Page 14 of Once Upon A Second Chance
"Sure, Jan."
We're halfway through beating the high school football team at ring toss when the mayor's voice crackles over the PA system:
"Time for our celebrity dunk tank! First up—Dr. Richard Hogan, all the way from New York City!"
My turkey leg hits the ground and I notice the sky darkening, as if a storm is not far off.
Lena's grin turns feral. "Oh, this I gotta see."
The crowd parts as Richard climbs onto the platform shirtless, in athletic shorts that should be illegal. Water droplets cling to his legs from his previous dunk, and I suddenly can't remember how to breathe.
"Three throws for five dollars!" the booth operator announces. "Who's first?"
Lena doesn't hesitate. She slaps down a twenty. "Penny's taking four turns."
"What? No!" I hiss, but she's already pushing me forward.
Richard's eyebrows shoot up when he sees me. "Well, well. Morgan here totest her arm?"
The familiar challenge in his voice sparks something deep in my gut. I pick up the first softball, rolling it between my palms. "You sure you can handle this, Hogan?"
His smirk is all teeth. "Always."
The first two throws miss spectacularly, sending the crowd into groans. Richard's laugh rings out across the square. "Getting rusty, Pen?"
I narrow my eyes, adjusting my stance. The third ball hits the target dead-center.
The platform drops.
Richard plunges into the tank with a magnificent splash, surfacing with his dark hair plastered to his forehead. The crowd goes wild as he shakes water from his face like a golden retriever.
"Rematch!" he calls, climbing out with unfairly graceful movements.
Lena wolf-whistles. "Damn. He's hot even when he's drowning."
I'm saved from responding by the pie contest announcement. I desert my remaining softballs,opting to move to the pies.
Richard's gaze burns into my back as I flee toward the dessert tables, my pulse hammering in my throat.
The next hour passes in a blur of flour and laughter. I'm elbow-deep in whipped cream when a familiar voice murmurs in my ear:
"Blueberry. Just like I remember."
Richard's breath is warm against my neck. I spin to find him inches away, a smear of pie filling on his stupidly perfect chin.
Without thinking, I reach up and wipe it away with my thumb.
We both freeze.
His stubble scrapes against my skin, rough and familiar. The air between us crackles.
"Still messy," I mutter, snatching my hand back.
Richard's eyes darken. "Still bossy."
A crash of thunder splits the sky and I see the clouds have gathered further, the darkening sky appearing ominous now.
The first fat raindrops hit like bullets as the tornado warning siren’s wail cuts through the festival’s cheerful noise.
