Blake fished in his front pocket for more tickets to buy another beer, and came up short. "Be back in a minute,'' he called as he tugged his wallet out of the back pocket of his jean shorts.
Pulling out a twenty, he tucked sideways past a family, sidestepping back to avoid being hit by their wagon with a toddler inside.
His butt bumped a booth. Turning to apologize, he found a woman at a fund-raising table with her head bowed while she cracked open a roll of quarters on her cash tray.
She looked up. "Can I help you?"
And that was it. He fell hard and fast in spite of three seconds earlier being certain happily-ever-after was at least five or more years away once he quit active field ops. He could almost feel the hammer in his hand as he nailed pickets into the ground.
He'd seen prettier. He'd had hotter. But never had he met someone so damned sexy and perfect.
Her short brown hair lifted around her face with the wind blowing in off the ocean. Even sitting, she didn't seem too tall or too short in comparison to the older woman working next to her. Average height, slim body with hints of understated curves in khaki shorts and an Earth-Day
T-shirt. Brown eyes and brown hair.
She was maybe a couple years older than him, with even features in a slim face. Nothing out of the ordinary. Yet, here he stood like an infatuated dork checking out her bare ring finger while sweaty tourists jostled past him.
"Can I help you?" she repeated with a smile.
Her lips weren't particularly sultry, but somehow that just made him want to kiss them until they plumped.
He made his move. "Go to lunch with me—'' he paused to glance down at her name tag "—Sydney."
She blinked fast, startled but not outwardly offended. Hoo-ya. He had enough challenges on the job. For once, he wanted something in his life that was simple. Straightforward. Uncomplicated.
She emptied quarters into the tray. "I don't know your name.''
"Blake Gardner. I'll even leave ID and a blood sample with your friend."
She laughed, a light gliding sound that blew away cobwebs. "I have to work the booth. I only just got here.''
"When does your shift end?''
"At four."
Three hours from now.
The older woman in a soccer-mom shirt next to Sydney leaned closer. "Or when she sells out her roll of tickets."
"Fair enough.'' Blatantly canvassing or not, the woman had offered him a three-hour reprieve.
Blake emptied his wallet of two hundred dollars and thanked the sweet Lord in heaven for credit cards or this would be a bust date from the get-go.
Sydney shoved his money back to him. "This is incredibly generous, but I would feel bad. We can just meet at four."
"What kind of fund-raiser for the—" he glanced down at the plastic drape over the front of her table and read "—National Wildlife Fund are you, lady?"
He turned to his soccer-mom ally and passed his money, garnering himself a roll of tickets that he promptly gave to a young mother standing behind him in line with two children.
Sydney laughed away a few more of his cobwebs. "You're good."
He sure hoped so. "Where do you want to go for lunch?"
She shoved to her feet. Hoo-ya. And snagged up her purse. "How about I treat you to lunch and we can both watch the air show together since you just gave away two hundred dollars' worth of chances to win a new truck?"
A truck? Ouch. But well worth it for a chance with Sydney. "Sounds great.''
Filing in beside her, he knew they wouldn't go home together tonight, but would one day soon once they knew each other better. Something he intended to accelerate as fast as he could.