I handed off the dog treats and dropped Scott’s hand like it had burned me. I wiped my sweaty palm on my jeans.Remembering that I was wearing Scott’s jacket, I ripped it off and thrust it back at him. When I spotted Rose and Faith off to the side, I shot them the worst glare I could muster.
“The prize is near the front entrance,” the woman continued. “Follow me and we’ll go grab it.”
We started for the front of the fairgrounds. Scott’s friend was at his side, his tail wagging behind him as he whispered, “You owe me for the hand-hold thing. Genius right!”
I didn’t want to hear Scott’s response. I put more distance between us.
Once we reached the booth, she went inside while I waited awkwardly, refusing to make eye contact with Scott or his friend. If it wasn’t for the cookies, I would've bolted.
“I think we’re gonna do the hayride in twenty minutes,” Scott’s friend said. “Do you wanna come?” He looked between Scott and me.
Oh, I was going to be sick. This is why I have my dating rules. This was so awkward.
“Thanks, man, but I’m calling it a night.” Scott’s reply was quick.
“Um, yeah. I’m calling it too. Thanks though.” I felt my shoulders relax a little. At least Scott had been civil about it all.
“Thanks, guys.” The blue-shirted lady smiled at us both and handed out the envelopes as she stepped out of the booth and shut the door behind her.
“Thanks.” I took my envelope and hurried away from the group, wanting to put distance between myself and the entire situation.
Wait. What if she forgot the cookie coupon?
I stopped and began thumbing through the few coupons. I needed cookies, and fast. A little boy in a cowboy hat yelling about pumpkins bumped into me hard, knocking the envelope and its contents out of my hand. And, of course, a gust of wind picked the coupons up over the hay bales behind me intoa field.
I no longer believed in Fate. And if she was real, I hated her.
I had come too far to not get cookies.I rushed over the hay bales behind me and pushed decorative caution tape to the side.
I chased after my little papers on the field of pumpkin guts. Seeing one to the left, I grabbed it. Please be the cookie one . . . Nope. Animal shelter. Ugh, slipped on the pumpkin guts in the next rut as I rushed over and picked up another paper. Cookies . . . Nope.Ugh, where is that stinking cookie one?
“Mary! Look out,” I heard someone hollering. I wanted to check what was going on, but then I saw it. My last coupon was stuck in a gooey pile of pumpkin further into the field. I rushed toward it.
“Mary!”
The voice seemed closer now, but so was the coupon. I reached down to grab it just as a force hit me from behind, sending me flopping onto a pumpkin stem that struck me right in my gut. The back of my head collided hard with something from behind.
Air rushed from my lungs and refused to return, and my vision blurred. There was something heavy on my back, and gray arms wrapped over my head.
What?
Where?
I tried to clear my vision, but nothing would focus. I tried to push myself off the pumpkin that was crushing me. Someone let out a stream of curses as they rolled off my back onto the field. Scott was next to me. His eyes were closed tight in pain. I couldn’t connect the dots as the air scorched through my lungs.
Scott was sprawled out on the ground, covered in orange pumpkin goo and seeds. His hair was matted, and his large hand that had been holding mine was clenched around his shoulder. His suit . . . well, it would need dry cleaning, to say the least.
“What are you doing?” I asked. Why had he leveled me to the ground? Was he that upset about the date thing? I rubbed the back of my head, trying to ease the pain.
“What am I doing?” Scott growled. He opened his eyes and gestured around the field of pumpkin guts, flinging orange pumpkin strings from his hand. “What in the world were you doing?”
My breath caught as I remembered my cookie coupon. I looked to where it had been. It was gone.
“I dropped my cookie coupon.” Dang it.
That’s when I saw it. The pumpkin cannon at the front of the field. The smashed pumpkins everywhere made more sense now. This was a pumpkin chucking zone. Oh . . . Scott saved me from a pumpkin . . .
“Why didn’t you come back when I called?” Scott asked, rubbing his shoulder.
