Ready to Run (I Do, I Don't 1)

She was avoiding him. Or simply not interested.

Neither one did a single thing to ease his grumpiness.

“Hot damn,” Charlie muttered under his breath. “If Deb asks, I didn’t even notice, but…hot damn.”

“What are you—”

Luke was turning irritably toward his friend when his eyes caught what Charlie was going on about. Hot damn was exactly right.

He’d thought there could be nothing sexier than Jordan Carpenter in those sky-high stilettos she insisted on wearing, but he’d been wrong. Dead wrong.

Jordan in a tiny jeans skirt, white T-shirt, and cowboy boots was…

He swallowed.

“You’ve got exactly zero chance of winning this contest,” Charlie told Luke.

The fact that Charlie’s eyes were back on Luke rather than on Jordan’s thighs was the only thing that kept Luke from telling him to get lost.

“Oh, Jordan, you made it!” Vicky said happily. “I just need to walk you through the rules—”

“Allow me,” Charlie said, holding up a hand to halt Vicky’s clipboard lecture. “No tongue, you don’t have to kiss anyone you don’t want to, and there’s a whistle down to your bottom right if someone makes you uncomfortable.”

“I don’t want you to worry about a thing, though,” Vicky rushed to say. “I’m confident everyone will be perfect gentlemen, and if anyone gets out of hand, I’ll be nearby. And, of course, Luke will be right here.”

At that, Jordan looked at him for the first time, her blue eyes locking on his. She’d done something different with her makeup, which made her eyes look even bigger than usual, and her lips were pink and plump and…

Perfect for a kissing booth.

Damn it. He had zero chance of winning the pie, but that wasn’t what had him pissed. No, he was mad about the fact that anyone other than him would be kissing that perfectly delicious mouth.

Jordan broke the eye contact as Vicky ushered her into the booth, fluffing Jordan’s hair as though she were a doll. “You’re so pretty. I just know you’re going to be a huge hit.”

“You sound like the madam of a brothel,” Luke muttered.

“And how would you know what a brothel was like?” Vicky asked, giving him a look. “Jordan, doesn’t Luke look handsome?”

He rolled his eyes, but Jordan glanced over at him with a smile. “He does, yes.”

Luke glanced back at her, then away again, lest she see that he was dangerously close to grinning like an eighth-grader who’d gotten his first compliment from a girl.

“Well, this all looks like fun,” Charlie said, moving out from behind Luke’s booth and g

esturing between him and Jordan, “but there’s definitely a deep-fried Twinkie and a hot third-grade teacher awaiting my company.”

Charlie winked at Jordan. “I’ll check back on you two kids soon. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“Which means, basically, don’t have sex at the booth, and anything else is fair game,” Vicky said, eliciting a shocked laugh from anyone within hearing distance.

“Okay.” Vicky moved around to the front of the booths, whipped two flyers out of her clipboard, and hung one on top of each.

Luke poked his head forward, glanced up, saw the OPEN sign scribbled in black Sharpie.

“Go time,” Vicky said, giving them a happy wave before wandering away to yell at Jerry Hinkel to not even think about participating in the hot-dog-eating contest with his cholesterol.

There was a long moment of awkward silence, even as the ever-increasing number of fair attendees milled in front of them, and Luke surprised himself by being the first to speak.

“Did you agree to this just to piss me off?”