Chapter 8
8
Two days later, the School’s Out for the Summer carnival has somehow almost miraculously managed to erect itself in the middle of the town square. I left the gym chock full of supplies and building materials and woke up the next day to a legit freaking carnival—the only thing missing being the guests.
When I arrive, everything appears to be firmly under control. Ben is striding around the outdoor space, clipboard in hand, answering questions before they’re even asked, directing the group of volunteers with his patented calm and ease.
I approach one of the food vendors and request a churro, which comes out piping hot and smelling like a cinnamon swirl of heaven. I hand over one of my volunteer food coupons in exchange.
I stride in Ben’s direction, taking the time to appreciate the hard work that must have occurred to get all of this set up. Hard work I luckily didn’t have to participate in much beyond sorting a few stuffed animals. Hard work that he took on willingly, because he isn’t a soul suck of a person.
“Here.” I thrust the warm churro at Ben. “You look like you need a sugar break.”
He studies the treat warily for a half a second before grabbing it and tearing off half in one bite. “Thanks.”
“Everything looks great, Ben. I can’t believe you put this all together in a matter of days. I think it’s time to let guests in and start making some money.” I gesture toward the entrance, where a few people are already milling about.
He checks his watch and nods. “Yes, we open in a few minutes. Which means it’s time for you to get to your post.”
“My post? I thought I was mostly here to eat fried foods and offer moral support.”
Ben blinks a lot but doesn’t say anything. He heads down one of the rows of games, expecting me to follow.
And I do. What choice do I have?
Ben stops in front of one of the booths.
A target and a large vat of water, a little plank hovering over the pool.
The dunk tank.
“Okay, what do I need to do? Take tickets?” I guess I can manage that, though it will require interacting with a large number of people. Normally that doesn’t bother me, but here in Heart Springs, nothing ever seems to work out as simple as planned.
Ben smiles, and it’s slightly condescending, but in sort of a nice way. “No. I don’t need you to take tickets, sweetheart.”
I cross my arms over my chest, flattening the ruffles lining the bodice of my lavender dress. “Okay, then what do you need me to do?”
“I need you to climb up in there and prepare to get dunked.”
I laugh out loud. A real genuine laugh, one that causes me to double over. “You have got to be high as a goddamned kite if you think I’m getting anywhere near that thing.”
Ben takes a step closer to me, crowding into my space and causing me to step back toward the ladder. Damn. Has he always smelled this good? “I thought you wanted to become a valuable member of the community. Don’t you want to help the children of Heart Springs?”
“To be fair, I never really said I wanted to help the children, I just didn’t think I had a whole lot of say in the matter.” I attempt to inch my way away from the water-filled monstrosity, but Ben keeps managing to corral me closer and closer to the dastardly steps. The woodsy scent of him invades my nose and a warmth spreads through my chest when his fingers brush against mine.
“You know, all three of your potential suitors will be coming to the carnival. I’m sure nothing would make Mimi happier than a carnival meet cute.”
“At this point, I think I might prefer three terrible, god-awful dates.” Lunging in the opposite direction of the tank, I try to make a break for it.
Ben catches me, his hands latching loosely around my wrists, our bodies almost flush.
My heart stutters in my chest and for a second, I wonder if I’m suffering from some sort of heart condition. But then Ben drops his hands as if it’s physically painful to make contact with me. My heart trips once, but then returns to its regularly scheduled programming.
He steps away. “If you’re not able to help out, I guess I can let Mimi know you’re ready for introductions.” He runs a hand through his hair. “It’s a shame. I have a feeling you would’ve brought in enough money to meet our entire fundraising goal.”
“The people of Heart Springs hate me that much, huh?” It shouldn’t bother me. It does.
He flashes me a small smile. “Well, you did traumatize an eight-year-old and almost ruin a wedding.”
“Fair enough.” I give the dunk tank a thorough once-over. If I’m dumb enough to climb up that ladder and take a seat on the flimsy platform, I’m sure to be plunged into the water. Repeatedly. Of course, my other option is to find out which dashing gentlemen of Heart Springs Mimi is planning to foist upon me.
Honestly, both options sound equally terrible.
But only one option helps Ben, one of the few people who has actually taken the time to get to know me and support me since I woke up in my own personal hell.
“Okay fine. I’ll do it.”
Ben grins like he knew I was going to cave the entire time. “Fantastic.” He holds out his hand.
