Love, Laughter, and Happily Ever Afters Collection (72 page)

“I’m serious,” I tell him, my frustration fading. Now I just feel sad and resigned. “Whoever you think I am, whatever you want from me, you’re wrong. I’m not that girl.”

“Hold up a second.” Hunter takes my arm and pulls me to a stop. He frowns. “I never said I wanted anything from you—I just want to get to know you, is that so hard to believe?”

“You already know plenty,” I try to stay sarcastic. “Brittany Ray, wild child of Beachwood Bay, remember?”

“That’s bullshit and you know it.” Hunter says softly. My heart skips, despite myself. “Look, I roped Garrett into getting you here tonight because I knew you’d never come willingly on this date. You’ve got these walls built so high, I can’t even see over, but I’m trying here, Brit. I don’t know what else I can say.”

I hesitate, looking up at him. Hunter gazes down at me, then reaches to tuck a lock of my hair behind my ear. “One date,” he says, smiling. “Give us that much, at least. Please?”

The word is my undoing—and the look of boyish hope in his eyes.

One date, pretending like this can be something real. One date, having Hunter all to myself.

The promise is intoxicating.

I nod.

Hunter lights up. “I promise, this date is going to blow your socks off,” he declares.

I give a rueful smile, still cautious. “It won't have much competition.” I reply, wondering what the hell I've just agreed to. “In fact, make that zero.”

“What do you mean?” Hunter asks, stealing more of my cotton candy.

I shrug, embarrassed. I wish I hadn't said anything now, but there I go again: speak first, think later. “Just, you know... I haven't really done this. Date.” I make a vague gesture to the fairground rides and ticker-tape, a picture of wholesome, all-American fun surrounding us.

“What, ever?” Hunter blinks at me, surprised.

I feel my cheeks flushing. “I’m not really the dinner and a movie type.” I explain, trying to sound flippant.

“That’s a shame.”

“I wasn't complaining.” I reply sharply, watching his expression. If I see even a hint of pity, I'm so out of here. But instead, Hunter shakes his head, exaggerated, like he's intimidated.

“Wow, way to make a guy feel the pressure,” he jokes. “Now I've got to make this the best first date ever. Epic. Unforgettable.”

“I’d settle for just bearable,” I can't help but smile at his joking. But that's the thing about Hunter: even when my stomach is tied up in knots and my heartbeat skips from the nearness of him, he still finds some way to put me at ease at the same time; my insecurity over not dating now just a memory as he slings an arm around my shoulder and steers me through the crowd.

“OK, the way I see it, a good date is like an extreme sport.” Hunter begins, looking deadly serious.

I giggle, silently thrilling at the touch of his body close to mine. He smells of soap and sweat and horses from his time in the paddock, and the scent is unfamiliar. Intoxicating.

“What, you could die at any moment?” I reply, wondering where he's going with this.

“With you, only of happiness,” Hunter quips.

I groan, shoving at him playfully.

Hunter laughs, pulling me back in. “No, seriously though, dating. You've got to be prepared. And I'm not thinking of that,” he adds quickly, “Although I was captain of my Boy Scout troop, so I'm ready for anything.” He winks, and I can't help but giggle. Other guys would sound sleazy. Like they're assuming stuff about me, but to Hunter, it's all part of his easy charm.

“I'm talking about planning. Options.” he continues. “Like here, for example: I don't know much about you yet, so I had to make sure there'd be something you liked. Maybe you're a stroll around chatting kind of girl, or maybe you like to cheat death on the rides, or stuff your pretty face with junk food. Scratch that, you definitely like the junk food.”

“Hey!”

“You're right, I'm sorry, I should have said, stuff your beautiful face.” Hunter corrects himself. I roll my eyes. “Point is, all options are open.” Hunter gestures, like this entire fair has been staged for me. “Whatever you want to do.”

Looking at him, the way he's put so much thought into what I might like, what I want is to drag him behind the nearest stand and kiss him until there's nothing else in the world, but part of me is curious. What's it like, to do this––date, be normal––with a man like him?

“All of it.” I decide. If this is my one glimpse of perfect, then I’m going to make the most of it. “Walking, and rides, and all the junk food. I want to try everything.”

“As you wish.” Hunter winks.

