Page 31

She puts the air gun down and turns in my arms. My hands fall to her hips.

Skye is all smiles.

“I guess it's safe to say I won’t be applying for a sniper job anytime soon.”

Our faces are inches apart, and the urge to kiss her is almost painful. I lean into her when some kids bump into me, trying to squeeze into the spot Skye just vacated, and the moment is broken. It’s probably for the best. It would have been the least-PG kiss in the history of kisses, and we are in a very PG place.

Her stomach growls so loudly, the kids who just bumped into me give me a dirty look as if I did it. One of her hands goes to her stomach and the other covers her mouth. Her eyes widen in surprise. We stare at each other for all of three seconds before busting out in loud laughter.

I take her hand and grab the giant Minion I won for her in the target shooting game. I didn’t feel the need to tell the guy manning the game that I’m a cop and an expert marksman.

“Let’s go, woman. I’ll feed you. I’m getting hungry too.”

“I’m so sorry.”

She begins to apologize, but I stop her.

“Don’t. I’m obviously failing the feeding part of this date. It’s entirely my fault.”

“I didn’t even think I was hungry until my stomach decided to let me know it was not happy.”

She looks at me with the sweetest of smiles.

“Thank you, Logan. I can’t remember the last time I had this much fun.”

It hits me then. Her words unveil something in me. Something that has been missing. A need, a want I didn’t know I had. I’ve never been this carefree. I’ve never laughed this much or had so much fun with anyone. Not even as a kid.

My entire life had been so carefully orchestrated that there was never any room for spontaneity. And even after I was out of my father’s reach, his influence continued to mold me. To dictate my behavior, to make up my mind for me.

The realization nearly knocks me on my ass and I do an internal shake-off. I’ll revisit this later, when I’m alone.

“So, how do you feel about tacos?”

Her stomach grumbles again. I place my hand over it and she tightens the muscles there.

“Okay, one rumble for yes, two rumbles for no?”

The sound of happiness spills out of her lips and fills my heart. For everyone else, it may have just sounded like a laugh.

“Yes. I love tacos.”

“Great! Let’s put your yellow friend in the truck and go for a little ride. I know a great place not far from here.”

“His name is Stuart.”

“You named it already?”

“No, that’s his actual name.”

“You know the Minions’ names?”

“Don’t you?” She smiles.

“I work with kids. Minions are very popular.”

I unlock the doors with the remote and open hers first. My hands go to her hips to help her into the truck. I miss the touch the second I let go. I walk around the hood and open the back door to toss the minion inside.

“Can you please put a seatbelt on him?”