Page 10 of Wild Weekend
“I don’t believe people just change like that.” Will isn’t letting it go.
“You don’t think people can change? You don’t think people deserve a second chance?” I hold my breath, waiting for his answer.
“With a good reason, perhaps. But most people don’t change.”
I take a sip of my coffee, taking in his words. In the clean cut world he comes from, perhaps people don’t change. But I believe in second chances. I’ve had one myself.
Will’s face lights up, and I follow his gaze.
On this side of the field is a row of carnival games. In the stall on the end, a large man with an American flag emblazoned on his leather jacket is handing over three balls to a gangly kid.
“You want a try at the coconut shy?” The disapproving look is gone, and Will is relaxed and smiling.
I should walk away; I have no business being attracted to a man like Will. But his smile is infectious, and instead of walking away, I follow him to the coconut shy.
Will buys us each a turn and hands me the first ball. He holds my coffee while I take aim at the coconut.
The first one goes too far left, and I try again. The second one misses, and the third skims the coconut but it doesn’t fall. “So close!”
“But not close enough,” the man running the stall croons.
“Let me try.” I hold the coffees while Will takes the balls.
He half crouches as he assesses the angle. Then he plants one foot in front of the other and takes his time aiming. I use the opportunity to watch him.
He’s tall, at least six feet, and his shoulders are broad. Under his leather jacket, he wears a tight white t-shirt that shows off a muscular chest.
He fixes the coconut with a look of determination, taking his time to focus. I wonder what it would be like to have his attention focused on me. A delicious shiver runs down my spine.
His hands are big and strong, and I bet he knows how to use them on a woman. The hairs on my arms stand on end thinking about it. It’s been far too long since a man got close to me. And now my body is going crazy for the first good-looking one who pays me attention.
I need to get a grip. Or maybe I need to let go. I’m not sure which.
Will throws the ball and it skims the coconut. The coconut wobbles and drops to the ground with a thud.
He takes his time with the next one, adjusting his stance. This time he knocks it clear off the stand.
I cheer, and the man behind the stall scowls. I take it he doesn’t like people to win.
Will throws the next ball, and the next coconut falls to the ground. He turns to me, grinning, and the smile is infectious.
“Choose any of the prizes on the left,” the man mutters.
“Which one do you want?” Will asks me.
“Me?” The prizes are oversized stuffed animals, the kind of thing Cleo’s kids would love. “Don’t you have anyone you want to give it to?”
He fixes me with an intense look that makes the back of my knees tremble. “Yes. You.”
His eyes are dancing, and when he looks at me like that my panties dampen and I squeeze my thighs together.
I quickly turn back to the stall owner. “I’ll take the giraffe.” Nina will love it.
He hands over the giraffe, and now I’ve got this big thing to lug around with me. We continue down the stalls, stopping to play each carnival game.
Will is easy to talk to and he’s good at these games, especially the shooting ones.
“Where did you learn to shoot?” I ask after he knocks down three yellow duckies in a row with an air rifle.
