But his tail hits the nearest display table. It shakes and wobbles. I reach a hand out to steady it.
“Ian!” Miss Bettie warns.
A single cupcake topples off the edge of the table. I don’t know why I reach my hand out and grab it. It would have been smarter to just let it fall. But the instinct to save the day has me catching it and squeezing with an iron grip. Bright yellow frosting squishes through my fingers.
“Fantastic,” I mutter.
I let the cupcake go and shake my hand, knocking off the biggest blob of frosting. Though a lot is left clinging to my skin.
“That could have been a disaster!” Miss Bettie says.
It would have been. Miss Bettie is best described as petite. Barrel would have dusted her.
“Does anyone have any rope or a dog leash or anything?” I ask. I’m a little breathless from the run and a lot in need of a napkin.
I rub the back of Barrel’s head with my clean hand to let him know my intentions are good.
There is a scramble from the nearby booths until someone produces a dog leash. I’m clipping it on right as Winnie approaches. Unlike me, she’s not even breathless.
She’s also…gorgeous.
When she was tucked behind the steering wheel of the truck, her floppy-eared dog in her lap vying for my attention, I hadn’t gotten an unobstructed view of her. Just a glimpse of dark hair, big brown eyes, and a wrinkled up nose.
“Oh my gosh!” she exclaims. “Thank you! I can’t believe he managed to open the window and then just jumped right out.”
I’m staring at long legs, a narrow waist, thick and wavy dark hair, and a sunny smile. She has a full mouth, high cheekbones, and graceful hands that reach out to rub both sides of Barrel’s muzzle.
Under the best of circumstances no one would accuse me of being a flirt or a charming playboy type like my brothers, and right now I’m feeling awkward as hell.
Being on the ground doesn’t help.
But I manage to untie my tongue. “Barrel is obviously both brilliant and hungry.”
Winnie laughs. “Brilliant is pushing it. I think it was dumb luck. Hungry I can agree with. He’s always hungry.”
“I’m right there with you, Barrel,” I say, patting my stomach as proof. “I can’t wait to dig into everything being served at the festival.”
“Then I’ll leave you to it. Thank you so much for your help.” She smiles at me, then goes down on her haunches. “Naughty boy!” she says to Barrel, though it sounds like anything but an admonishment.
It sounds like she thinks he’s fucking adorable, which I can admit, he is. I love dogs and clearly so does she.
The corn dog is long gone and Barrel’s tongue is out. He’s probably thirsty from back-to-back deep fried hot dogs.
I move to stand up at the same time Winnie tries to take the leash from me.
My shoulder brushes her thigh at the same time her fingers slide across my wrist.
It’s like touching a live wire. Instant electricity.
I stiffen.
She sucks in a breath.
When I glance up I see the smile on her face has faltered. She looks…different. Almostalarmed.
“Did I get frosting on you?” I murmur, tucking the leash into her palm.
She quickly wraps her fingers around it tightly and shakes her head. “No, I don’t think so…I…no.” Her cheeks are pink.