“
The Princess Bride!
” I exclaim, surprised. “That's one of my favorite movies.”

“Really?” Hunter gives me a thoughtful look. “See, I'm learning new things about you already.”

“You don't know anything.” I point out.

“A tragedy which I'm doing my best to rectify.” Hunter drops his arm from around my shoulder, but before I can feel disappointment, he takes my hand instead, and tugs me gently in the direction of a rickety Tilt-a-Whirl. I feel a shiver, a bolt of lightning running up my arm from where our fingers are intertwined. “Come on, you can hold on tight and tell me what you've been doing your whole life.”

“That could take a while,” I point out, still holding fast to my sarcasm in the face of all Hunter’s charm.

But even that’s no defense when Hunter flashes me a smile that takes my breath away.

“Baby, I got all night.”

CHAPTER SIX

WE STROLL THE fairgrounds until sunset, and, as promised, Hunter does everything he can to make this the ultimate date. We try out rides, eat hot dogs, watch prize ribbons get awarded to pies and piglets alike. I know I shouldn't let myself be fooled by all this innocent fun, but slowly, I feel my defenses slip. I let the laughter and crowds wash over me, sinking into the simple joy of the moment and Hunter’s fingers twisted casually in mine.

Is this what it's like? I wonder. For normal girls, like that blonde Trey ditched me to marry. For the first time, I'm walking in their shoes, and the simple, safe, happiness of it is almost overwhelming. Do they get to feel this way all the time, like the center of the universe, and not some lazy afterthought?

Imagine how different like would be with someone holding you like this every day, doting on you. Caring. You could do anything, knowing you had a partner, somebody to rely on.

I’ve only ever been able to rely on myself.

“You need a prize.”

“What?”

Hunter pulls me out of my thoughts. He's eyeing the shooting range with a determined gleam in his eye. “I need to prove my manliness in a show of skill and weaponry,” he proclaims, pounding his chest.

I smile, taking in the row of prizes on offer. “Sure. Nothing says manly like a three-foot pink teddy bear.”

“Oh ye of little faith.”

Hunter hands a strip of tickets to the guy behind the booth. He takes the fairground rifle and lifts it to his shoulder. Squinting, he aims, and then fires his first shot. It goes wide, ricocheting off the back panel.

“I’m still waiting on the manly.” I tease.

Hunter doesn’t take his eye from the sight. “Hush you.” He fires again, and this time the bottle smashes to the ground, followed by the rest in quick succession.

He lowers the rifle and blows the barrel, like he's blowing smoke.

“Real smooth,” I say, applauding. He sees my look.

“Let me guess, you could hit all five?”

“Maybe.” I admit. “Ray Jay taught me how to shoot before I learned to ride a bike. Just another chapter in my redneck childhood,” I joke, but I suddenly wish I hadn't said anything at all. Good, blonde, normal girls keep quiet and let the guy take all the glory, I bet.

But Hunter doesn’t seem annoyed. He pays the guy for another round and hands me the rifle. “Show me, I want to see.”

“You sure?” I check, reluctant.

“Let’s make it interesting,” he decides, as I lift the rifle and take aim. “For every one you miss, I get a kiss.”

My hands falter. Which do I want more––to kiss him, or not?

Smash. Instinct takes over, and I hit the first bottle. Smash, smash, smash. The whole row goes down.

I lower the rifle. Hunter gives me a crooked grin. “You lose, he says.”

And with a pang, I wonder if he’s right.

We claim our prize, a huge blue teddy bear with a ribbon round its neck. “He can keep you company at night when I'm not there.” Hunter grins, waggling the bear’s paws at me with such a cute expression I can't help but laugh.

As we stroll on again, carrying the ridiculous toy, I see people glance at us as they pass. Older couples, young girls. I'm used to stares of disapproval and gossip, but this is different. They look affectionate, even envious. I sneak a glance up at Hunter, in the middle of telling some story about secret society initiations in college. He looks so solid and true, smiling that mischievous grin, I would probably be jealous of myself too, if I saw us in passing: the perfect guy, out with his girl.

They don't know the truth. That he’ll never be mine.

“So what's next?” I ask, with a hint of sadness. Dusk is falling, and the lights from the fairground are starting to glow neon and bright against the darkening skies. I only have a little while left of this night of make-believe, before reality sets in again, and my perfect date is over. “Ghost house?” I suggest. “More manly shows of strength? More food?”

