.”
He looked at the fish, then back up at me. “You’re giving me the goldfish?”
“You won my raccoon. I won you a goldfish.” I shrugged. “Seems fair.”
“I don’t have anywhere to put a goldfish,” he replied.
“And I don’t have anywhere to put a stuffed raccoon. The real ones might get jealous. Yet here I am, carrying it around on my shoulders like it’s a hairless cat and I’m plotting world domination.”
“Take the goldfish, man. All you need is a little bowl, and you can get those for like ten bucks at Walmart.” The stall guy shrugged. “Besides, you need a reminder that your girl is a better shot than you.”
“Oh. Um… I’m not his girl,” I said, shuffling awkwardly.
“First date.” Preston swooped in with the recovery and a wink in my direction.
“My bad. Well, at least you know that she won’t miss if you ever have someone break-in.”
I hid my smirk with a dip of my head.
Preston took the goldfish from me and muttered something under his breath. I think it was related to going to the range and practicing so he wouldn’t be shown up by a girl, but he walked off before I could hear it all.
Laughing, I made sure I grabbed my raccoon and chased after him. He was still muttering to himself when I caught up to him, and I couldn’t stop laughing. His face was red, and I could taste his embarrassment from where I was walking along next to him.
“It’s a game, Preston,” I reminded him. “A game.”
“You’re such a good shot that you could shoot me with your eyes closed. Me and Uranus don’t deserve this.”
“Uranus?”
He held up the goldfish. “This is Uranus.”
“Why? Because the guy was an ass?”
“You’re a good shot, beautiful, and annoyingly smart. What am I doing here?”
“Punching above your weight?”
He shot me a dark look. His lips twitched, giving away his amusement, and within seconds, he was laughing and wrapping one arm around me and pulling me into his side. “You’re something else. Do you have time to ride the Ferris wheel, or do you have to get back to feed your neighbors?”
I bit the inside of my cheek. “I asked my mom to put a couple of sandwiches out when she was passing by earlier. I have time.”
“Ah, a planner. I like that.” He winked and steered us in the direction of the giant wheel. “What if Uranus is scared of heights?”
“He’s a goldfish. He’s more likely to die in a bowl overnight than he is going on a Ferris wheel. I’m not sure they get vertigo.”
He lifted the bag in front of him so he could look at his new pet. “Buckle up, Uranus, we’re going on a ride.”
I pressed my lips together and looked up so I wouldn’t laugh.
I wasn’t going to laugh.
I really wasn’t.
Okay, I laughed. I was terrible at keeping my amusement in at the best of times, and he just happened to say the wrong thing right then.
“Get your mind out of the gutter, Dawson.”
“I can’t,” I somehow managed to eke out through my giggles. “I don’t think anal usually comes with that kind of a warning.”
“I thought you didn’t like anal.”
“I don’t like anal, but pornstars do, and it creeps up on a girl occasionally.”
“Creeps up on you? It’s not a stalker.”
“In the videos, Preston.” My cheeks flamed.
“Holy shit. A woman who admits she watches porn. I think I just fell in love with you.”
I choked on my own spit. Literally choked. Eyes watering and everything.
His laugh was harder than any of mine had been all night. “You are so precious, you know that?”
I elbowed him. “Shut your mouth.”
The Ferris wheel stopped, letting two people get off, and we took their places. I hadn’t been on this ride in forever—two seats didn’t work when you had two best friends and you were all single.
Night was falling in earnest now. Stars were visible across the darkest section of the sky, while the rest was a stunning gradient of blue to light blue to yellow to orange and red, painting the sky in a captivating watercolor.
I clung tightly to my raccoon and Presto
n did the same to the goldfish. I didn’t care what he said; I wasn’t going to call it Uranus every time I needed to refer to it.
I shivered as our car moved closer to the top. The wheel was positioned to see out over the entire fair, and that was the exact view we had now. Bright lights illuminated the entire landscape, and I looked out over it all with wonder. It was beautiful, especially when you looked out further past the fair.
You could see the town square with the illuminated water feature in the middle. Store lights along Main Street on either side of it were still on, and people milled around the street as they did a bit of evening shopping. Screams from the rides geared to the more adrenaline-loving people filled the air, but they were but a whisper as we reached the very top.
Preston leaned back and rested one arm over the back of the car. His fingertips tickled my upper arm as he leaned in. “Can you hold Uranus a minute?”
“It might be awkward to reach round there.”
He flattened his lips, but laughter flashed in his ever-expressive eyes. “The fish, Halley, not your actual anus.”
“Why can’t you hold it?”
“Can you just do as I ask?”
I rolled my eyes and took the fish, nestling him carefully on my lap. “There.”
“Thank you.” He shifted, making the car rock, and a squeal escaped my lips. His mouth pulled up into a half-grin that was entirely too amused for my liking, but he moved so swiftly and smoothly that I couldn’t tell him to go away.
He slid one hand along my jaw, cupping the side of my face, and turned my head toward him. Our lips came together too easily, drawn to each other as if they were opposite poles.
My eyes fluttered shut, and for a moment, I forgot where I was.
This was nothing like the kiss from yesterday. That one had been filled with frustration, pent-up or otherwise.
This kiss?
Dear Lord, it was like magic.
It was the kind of sweet kiss you dreamed of; it was the kiss that said everything yet said nothing at the very same time. I felt it from the tingling on my scalp to the curling of my toes. The feeling that zinged through my body was simply indescribable.
There was nothing but that moment.
Hanging in the air, sitting next to Preston, with his palm against my cheek and his lips pressed sweetly against mine.
