Chapter 3
3
“ M s. Taylor, can I paint your face?”
Hanna turned around to see Bradley—a fifth grader she typically tried to avoid. She’d never had him in her class, but it was a small school. All the teachers knew most of the kids, and Bradley was a hard one to miss. He was an instigator, a troublemaker, and a class clown.
But as a kindergarten teacher, Hanna believed all kids deserved second and third and fourth chances.
And even though this was more like Bradley’s eighty-ninth chance, she nodded.
“Sure, Bradley. Just give me a second to wrap up with Asia.”
The Fall Festival was a Seaside Elementary tradition. The PTA planned it as a fundraiser for the school, and it was an unspoken rule that all the teachers would volunteer in some way. Hanna always felt the safest place for her was face painting. It was where she got to interact most with the kids, and usually she got to see all of her favorite kindergartners.
The student whose face she was currently painting, Asia, wanted to look like a cat. Hanna wasn’t much of an artist, but usually it was easy enough to meet the students’ requests. As she put the finishing touches on Asia’s whiskers, she pulled up a mirror and showed her.
“What do you think?” Hanna asked.
“Meow!” Asia responded with a giggle.
“I’ll take that as a win. Have fun, sweetie!”
Asia ran off toward the bounce house, and Hanna turned toward Bradley.
“All right, Bradley. Ready to paint my face?”
“Yes!” He grinned at her, and it made her nervous.
“Did you have something in mind?” She asked.
His smile grew. “It’s a surprise.”
Hanna halted for a moment. “You sure you don’t want to just paint cat whiskers on me like I did for Asia?”
“Nope,” Bradley said.
“How about butterflies?”
“Nope, it’s a surprise.”
Hanna took a deep breath. How bad could it be? Worst case scenario, she could find a bathroom and wipe off her face. She might as well let Bradley run free with it.
“Alright, but make sure it’s nice.”
He grabbed a paint brush. “I will.”
Hanna took a deep breath as he started painting something on her cheeks. She went to pick up a mirror so she could watch his progress, but he grabbed it from her.
“No, Ms. Taylor. It’s a surprise. Please.”
She heaved a sigh. Well, at least he said please.
The weather was perfect, so she let herself just look around at kids and families at the festival. It really was fun to watch all the families at Seaside Elementary come together every year, but her heart clenched. No matter how hard she tried in the two years since she’d moved here, Orange Beach still didn’t feel like home. The teachers already had their set friend groups, so making friends had been more challenging than she expected. She didn’t even know where to begin when it came to making friends.
Of course, it wasn’t nearly as horrifying as her attempts at dating.
She cringed.
Hanna couldn’t believe she had run into that chef at the coffee shop in the middle of yet another extremely embarrassing moment. The shame was unbearable, especially when she remembered how sweet and handsome he was.
Tucker .
It was a nice name. She tried not to replay how he’d said he thought she was cute in her head. Surely, he was just being nice to her. There was no way he thought she was cute—no way he was attracted to her, not when both times he saw her, she was either burping louder than Shrek or spilling coffee all over a random stranger.
Nope. No way.
But…what if he did like her?
Maybe she should go back to his restaurant. See if he really meant what he said.
“All done!” Bradley shouted, then laughed hysterically and ran away.
Hanna’s heart pounded. That surely wasn’t a good sign.
She was alone in the face painting area, thank God. She nervously picked up the mirror.
And her blood went cold.
Because Bradley had not drawn a butterfly, or cat whiskers, or hearts, or any of the other things she’d painted all night.
No, Bradley had taken the creative freedom any preteen boy would.
He’d drawn penises.
All. Over. Her. Face.
She gasped, then dropped the mirror suddenly and covered her face with her hands.
What the actual fuck?
She was going to murder that kid. But first, she needed to find a bathroom and clean up this nightmare before anyone saw her.
She peeked through her eyes and charted a route for herself through the tents.
Frantically, she stood up and walked as quickly as she could without drawing attention to herself, praying nobody saw her.
Tucker was thrilled with how the Fall Festival was going so far.
It was his first year having a booth, and he was already sold out of po’boys and crab cakes. He’d started giving away 10% coupons to his restaurant as an apology for not having enough for some people, even though he still had French fries, onion rings, and fried shrimp bowls left.
He grinned to himself as he headed to the back of the tent to grab some more cutlery and napkins to put near the registers, when he saw a familiar figure speed walking in his direction.
No shit , he thought to himself as his smile stretched wider.
It was her.
Shortcake.
Burp girl.
Her hands were covering her face, which he thought was odd. But then again, every encounter he’d had with her was odd.
“Ms. Taylor! Ms. Taylor!” A couple of pre-teen boys chased her. “Can we see what Bradley painted on your face?”
She didn’t turn around, but instead increased the speed of her walking.
He wasn’t sure what was going on, but she seemed stiff and uncomfortable. So he didn’t think.
Tucker jogged toward her.
“Shortcake?” She looked up at him, peeking between fingers. Her eyes widened, panicked. “Can I see you for a moment in my tent? I need some help.”
She nodded.
Tucker glanced at the kids who were following her. They stopped in their tracks to watch their interaction. He put his arm around her and guided her toward his tent.
“I hope this is okay,” he said, squeezing her shoulder. “Just seemed like you needed some help.”
“Thank you,” she whispered so quietly he almost didn’t hear her.
They walked to the back of his tent, and he closed the flaps behind them. She stared at him, her hands still covering her face. Between her fingers, he could see the outline of face paint on her forehead and cheeks.
Between the preteen boys chasing after her and the watery eyes now looking up at him in dread, Tucker’s heart cracked with concern for the woman standing before him.