Page 40 of Storm Warning
I look down the aisle at our competition and find many other men who got suckered into ‘winning a prize for their lady’. The carnival worker taps the tips of his fingers together, tossing a top hat on his head, as if his position switched from Recruiter to Ringmaster.
“You better settle in, because you are about to have the rides of your lives.” He chuckles at his own pun. “This here ride is going to be a bit different than normal, ladies and gents.” He collectively grabs all of our attention then forces his pointer finger toward me. “There was a hole in heaven thatdropped this beautiful angel, among your competition." A few men glance my way, forcing a blush to my cheeks as I shoot Rhett an embarrassed glare.
Turning toward me, he shrugs. He knows he’s at fault for this stupid little nickname that has now boiled over onto complete strangers. His confidence is palpable as he turns toward the worker. “Better watch out with this one, bud.”
“For what? Angels have wings, not fangs,” the man answers back with a devious grin.
Rhett laughs. “She ain’t no regular angel, she’s an outlaw.”
Laughter erupts from those close enough to hear our conversation, but none are louder than the man running the show. But I don’t laugh, in fact, I can’t help the little trickle of pride that blooms in my chest at Rhett’s words. Not just for the compliment, but also because he truly sees me as competition. His equal.
“See you all at the finish line, boys.” I smile at the tender. “Ready when you are.”
“You heard the lady. One… Two… Three… Go!”
A bell sounds and water starts to spray from the gun placed in front of me. I aim it dead center on my target and watch as the number two horse, my horse, takes off from its starting line. Rhett’s horse and mine are neck and neck, and the closer we get to the end the more competitive I get.
“What’s the winner gonna get besides one of those Playboy posters up there?” He pokes fun at me like he has it in the bag.
“She’s going to get a massive five-dollar lemonade and a funnel cake onyou.” I lean forward, making sure not to allow anything to break my focus.
“Never had carnival food eaten off me, but I’m willin’ to try anythin’ at least once.” Rhett’s chuckle is a low, smoldering rumble that any other time I might take time to appreciate, butright now I’m determined to kick his ass. Not even his chiseled abs or cock could distract me now.
“I’m willing to bet everything tastes sweeter without clothes.” I flirt a little harder. Partly because I want to win, and partly because I like the possibility of taking things a bit farther with him. “Maybe a little recap from the shop too.”
An audible hum passes his lips. He’s clearly intrigued by the last portion of my comment as he turns to look at me. He watches me a second too long when a bell rings and the targets all shift either left or right depending on the seat.
“Fuck, left out that little surprise now, didn’t he?” Rhett tries to regain the center of his target, while my horse starts to take the lead. My cheeks begin to hurt from how hard I’m smiling as I inch closer to the finish line.
“From easy, to falling behind, over here in chair one, ladies and gents.” The worker taunts Rhett, and it’s fun to see him get a dose of his own medicine, because he takes it just as lightheartedly as when he gives it. Laughter spills from his chest and envelopes the space around me with such an air of happiness it feels contagious.
“Eat my dust, Casanova.”
“Not the only thing I plan to eat,” he chuckles. “I like your wager. So much so, I’m willin’ to take the loss with pride.”
My eyes remain forward. There is no way I’m going to lose this now. “Don’t you dare try and pretend you’re letting me win.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” His voice comes out smooth and focused, and though his words are simple, something about them makes me want to quit the game immediately and pretend the world around us isn’t here to judge what I’d like to do to him.
With another ring of the bells, the targets shift, and the worker laughs while singling out the players whose horses rapidly fall behind. The targets begin to shift rapidly, this timewithout any warning at all. Angry whispers run down the line of men as my horse separates from the herd.
Frustration crashes over the players, irritated grunts and moans rising from their chests as they try to sight in their aim, but fail. And by the time the targets settle back into a single place, my horse is multiple lengths ahead of everyone else. It arrives at the finish line, and many of the contestants seated there take their defeat well, while one complains about the worker giving me the seat with an advantage.
“There’s always one sore loser in the crowd.” The worker shakes his head, irritated by the man’s outburst, before walking toward us. “Something told me that both of you would be battling for first.” He leans forward onto his counter. “Time to pick a prize, Grand Champion Derby Racer. What’ll it be, Miss Outlaw?”
“I’ll go wait in line for that Lemonade,” Rhett says as he leans in and kisses my cheek. And I nearly forget that I told myself this was nothing more than a casual fling, this isn’t a date, and he isn’t my boyfriend. But something about it is nice, so I smile.
I scan over the prizes hanging around the game, each item connected to an identifying number.
“Is it possible to put it in a bag so he can’t see it?”
His lips curve upward. “Anything for you, dear.”
“I’ll choose two hundred twenty two, please.” I can’t wait to hide this in his truck, finding it will be just as comical for me as it is him.
“What a choice,” he says, snagging my prize before shoving it into a dark green bag.
“Just between you and I…did you really give me the best seat?” I question, reaching up to grab the bag.
