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“How are you feeling today, Samantha?” He bent over and stuck his big clown nose close to her face. She squeezed it. The kids laughed.

“I feel great,” she said warily. “And I’d like to stay that way.”

“Open your mouth.”

“You aren’t going to try something, are you?”

“Oh, please,” he said in a low voice. “If I try something, it isn’t going to be in front of a yard of screaming five year olds.”

He reached down near her ear and began to pull ribbon out of somewhere—multicolored, red, green, yellow, blue, on and on it flowed.

“What did you eat for breakfast?” he exclaimed loudly.

The kids thought that was hysterical.

“Um, a rainbow?” she answered. The kids roared. Apparently that was also funny. Score one for the brainy assistant.

He helped her up until she stood next to him.

“Thank you for being so clever, Vanna White.”

“Go to hell,” she said between her teeth, still smiling.

“Close your eyes.”

“Bite me.”

“I should have cut you in half,” he mumbled. “Aw, come on. Close your eyes and hold out your hands.”

She did. And an enormous pouf of vividly colored fake silk flowers showed up. Then he really did kiss her—on the cheek.

“Thank you, Spike the Clown. What’s your next trick?”

“Um—I’m at a little loss right now. Any suggestions?”

“Can you spin plates? Balance a long stick on your chin? Ride a unicycle?”

“No, no, andno.”

“What kind of clown are you?”

“Um, a pathetic one? But I’m the only one they’ve got, so I’ll be right back.”

Even as he spoke, he was running toward the house. Which left her thinking she’d be doing something horrible to him in his sleep tonight if he wasn’t coming right back. While he was gone, she had the kids play a quick game of duck, duck, goose.

He returned with his guitar. His Gibson. Just in time, because one of the little girls fell chasing one of the other kids and was now crying.

He walked around the kids, playing “Old MacDonald,” getting them to make all the animal noises. He did a soulful version of “On Top of Spaghetti” and ended with “You Are My Sunshine.” By the end, all the adults were gathered around, unable to resist. It was so unfair that the package of sexy hot man also had the voice of an angel.

Next he blew up balloon animals, one for each kid—dogs, swords, flowers, even a poodle. Not bad for a minute’s notice. Finally, the show was over and Meg called all the kids over to a long table set with a bright yellow tablecloth for hot dogs and cake.

“You can carry a tune,” Sam said as she helped Lukas clean up the clown props. “You’re like the Pied Piper of rock-star clowns. You had everyone mesmerized, mommies and kiddies alike.”

“I’d like to have a chance at mesmerizing you,” he said, waggling those big clown eyebrows again and looking unabashed.

“Stop flirting with me.” But she couldn’t muster up enough steam to really mean it. Plus she was struggling not to smile.

He looked up from stuffing all the leftover balloons into a bag. His dark, soulful eyes, even surrounded in clown makeup, flared with something. Mischief? Or something darker. He shrugged. “Quit eyeing me like I’m nothing more than a piece of meat. It’s shameful.”