“I won’t lie. I’m a little scared.” I huff out a laugh because it’s true. “No, I’m a lot scared, but you were right. There are some things you can’t unsee. Watching you jog up that loading ramp, I’ve never been more terrified in my life. Then, seeing you carrying that little boy out of the hotel, and the look of absolute terror in his eyes. Your swollen cheek and the cut curving up your body. . .”
Your mark and what it might mean. Holding you and never wanting to let you go.
I run a hand over my face. “We don’t have to talk about any of it if you don’t want to. I just want you to know that I’m in freaking awe of you, and I really don’t know what to do with any of it.” I pause, breathing deep to release the last piece. “I want to understand whatever you’ll allow me.”
She doesn’t move. Not even a twitch, but underneath her shades, her eyes are absorbing every minute detail and screening for sincerity. I’d give anything to know what she’s thinking because I just laid a shit load out there.
Her chin drops, her hand tightening around the keys in her hand. “I didn’t want you to see any of that, but. . .thank you for what you did, helping save a boy. I can promise you helped save his life, and he won’t ever forget it.”
I stare at her, wondering who saved her life. An ache erupts deep in my chest that burns all the way through, and I have to swallow it away.
Maybe sensing it, she glances away. “How about we get in there and see if we can figure out who tried to make you look like a clown?” She gestures with her head toward the stadium.
Time. She’s asking for time, and I’ll wait as long as it takes.
I croak out a laugh. “Tried? They flat out did.”
We make our way into the stadium, and I feel a hundred pounds lighter, knowing what I want. I want to know Ryder, just like I told her. Anything and everything she’ll allow me.
As we exit the tunnel, the party is in full swing. A large banner hangs on the far sideline with the foundation’s name and logo. Lines of kids surround games and raffles while a small band plays in the endzone. The smell of funnel cakes and cotton candy lingers from the food trucks parked between tents selling donated items. A large Stingrays booth is set up in the far corner, where the team will take turns signing autographs.
“Wow. This is. . . ”
I glance at Ryder, surveying the space. “Yeah, it’s a whole thing.”
She peers up at me. “You need to—”
“Stay close. I know.” I can’t hold back my grin, and her gaze moves back to the crowd, but I see the corner of her mouth curve.
I’ve missed it, her smile that rarely shines.
“You ready?” I ask, giving her time.
She takes another moment and then nods. I risk it, grabbing her hand. After spilling my guts all over the parking lot, I’m ready to have a little fun.
I don’t give her time to retract it, tugging her forward and into the carnival. To my surprise, her fingers wrap around mine a little tighter as we enter the crowd.
“What do you want to do first? Get your sugar fix? Your face painted? Win a goldfish? The Ferris wheel?”
Her face remains flat, completely unamused. “If there are real clowns here, we’re out.”
I grin and lean close. “Real as opposed to fake clowns?”
She tugs me to a stop, scanning the field, her bottom lip tucking between her teeth. “Come on, Matthews. Let’s see what you’ve got.”
She drags me forward to a trailer where a set of mock rifles is lined up in front of tiny revolving targets.
“I don’t know much, Jones, but I suspect this is entirely unfair.”
One light eyebrow raises in challenge, stirring something in my belly I usually choose to ignore.
We both sit on a stool, Ryder surveying the surrounding area again before taking aim.
She peeks at me, a slight smirk appearing. “Don’t forget to breathe, Hotshot.”
I square my shoulders, placing the butt of the gun against me, knowing I don’t have a chance in hell with this woman, but I want one.
Ryder kicks my ass, hitting every single bullseye. She stands, turning to me like she didn’t even try. “Matthews, you not only need a little sparing practice, you need some time at the range.” She bites the corner of her lip, preventing her smile from breaking free.
