Chapter Eleven
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Canon squeezed yellow hair paint into his hand and finger combed his hair. He tried several times to perfect the coloring and thought he had the best look. He rubbed it to the root, then he squirted a dab of red and selected a few hairs as red peaks. The effect was cool.
“Oh,” he frowned. He should have put the T-shirt on first.
A knock on the bathroom door startled him. “Almost done?” Albie asked in a soft voice.
“Um, don’t open the door,” he frantically cleaned up his mess. “You can’t see me.”
“I know. There’s a door in the way,” Albie giggled.
“Give me a few minutes and the bathroom is yours.”
“Okay,” she sighed. “I can’t wait to see your costume.”
After carefully pulling the shirt over his head, he opened the bathroom door and peeked out, making sure Albie wasn’t watching. He didn’t want her ruining the surprise. He hurried to his bedroom and shut the door, then hollered, “I’m out.”
“Finally,” she said in a teasing, singsong voice. “You took longer than my preteen sister.”
Canon dressed, then grabbed his mask. He studied the image in the mirror, lifting the orange mask to cover his eyes.
“Done. I’ll meet you downstairs,” Albie called as she walked by. The stairs creaked as she descended.
Butterflies took flight in his gut. Could he pass as a hero, or would Albie think he was a douche? So far, she’d been a good sport about the dare. Finally, tying the laces on his high-tops, he summoned his courage and leaned over the banister.
Albie sat on the sofa in that short, sexy red dress. She stretched out her shapely legs and crossed her ankles. Mr. Doodles curled next to her. The kitten’s ears rotated toward him, and Albie glanced up. Her eyes crinkled, and a hand flew to her mouth.
Canon sucked in a deep breath, puffed out his chest, and strutted down the stairs.
She giggled as her gaze raked him from head to toe, then back up again. Canon must really be Fire Man because heat pooled in his torso and if he farted, he’d probably burn the house down. He would never admit it to B.J., though.
“Oh, my God. Let’s see. Red Converse with realistic-looking fire socks. Those are cool. Red basketball shorts, shirt with an F ringed in flames. Again, very cool. I love your hair.” She stepped toward him and reached out to touch it, but thought better of it and lowered her hand again. She gasped. “Your eyes!”
Canon smirked and leaned in, staring into her hazel gaze.
“I love it! They are so freaky. It looks like there’s fire in your eyes,” she clapped.
“They’re contacts. Don’t let me rub my eyes or I might lose one.”
Albie nodded. She tapped her chin, studying the F on his chest. “I have a date with a superhero. Which one? F for Flame Man?”
Canon shook his head.
“Flame Resistant? Flame Broiled? or Flame Retardant?” she guessed.
“Don’t even say the word retardant to B.J. He would have a field day with that one.” Canon doubled over, laughing. When he sobered, he asked, “Do you give up?”
She nodded. “Tell me. Who are you?”
Canon squared, then thrust his shoulders out, striking a pose with his hands on his hips. “My fair lady, you have given many heartfelt attempts, but you have failed to identify me correctly. Since I am unnamed, I will keep my identity hidden until such time as my powers are needed.”
“You aren’t going to tell me?” Albie jutted out her bottom lip, leaned against him, and traced the F on his chest. Her fingertip tickled and scorched as it slid over his skin. Fire was Albie’s superpower, not his.
“I’m sorry,” He bonked her nose and moved toward the door.
She placed her hands on his hips. “I’ll figure it out.”
“I hope so.”
Canon had made a reservation at the Pink Taco Mexican restaurant. The patrons stared at them as they followed the owner, Clint Torres, to the back-most table. Canon wasn’t the only one in costume. Clint wore a mariachi uniform matching the bands. They ordered food and the margarita special of the night.
A mariachi band meandered through the room playing songs. They stopped near Canon’s table, then handed Albie a red rose when the love song was over. Then a man arrived and made homemade guacamole and salsa at the table.
“Bless my soul,” Desire Hardmann said as she appeared next to Albie. “I didn’t believe it. When I got the text, I had to run right over.”
Desire appeared fresh from bible study with her pink skirt suit and gray pearl button shirt, but Canon doubted she’d been there with that devilish grin on her face.
“What text?” Albie asked.
“The whole town knows about the book club dare. And your date,” Desire thumbed over her shoulder at the other patrons.
Canon and Albie glanced around the restaurant. Every seat had filled. Pairs of eyes gazed at them, blinking.
“Everyone loves a good romance,” Canon whispered in shock.
“Tonight it’s ours,” Albie said, then quickly glanced at the napkin in her lap.
“Honey, can I join you?” Desire asked Albie.
Albie’s head snapped up. She shook it, her long hair flaring out.
Desire cackled like a witch. “I don’t blame you one bit. Your Fire Man is sizzling. I’d love for him to cook his bacon on my stove.” She fanned herself. Not one hair on her Vulcan-like do moved.
“I’m sorry, Miss Hardmann. Albie’s my only special lady tonight,” Canon said, turning on an alluring smile.
