Page 73 of Feels Like Home

Istandoff to the side as I watch her throw a baseball at a metal target, trying to knock it over so she can win the giant stuffed pandabear.

I tried to do it, but she looked at me and said, “I gotthis.”

Fourteen dollars later, and the panda isn’t in herarms.

“Ready for somepointers?”

She huffs adorably. Plants her hands on her waist. She looks beautiful, as usual, in her dark jeans, skin tight and cuffed at the ankle, classic white Chucks on her feet and bright white tank under her army green jacket. Her head drops indefeat.

“Stupid game,” she mumbles while handing me abaseball.

I make a big show of warming up before pitching the ball, hitting the target square in the center. It makes a loudclankbefore fallingover.

“Well, of course it workednow. I’ve been tapping it loose for the last fifteenminutes.”

“Ofcourse.”

“Your prize, sir,” the game attendant says with as much enthusiasm as I have cleaning upvomit.

“The panda!” Christine says, perking up, bouncing on hertoes.

He rolls his eyes but hands it over toher.

We wander through the carnival, eating fried food and sipping “real” lemonade, going down the giant slidetogether.

We take a picture of our feet dangling in the air from the ride that spins us around on a pendulum, almost causing a return of the fried dough we scarfed downearlier.

She shoves the panda on the other side of her after we step into the cage on the Ferris wheel, cuddling close together, I take a selfie then another when she kisses my cheek. Then another without her knowing when she curls into my chest, her head downturned and tucked under my arm stretched out behindher.

“You know, I wasn’t even nervous fortonight.”

I look down at her, and she lifts her face to me, and I see a flicker of vulnerability in those bright green eyes ofhers.

“No?”

“No.”

“And why do you suppose that is?” I ask, my voice taking on a husky undertone, even to my ownears.

“Probably because it’s right,” shewhispers.

We stare at each other for several long moments, my eyes going back and forth between hers before I lower my mouth to hers, my tongue snaking out to tasteher.

She responds immediately, her arm that was wrapped around my waist squeezing mecloser.

Sugar from the hot doughnuts we had earlier lingers on her lips. My body responds to the feel of her, making me feel like a teenage kid getting hard in the middle ofclass.

Her jacket open, her breasts, covered only by the thin tank she’s wearing, press against my t-shirt covered chest. I grip her thigh and bring her leg up to drape over my lap. She grinds against my leg, and I damn nearcombust.

Stillkissing.

Stilltouching.

I’m positive I’ll never get enough ofher.

Round and round we go, coming to a stop every once-in-a-while and I’m sure there’s so much beauty to be seen from the top of the Ferris wheel, but right now? I only see the beauty inus.

“You guys trying to give the kids a show, or what?” The sound of the Ferris wheel worker jarsus.

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