I faced the plates again and aimed for the middle row, pulled back my arm, and let go. The ball flew straight between the plates, hitting the tarp behind. Ugh. The next missed again, and I groaned. Nope, a sporty girl, I certainly wasn’t. My aim was terrible.
“Should have betted you,” he baited from my side, but then he said, “Since thisisa date, I’ll help you.”
Wow, so magnanimous all of a sudden? Probably because I was losing so spectacularly. Ugh.
“Try aiming for the lower shelf plates.”
Okay, then. I eyed the target again, and since I had nothing to lose, I narrowed my eyes and took aim, drew back my arm, and let loose with everything in me. The ball flew like a slingshot, striking the target, and the lovely sound of splintering plate echoed.
“Yesss!” I jumped, punching the air with my fists. Grinning, I faced him. “Okay, Mr. Hockey Ace, let’s see you do your thing.”
I reached for my bag, but he smiled and gave me his three balls instead. “They’re all for you. Try again.”
Wow, really? With my adrenaline rush, I wanted to win—wanted to break all three and show War I wasn’t totally hopeless.
So I stayed with the bottom row, and I did get all three.
“Yes! Did you see that?” I squealed as the last plate crashed, wheeling to him, my blood pumping in exhilaration. “I broke ‘em all.”
“I did.” He smiled. “Go claim your prize.”
I glanced over at the soft animals. “That one,” I told the guy running the game. “Sid the Sloth.” I grinned.
The attendant laughed, getting my Disney reference. “Good choice.”
War frowned as I took my tote from him and shouldered it.
“Ice Age,” I told him, taking pity at his confusion. “A Disney movie?” I added.
He gave a single shoulder shrug. “Didn’t see it.”
I shook my head. The animal wasn’t Sid the Sloth, but a sloth, nevertheless. Vomit green with long arms and legs and protruding brown eyes. My sloth clutched to my chest, I met War’s smiling eyes. “Thanks for this. I enjoyed this evening.”
“It bodes well for the future,” he teased.
He meant further dates, and despite my curling stomach, I didn’t rise to his baiting.
“We should leave,” he said, glancing around the still busy place. “It’s long past nine. Unless you want to stay?”
With the long drive ahead, I wanted to get home and catch some decent hours of zzz’s tonight.
“No, no. I have my sloth.” I attached the Velcro paws through my tote straps, leaving him dangling. “Now I’m happy to depart this place of wonderous entertainment.”
His head snapped to me. Stare blank. “You’re happy to depart this…”
Was that a question? “Indeed, I am. Lead on.”
He gave a little shake of his head, expression droll, and I grinned.
So, sue me for sounding so posh. In the plethora of books I read and movies I watched, I adored historical romances. And who knew it would be so fun to confound War with it?
As we headed out of the amusement park to the parking lot, he pressed close to my side to avoid the departing crowd. My smile faded, and the feelings I struggled to shut off the entire evening sprang up in full-blown awareness. He’d been different today and especially tonight, almost caring during this unexpected date of sorts. It stirred something deep within me, making me want to lean into him, feel his arm come around me to hold me as if I mattered—
No, no. I wrapped my arms around my waist. I couldn’t start thinking orfeelingthis way.
It was a disaster waiting to happen. I’d already been down that road, not once, butthreetimes.
WAR
