A Fair to Remember

She nodded solemnly. “Good to know. I’ll sleep so much better tonight.”

He chuckled, lifted her wrist for a glance at her watch, then nudged her forward with his shoulder. “It’s almost nine, what time do these fireworks start?”

She managed to keep her smile from widening from one ear to the other as they crossed the last of the crowed thoroughfare side by side. “Nine thirty.”

“Good. I only had two bites of my burger before Sugar introduced herself.”

Guilt flooded though Tara again. “I’m sorry—”

Wes held up a hand as he shook his head. “No more apologies. I can’t remember the last time I’ve had such an…interesting…evening.”

“Interesting is one word for it,” she said as they reached the baseball diamond. “Let’s stake out our spot in the outfield and then I’ll buy you dinner.”

She led him through the maze of blankets already spread out, some with coolers or chairs, and settled on a more secluded spot toward the edge.

As she spread out the blanket, Wes glanced around. “You’re just going to leave it here? There’s a half dozen others just like it.”

Tara shrugged off her red sweater and dropped it onto the blanket. With just her white tank top, the mild evening temperature felt nice against her heated skin, but when she looked at Wes, she got goose bumps on her arms.

“You’re going to get cold,” he said.

She waved a hand, warmer already from his concern. “I’m fine, and we’ll be back in a little while anyway.”

At the concession stands, he ordered another burger and a beer, while she asked for a blue raspberry slushie.

“A slushie?” he asked.

“I don’t drink,” she stated as she reached into her front pocket for her cash.

“If I’d known that—” He broke off with a frown. “Un-uh. Put your money away.”

When he took out his wallet, Tara shook her head in protest and stepped closer to the booth. “I’m buying, it’s the least I can do.”

He covered her hand before she could set her money on the checkered-plastic covered counter. The warmth of his touch almost seared her skin. A little zing of electricity zipped up her bare arm and kick-started her heartbeat for what felt like the hundredth time since she’d met him. When she looked up into his eyes, her breath caught in her throat.

“It’s just a slush,” he argued.

“Okay, but I’m getting an elephant ear at the next stand,” she stated.

“I don’t care.”

“And some cotton candy.”

“That’s fine.” After a little squeeze, he removed his hand from hers and pulled a couple bills from his wallet while the attendant set Wes’s burger and their drinks down. Wes leaned forward as he handed over his cash. “I’m sorry, but can I get a cola instead?”

The lady left as Tara added, “Maybe even a deep fried Snickers bar.”

In the middle of stuffing a tip into the jar on the counter, Wes’s gaze flicked up to hers. “Now you’re pushing it,” he warned with a grin. “If you eat all that you’ll be as hyper as the dog—and you’d probably break your promise about the puking thing, too.”

Tara laughed. “I am getting the elephant ear.”

Thinking about the warm, deep-fried dough, brushed with butter, then doused with cinnamon sugar, made her mouth water. Or was it the smile he’d flashed at her?

Tara tried to convince herself it was the pastry while Wes collected his change, handed her the slush, and they moved to the twenty-deep line for her treat. But as she sipped her raspberry drink and snuck glances at him eating his burger, then looked at each person walk away with their elephant ear, she had to admit she’d rather taste Wes.

Man, she barely kept from fanning herself. It wasn’t fair that she’d had no time to prepare for that kiss on the sidewalk. No time to enjoy it.

“What?”