Every Little Thing
Page 63

Why did the kid have to be so damn cute?
“Sure.” I threw up my hands in surrender. “Let’s all go to the fun park and miss out on music festival day.”
“It’s just for a few hours,” Joey assured me. “To take my mind off my stage nerves.”
“You got your way, kid, you can stop with the emotional manipulation.” Cat smoothed a hand over his head in affection.
He grinned cheekily up at her.
“I guess we’re going to the fun park.” Vaughn gestured to Joey. “Lead the way.”
“Are you okay about this?” I said to Rex as we followed the group down Main Street.
He wouldn’t look at me. “Spending the afternoon with the guy you slept with? Not high on my list of things I wanted to do today.”
“I’m sorry.”
I was also sorry how awkward this felt. In my heart of hearts I thought of Rex as a friend, and as flattering as it was that he was attracted to me, I just wasn’t there yet. So the whole jealous boyfriend thing did nothing for me but make me feel weird about hanging out with him.
Yet, I understood where he was coming from.
Rex had made himself clear. He liked me. He was pursuing me. Patiently. Having Vaughn around was going to be uncomfortable for him.
“I’ll buy your ticket,” Rex said as we approached the park gates and ticket booths. It was the first word he’d spoken in two minutes and it was said in a conciliatory tone.
“Vaughn bought the tickets!” Cat shouted back to us, and the group started moving through the gates.
“Of course he did.” Rex sighed and shot me an unhappy look.
I grimaced.
We stopped in a circle just past the entrance to the park.
“Okay, kid,” Cat said to her son. “You’re running this show. What do you want to do first?”
Joey turned to Vaughn. “You’ve never been before, so you should choose.”
Vaughn smiled at Joey. A boyish, gorgeous smile that kicked me in the chest. “That’s kind of you, Joey.” Then that cool gray gaze of his flew my way. “And I think since Miss Hartwell seems to know so much about being a big child, we should ask her.”
Jessica and Cooper didn’t even try to hide their laughter. I shot them an evil look before turning it on Vaughn. As we stared at one another, just like always, everything else melted away. “Do you want to go on a ride or play a carnival game?”
“Would playing a carnival game involve beating you at something?”
I snorted, loud and unladylike. “You think you could beat me at one of these carnival games? You who has never been here before and I who grew up here whooping the ass of men much manlier than you?”
“Ooh, fighting words,” Cat said. “Are you going to take that, Tremaine?”
“Yeah, Tremaine.” Cooper grinned at his friend. “Are you going to take that?”
In answer Vaughn crossed his arms over his chest and widened his stance.
I put my hands on my hips. “I’ll take that as a no.”
“So? What will it be?” Dahlia said. “The ring toss or the rifle range?”
Cooper coughed. “Rifle range.” He coughed again. “Rifle range.”
“I can hear you,” I grumbled. “Whose side are you on?”
“Well I didn’t know if Lawson’s less than subtle suggestion was to aid you because you’re excellent at the ring toss, or to aid me because you’re bad. Now I know.” Vaughn grinned wickedly. “Rifle range it is.”
“Oh, damn it,” I muttered under my breath as I strode through the group toward him. “This way.”
Cooper Lawson and anyone who had spent any time with me at the fun park behind the boards knew that I was hopelessly inadequate at the rifle range. Weirdly brilliant at ring toss, but terrible at the rifle range. Which made no sense because didn’t they involve similar skills?
I was so going to get my ass handed to me. Unless Vaughn was worse than me.
Oh, who was I kidding? No one was worse than me at the rifle range.
“Hey, welcome to the rifle range,” the kid at the range said, sounding bored out of his mind. I was pretty sure he was Annie from the market’s kid.
“Ben, right?” Vaughn and I each took position behind a rifle. I felt the heat of our small group of friends at our backs.
A thoroughly entertained group of friends.
I was going to kill them later.
“Yeah.” Ben nodded.
“How much is it these days, Ben?” I nodded to the rifle.
He pointed behind him at two big signs. The first said, Five Dollars—Hit Three Blue Hens and the second, And Win Prize of Your Choice.
I’d never in my life hit one hen.
Vaughn handed over ten dollars.
“I would have paid for my own.”
He smirked. “Oh, I’d gladly pay a thousand dollars to see this happen, Miss Hartwell. Five bucks is nothing.”
“Hey, guess what? I don’t think I like you stick-free after all.”
Vaughn threw his head back in laughter, and I knew I’d just lied. I liked him stick-free. I liked him stick-free a whole lot.
Complaining under my breath, I picked up the rifle in front of me and took aim.
And missed.
I shot a look out of the corner of my eye and watched Vaughn lift the rifle and point it with expertise. He took aim. He fired.
One blue hen down.
Determined now, I tried again.