“More?” Hunter widens his eyes dramatically.

“Hey!” I laugh, shoving at him. He catches my hands, pulling me close against him, and my heart skips at the feel of his body, so hard and warm against mine. He dwarves my tiny frame, and it makes me weak, just imagining those arms braced above me; those rock-hard abs pressed down against my skin...

“One more stop.” Hunter’s eyes sparkle. “Right here.”

I look up. The Ferris wheel.

“For real? My voice is doubtful.

“Come on, I know you're not scared of heights, the way you hide up on that rooftop of yours.”

“No, it's fine,” I answer. “It's just, kind of dull.”

“Being alone with me is dull?” Hunter raises an eyebrow teasingly.

OK, scratch that. Not dull. Dangerous.

As if reading my mind, Hunter winks, teasing. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep you safe?”

But who’ll keep me safe from him?

“Fine.” I agree, not seeing a way to say no without revealing my feelings. Better we’re up there in a tiny carriage than down here on solid earth, surrounded by dark corners to pull him into, and solids walls to get pushed up against… “Let’s do it.”

The line is short, and soon, Hunter is helping me into the small two-person seat. He chats to the operator for a moment, shaking the guy’s hand, and then settles beside me, pulling the safety rail down into place.

“So you were really serious, about the ranch thing,” I say, as the wheel jerks, and then lifts us smoothly into the air. “I saw you, with that horse before... I didn't know you could do that.”

“My grandpa taught me, before he died. I always just had a way with them.” Hunter looks bashful.

“So you bought her? The chestnut.” I ask.

“I couldn’t resist. She’s a beautiful animal.” Hunter nods.

“She looked kind of wild to me.”

He nods, but with an affectionate smile. “It’s nothing. They left it too long to break her, so now she's skittish even taking a lead, but once I'm through working with her, she'll be good to work, compete, whatever.”

“I never pictured you out on a ranch,” I say thoughtfully. “I figured you'd go be a lawyer or doctor or something.”

Something fancy
, I silently add.

“You and my parents both.” Hunter laughs shortly, but I can hear a bitter note in his tone.

“I can imagine,” I tease, trying to lighten the mood. “A Covington, up to his elbows in horseshit. At least your brother is doing something respectable, right? He was always the good one.”

“Something like that.” Hunter looks out at the view, the fairgrounds slowly getting smaller as we climb higher in the arc. “What about you? I saw your designs, the dresses. You're really good.”

I fidget with the teddy bear, awkward. “Thanks.”

Hunter scooches a couple of inches closer to me, slinging his arm around the back of the seat. “You ever thought about going to design school, or sending your work out to any designers?”

I shrug. I don't want to tell him about my stack of rejections, and what a failure I really am. “Maybe, one day.” I say instead, like it’s not my biggest dream. “I like to do my own thing.”

Hunter chuckles. “You don’t say.”

I shrug again, not sure how to take that, but Hunter adds quickly. “It’s a good thing. Most people, they just do whatever anyone else wants. But you always go your own way. I like that about you.”

I feel myself blush again, and look down. We're nearing the top of the Ferris wheel’s arc now, the fairgrounds twinkling below us. I force myself to let out a breath of tension, and relax.

You’re on a date. You’re on a date with Hunter, and you haven’t screwed it up yet.

I repeat it to myself for reassurance, trying to ignore the fact we’re pretty much alone now. I’ve kept it together so far, I just need to make it to the end of the night without doing anything stupid, and everything will be fine.

Suddenly, there's a shudder. The slow movement of the wheel comes to a stop.

“What's happening?” I ask, a note of panic creeping in my voice. I look down at the cars below us, but we’re all suspended, swinging gently in place.

“Relax.” Hunter settles back, unconcerned. “Probably just a glitch. They’ll have us down safe in no time.” He casually drops his hand from the back of the booth, and starts stroking soft circles on my bare shoulder.

The sensation that sparks through me is out of this world. If he’s trying to distract me, it works; suddenly, the frozen wheel is the last thing on my mind, not with the soft sweep of his fingertips sending a delicious ripple of electricity across my skin.

I shiver with longing.