“Ah, that’s a shame,” Desire pouted her glossy lips. She nudged Albie’s shoulder and said loudly, “If I were you, I’d let your Fire Man use his magic hose on you.” She wiggled her eyebrows, then cackled again.
In unison, the restaurant burst into laughter. Desire departed and joined another table.
“Do you have a magic hose, Fire Man ?” Albie asked, blushing the same shade of red as her dress.
“You got it! Nice.” Canon’s eyes widened. “Oh, I mean about the name.”
She giggled.
“Look.” Canon raised his hand, drawing her gaze. He snapped his fingers and a small flame appeared.
“Wow! Fire Man, you are pretty hot.”
Canon’s face felt as hot as when he ate the spicy salsa. He snapped again, extinguishing the flame.
“How’d you do that?” She canted her head, her inquisitive gaze focused on his hand.
“I can’t—”
“A magician doesn’t reveal his tricks,” she said, crossing her arms and leaning backward.
Canon shook his head. “It’s not that. I’m not a magician or I’d be happy to tell you, but I’m a hero. I was born this way.”
“What way?”
“Hot.”
Albie rolled her eyes and laughed.
The food arrived, and the band returned and played. Albie trickled the hot sauce on her burrito.
“Not spicy enough for you?” Clint asked.
Albie glanced up at him with round, seemingly innocent, eyes. “I like my food like my man—hot.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Clint cracked a grin as he refilled her water glass. “Just make sure your meal is scrumptious like your man.” He winked at Canon, then disappeared.
Canon couldn’t remove the smirk that had found residence on his lips. He met Brad’s gaze as the rancher sat at the bar next to the mayor. He raised a bottle of cerveza and saluted.
Canon’s phone vibrated, and he glimpsed B.J.’s text: you need a train, don’t forget.
Canon tapped the camera and snapped a photo of the mural next to him. On the mountainside, a steam engine chugged down a track. He sent the photo to the group chat.
B.J. texted the poop emoji.
Then Jasen typed the wind emoji and wrote “man.” Canon shook his head and glanced over at Jasen. Although Flart Man might be a thing after the refried beans he had consumed.
“Are you too stuffed for dessert?” he asked.
“Not if you share it with me.” She blushed and scooted over, tapping the seat next to her.
“Are you sure you want me to come closer? My fiery eyes are creepy,” he reminded.
“She wants to play with your hose,” Desire said as she passed on her way toward the bathroom.
Albie giggled, burying her face in her hands. “Oh my God, that lady. She’s so dirty.”
“Yes, and she entertains the whole town. She’s a Fortuna treasure.” Canon slipped in beside Albie and patted her petite hand.
“I’m not sure if treasure is the right word, but priceless fits.”
Clint brought out fried ice cream and two spoons. Against Albie, their shoulders and thighs touching, Canon’s heart worked overtime. Under the table she threaded fingers with his, then smiled shyly.
Canon idly imagined steam rising from his head as his hair burned like Moses’ bush. Love was magic and everyone loves a good romance.
Hand in hand, they walked toward the fountain in the center of the park. The calming sound of the sprinkling water was the backdrop as they stopped and faced each other. He stared down into her eyes, and she bit her lip, then giggled.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “It’s those contacts. It’s hard to be serious wi—”
Canon bent in and claimed her lips. She squeaked, then sighed against him. His heart hammered, and he touched her cheek. He pulled back. “I’ve been wanting to do that all night.”
“You have?” she asked breathlessly.
Canon frowned. “Yes. Before tonight even.”
Her brow dipped. “Why the hell haven’t you?”
“I d—”
This time, she clenched his shirt and pulled him to her. Her tongue licked the seam of his lips and he opened for her. He moaned and clutched her shoulders, thinking he was off center and would tip over. When they ended the kiss, he placed his forehead on hers and sighed.
Murmurs met his ears. “Please tell me we don’t have an audience,” he whispered.
“The good news is that only half the restaurant is watching us.”
“Is there bad news?”
“The bad news is that half the restaurant is watching us.”
He laughed, then said, “Let them watch.” He tipped her chin, and she grabbed his biceps as he placed a toe curling kiss on her lips once more. Toward the end, with his hands on her back, he dipped her. When she stood upright, she seemed dazed. He took her hand and lifted it, then swirled her. Her dress flared.
“Best date ever,” Albie said, grinning up at him.
“I made an impression.”
“Just a little.”
“It will get bigger if you touch it,” a woman’s voice called from somewhere. Canon recognized it as Desire’s.
Canon groaned and turned around with hands on his hips. “Seriously?” Canon yelled to the crowd. “Go read your own dang novels and quit being voyeurs.”
B.J. uttered something about college words, then Canon spied him and Jasen walking away.
“So, the magic hose grows when you touch it?” Albie asked with a giggle.
He scrubbed his face. “It doesn’t need to be touched. Sometimes it just grows.” He shrugged.
“Like magic.” Albie’s smile widened.
Desire’s witch-like laughter echoed through the night.