Despite my trepidation about what comes next, I don’t hesitate to place my hand in his. His palm is warm and his strong fingers grip mine in a way that makes me feel totally secure. I revel in that feeling for a half a second before Ben helps me climb up the ladder next to the tank.
“I hope you know there’s not another person on this planet I would even consider doing this for.” The plank jutting out over the water is not at all stable and I have to grip it with both hands to keep from plunging in before we’ve even started. I mourn the loss of Ben’s hand the minute I have to let it go.
“I’m truly honored, sweetheart.”
I glare at him from my perch, but there’s not a hint of sarcasm in his eyes. “You owe me big.”
“Happy to cash in anytime.” Ben throws an honest to god wink over his shoulder as he turns and strides down the aisle. “We’re opening the gates now. Good luck, sweetheart!”
“I hate you!” I call to his retreating back.
By the time I get myself fully situated on the plank that will undoubtedly be dropping me into the hopefully not freezing cold water below, a crowd of people has already formed around the booth.
A woman steps up first. I don’t recognize her, but it becomes clear who she is after just a few seconds.
“My daughter used to love clowns. In fact, she even requested a clown theme for her birthday party next month. I bought clown plates and clown cups and clown goody bags. I even hired a clown.” The woman winds her arm back. “And now my daughter is terrified of clowns.” She lets her ball fly.
It misses, but not by much.
“Eight is a little past clown party age if you ask me,” I mumble under my breath.
“My daughter can’t sleep at night, and I’m out hundreds of dollars.” The woman lets another ball fly.
This one connects.
The board folds underneath me and I’m plunged into the water. It’s lukewarm, thank baby Jesus, but when I climb out of the tank and settle back on my seat, the slight early summer breeze is chilly on my wet skin. My dress is drenched and sticking to every part of me and, really, I should have been provided with a wetsuit upon agreeing to this farce.
I recognize the man who steps up next.
He tosses the ball from one hand to the other. “I think you know why I’m here.”
“I was only trying to help, Tim. Your wife is the one who was having doubts.” I’m not about to apologize for potentially saving a woman from going through the heartache and financial devastation of inevitable divorce.
He chucks the ball with perfect aim.
And I go in again.
Tim still has another ball to throw, but he passes it off to Emily, his now wife, who luckily doesn’t have his arm strength.
But Kate does. She knocks me into the water not once, but twice. I think she missed her calling. She should probably quit wedding planning and try out for the local baseball team.
By the time I hoist myself out of the water for the fourth time, I’m shivering. And on top of that my hair is plastered to my head and I’m sure my makeup has completely abandoned ship. I wrap my arms around myself, trying to latch on to even the slightest bit of body heat, but there is none to be found.
I take two more unwilling plunges into the depths of the dunk tank before Ben comes to my rescue.
“All right, folks. I think Cam has had enough for now. Go explore the rest of the carnival and spend lots of money. Remember, it’s for a good cause!” Ben shoos away the crowd. They mumble and grumble a bit, but it doesn’t take them long to find other games to play that don’t involve torturing poor, semi-innocent souls.
I wearily climb down the rungs of the ladder, my skin covered in goose bumps.
Ben hands me a towel, his eyes lingering on the bodice of my dress, which is now practically see through and clinging to my breasts.
“Thanks,” I manage through chattering teeth.
“Oh come on, it’s not that bad. I made sure the water was heated.”
“How very kind of you.” I burrow myself into the towel. “Unfortunately, you didn’t account for the oh so important detail of wet clothes plus cool air equals fucking freezing.”
His brow furrows. “I don’t suppose you brought something to change into?”
I glare at him. “Seeing as I didn’t know water torture was on the menu for this children’s carnival, no I did not.”
He chuckles, but he slips out of his sweatshirt while he laughs at me. “Take this. Why don’t you run home and change into dry clothes, and then when you get back, I’ll find a job for you on land instead of at sea.”
“You’re not funny.” I tug the sweatshirt over my head and fold myself into its warmth. “And what makes you think I’ll be coming back?”
“Because you know it’s important to me and you don’t want to let me down?”
I blink at him.
“Okay. How about, you know you need to do this if you want to find a way out of here?” He reaches up and tucks a dripping strand of hair behind my ear.
“I hate you.” My breath catches as his fingers graze my cheek.
His voice softens, so I have to lean in closer to hear him. “The feeling’s mutual, sweetheart.”
The real annoying part is that neither of us means it.