Past the bake sale, where Mrs. Ellery pressed a cookie into Grace's free hand with a knowing look. Past the apple cider stand, where the volunteer's eyes went wide and then determinedly neutral. Past the craft tent, where Mr. Wilson called out, "Looking good, Bennett!"
Luke waved without letting go of Grace's hand.
"This is surreal," Grace murmured.
"Good surreal or bad surreal?"
She considered. "I'm not sure yet."
They stopped at the ring toss. Luke pulled out his wallet, paid for three rings, and handed them to Grace.
"I'm terrible at this,” she said.
"I know." His eyes crinkled at the corners. "I've seen you try every year."
Grace stared at him. "You've watched me at the festival?"
He had the grace to look slightly embarrassed. "Maybe."
"For how long?"
"A while."
"Luke."
“It’s been years," he admitted. "I'd tell myself I was just doing a sweep. Making sure everything was secure. But I'd always end up wherever you were."
Something warm unfurled in Grace's chest.
She threw the first ring. It bounced off a bottle and clattered to the ground.
"Tragic," Luke said solemnly.
She threw the second. It landed on a bottle, wobbled, fell off.
"Heartbreaking."
The third ring she threw too hard. It sailed past the bottles entirely.
"Catastrophic."
Grace laughed despite herself. "You're not helping."
"I'm providing commentary." He pulled out his wallet again. "My turn."
He landed all three rings perfectly.
"Show-off," Grace said.
The booth attendant grinned. "Pick a prize, officer."
Luke surveyed the stuffed animals. "The blue elephant."
The kid handed it over. Luke turned and offered it to Grace.
"For you."
Grace took it, the soft fabric worn and slightly faded. "You won me a carnival prize."
