“Almost,” Gibson said, grinning again.
I shook my head. What was it with guys and blowing things up? They’d been like this as boys, too. But I’d have been lying if I’d said it wasn’t thrilling to be fumbling around in the dark with them, doing something that was probably illegal.
“The breeze is just right,” Jameson said. He held out a lighter toward me. “Want to do the honors?”
“Okay,” I said, and he handed me the lighter. “Now?”
“Go ahead and light it,” Jameson said.
I crouched down and struck the lighter. The flame danced as I moved it toward the long fuse. My hand shook, and I was ready to run as soon as the fuse caught. Jameson put a steadying hand on my shoulder.
“You’re all right,” he said. “We’ll be well away when it blows.”
I nodded and thrust the flame to the end of the fuse.
“Let’s go,” Gibson hissed as soon as it caught. He pushed the little raft away from shore.
Jameson grabbed my hand and next thing I knew, I was running behind him, his fingers twined with mine. We didn’t go back the way we’d come, but darted down a narrow trail through the woods. Both the Bodines seemed to know exactly where to go, so I just held onto Jameson and followed along behind.
We emerged on a dirt road, the sound of fireworks behind us. The glow of the town lights weren’t far ahead. A minute later, we were walking back down to the beach, like we’d just been up to the Pop In to get snacks. Nothing out of place.
Jameson was still holding my hand, and I didn’t pull away. We got to the beach and he squeezed, leaning in to whisper in my ear. “Ten seconds, I reckon.”
My heart raced. Gibson had stopped at a picnic table a little way down the beach and leaned his hip against it. A few more fireworks burst over the water, and I counted backward from ten in my head.
I got to two and held my breath. Waited. But nothing happened.
“Well, shit,” Jameson said. “Fuse must have—”
The loudest boom I’d ever heard went off in the night. Another firework went off just in time to light up a huge column of water streaming up into the air. Some people covered their ears, others startled and flinched. Still more pumped fists in the air and cheered.
I watched the water splash down, spraying in a wide circle around what had been Gibson’s homemade raft, and laughed. The explosive noise and big splash were strangely satisfying. I had a little taste of what boys seemed to enjoy about this kind of thing so much. It was fun.
Jameson shared a quick smirk with his brother, then Gibson wandered off in the other direction, his body language relaxed and casual.
Someone off to our right cleared their throat.
“Happy Fourth,” Jameson said, tipping his chin to Sheriff Tucker. He still had hold of my hand.
“You wouldn’t know anything about that blast out there, would you, Bodine?” Sheriff Tucker asked.
“Can’t say I do, sir,” Jameson said.
Sheriff Tucker hummed, a gravelly suspicious sound in his throat. “You think your brothers know anything?”
Jameson shrugged. “You’d have to ask them. I’ve been spending the holiday with my old friend Leah Mae, here.”
The sheriff’s gaze shifted to me and his expression softened. “Well, hi there, Miss Larkin. It’s awfully nice to see you back in town.”
I smiled. “Thank you. I’ve missed it.”
“Course you have,” he said with a nod. “Fine place to live, Bootleg Springs. All right, you two enjoy your evening.”
The sheriff walked on down the beach and Jameson finally let go of my hand. It felt cold after the warmth of his skin touching mine.
“Little does he know,” Jameson said, smiling at me. “You’re the one who lit it.”
“Only because you took me along. It wasn’t my idea.”
Jameson laughed. “And no one would suspect that pretty face. You look too sweet to be settin’ off sparkler bombs.”
Our eyes were locked, smiles fading. My heart was still racing from the anticipation of the explosion. The way Jameson looked at me made it beat harder. His gaze trailed down to my mouth. Instinctively, I licked my lips.
He blinked and looked away, rubbing the back of his neck.