It Started With a Kiss (Insta-Spark) - Page 40

“I pull on my hair and my hands sweat.” I winked. “If it’s really bad, I grab pretty girls with silvery-green eyes and kiss them senseless.”

She giggle-snorted, picking up her wineglass, taking a sip.

Needing to reassure her, I pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead. “I guess since your dad is so far away, I’d better take over making sure to keep your supplies up.”

She looked pleased.

“One more.”

Her brow furrowed. “I hate clowns.”

I bit back my smile. “Any particular reason why?”

“I was never a big fan. I always found them scary. But my dad took me to the circus when I was young, and somehow I got lost.”

“Oh.”

“I wandered around, and I ended up in the clown tent.”

I could feel her tensing up, relating the story. I slipped my arm around her shoulders, rubbing circles on her silky skin. “What happened?”

“They were all in various stages of getting ready for the show. It was all a bit much for me. The makeup, the wigs, the costumes—some with their faces half-done.” She shuddered. “They were trying to be helpful, but a few of them were just too close and tried too hard. Laughing, teasing, making balloon animals, and pulling things from their pockets to try to keep me entertained. They were terrifying to a little girl,” she informed me, dead serious, adding, “and loud. Ugh. Scary, scary little buggers.”

I glanced away, trying not to laugh; even though I knew it was a painful memory for her. I cleared my throat.

“But they found your dad?”

“Yes.”

“And you’ve never got over it.”

“No.” She shook her head, regarding me knowingly. “You can laugh. I know it’s funny.”

I let out a chuckle. “I’m sorry.”

“I was worried the day we met . . . about that.”

“About wh

at?”

“That maybe you were a closet clown or something.”

This time I couldn’t stop it. I began to laugh, my chest aching from suppressing the sound. I loved the way her mind worked.

She laughed with me, rolling her eyes at her own silliness.

I kissed her hard. “I guarantee you I am not, nor ever will be, a closet clown. I’m not overly fond of them myself, so you’re safe.”

“Good to know.”

“I promise to keep any wandering clowns away from you, Sprite, and I will never take you to the circus.” I lowered my head, meeting her gaze. “And for future reference, we won’t have any of the scary buggers at our kids’ birthday parties, okay?”

At my remark, her mouth formed an O in surprise, but it earned me another of her kisses.

The waitress appeared with our food, setting it down in front of us.

Avery thanked her warmly, smiling kindly when she asked for more water.

Tags: Melanie Moreland Romance
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