Page 40 of The Perfect Pass
She knew working this booth would be disastrous, but wow. Thisreallytook the cake.
“Congratulations,” she said, tipping her head back to look him in the eye as he came to a stop directly in front of her.
With his wide shoulders and massive build, his athletic form shielded her from view of the crowd. For that, she was immensely grateful. While they’d been playing ball, it had been easy to forget that people were watching. Now that the battle was over and she was going to have to utter thosethree little words, as he’d called them, she was acutely aware of their audience.
“Thanks. Good game,” he said, like they were two players on the field at the end of an actual game.
But when he offered his hand for a shake and she slipped her palm in his, there was no mistaking the tenderness of his touch. His thumb caressed the back of her hand, and she didn’t want to let go. She wanted to stay in that silly carnival booth and be the girl she’d somehow become over the past few hours. For a few sacred moments, she’d been her old self again.
Calla had missed that girl more than she could’ve ever imagined.
Would it really be so bad to let everything go and live like this all the time? The pretense was exhausting. How much longer could she keep it up? Keeping the world at arm’s length was no easy task, and somehow, being around Jackson made her wonder if all that effort was truly worth it. The temptation to close her eyes, lay her head againsthis strong chest and at long last let herself rest was almost too much to bear.
She smiled up at him—or she tried, anyway. But with her heart lodged in her throat, her mouth simply wouldn’t cooperate. The best she could do was a wistful curve of her lips.
“You don’t have to say it,” he whispered in a voice so low and gentle that she barely heard it.
He was giving her an out because he’d mistaken her bittersweet expression for grief, and in a way, that’s exactly what it was. But it wasn’t the loss of Ethan that pierced her soul this time. It was the loss of everything she’d so willingly given up in the wake of his accident. She could see it all so clearly now—the way she’d thrown it all away in a desperate attempt to protect her heart. She’d given up on laughter.
On life.
On love.
And for what? Nothing could bring Ethan back.
“It’s okay,” she said, smiling through the tears that filled her eyes. “You won fair and square.”
Jackson shook his head, prepared to argue.
“It’s fine. I promise.” Calla pressed her free hand against the steady beat of his heart. “I want to say it.”
The corner of his mouth lifted. “You do?”
She nodded as she took a deep inhale.Here goes nothing.“I love…”
His gaze fixed on hers, and for a wild, nonsensical moment, she almost slipped up and said the wrong three little words. What. Was. Happening? She wasn’tin lovewith Jackson Knight. She had a little crush, that’s all. Half the women in America, and 99 percent of the ones in Bishop Falls, were infatuated with him. Why would Calla be any different?
She cleared her throat, forced a smile and pretended that’s all this was—just a harmless crush, when she knew full well that there was nothing harmless about it. “…football.”
Then she spied it—the arrogant glint in his eye that she’d known was coming the instant his fourth ball had zipped through the vampire cutout.
“That’s my girl,” he said with a smirk.
“You’re still impossible,” she said with a hearty roll of her eyes. Then she snatched her hand away from his rock-solid chest and crossed her arms. “We should get back to work. There’s still a line.”
He glanced over his shoulder. “Something tells me they’re here for more than just a chance to throw a ball around.”
And that was precisely why they needed to get their booth back on track. Letting Jackson see the real her was one thing, but she had no desire to put on a show for the entire town.
Even if that was sort of what they’d already been doing all day.
“Come on, Coach.” She tugged him by the hand in an attempt to haul him toward the counter, even though there was no dragging Jackson anywhere he didn’t want to go, given the sheer size of him. “I’ll take tickets and you can pass out footballs.”
He relented, allowing her to pull him back to reality. “Anything you say, boss.”
The excitement surrounding their booth died down once carnival goers realized the show was over. For the nextfew hours, they passed out prizes, chased after stray balls and shouted encouragement to anyone who wanted to try their turn at Frankenstein’s Football Toss. By the time the sun went down, they only had a handful of stuffed animals remaining for the winners to choose from. Families with children left to go trick-or-treating, and the parking lot thinned. Even the teenagers disappeared, opting to attend the horror show movie marathon going on at the classic theater on Bulldog Avenue. The cinema’s annual Halloween event had been a big thing since back when Calla was in high school. It included a contest with awards for Scariest Costume, Funniest Costume, Best Group Costume and Best Homemade Costume.
“Looks like it’s about time to shut down,” Jackson said, glancing at the display on his smartphone just as the school bell chimed, signaling the end of the carnival.
