All the Way Page 18

  When he saw where they were going, he lifted his eyebrows. Then shrugged and followed. This might be as good as it got, out in the middle of nowhere.

  He wondered if Layla would be up for it. Hey, this might even prove the perfect distraction. Better than if he’d planned it. So Blake parked at the end of a row of cars. It struck him that this would be sort of like a date.

  Their first date in a year. He grinned. Nothing says “I care” like a carnival.

  Chapter 15

  Layla barely noticed her surroundings as they turned off the road, only the hot claustrophobia caused by her sun-baked leather coat.

  Nudging down the kickstand, Blake freed his cell phone from its clip. Layla didn’t wait for him to disembark. Clumsily she plucked herself up from the leather seat, slid from around Blake, and hopped off the motorcycle.

  As she landed, she almost turned her ankle on a thick ridge of dried mud created by wide tire tracks. At some point this dustbowl must’ve seen rain. It made her wonder, as she yanked off her helmet to breathe the free air again, which would be worse—riding a motorcycle in the rain or this abominable heat.

  With vicious tugs she peeled off her jacket, flinging it over the seat as Blake stepped away to finish his call. A slight breeze fanned her skin. She groaned in ecstasy.

  “I must be telepathic,” Blake said on a wink. “I can make you moan without even touching you.”

  Breathing deeply from the effort of shedding her outer layer, she fought a grin. “After what we just went through, that’s the first thing that comes to your mind?”

  “I called Munson and he’s on it—no more worries about Jack…for the moment. That leaves me time to admire.”

  “Admire what?” Layla swept a hand down her waist to remind him of her disheveled state. She looked up into glittering green eyes.

  His lit gaze traveled from her head to her shoes as he replaced his cell phone in its clip. “Whatever you let me.”

  “You’re insane.” She rolled her eyes. “So what did the officer say? Will Jack be apprehended?”

  “As long as the troopers are alerted in time, should be no problem. We may be rid of Johnson sooner than we thought.”

  “But as a cop he’ll know how to maneuver around police procedure. He’ll come up with some sort of alibi. He’s a compulsive liar, capable of telling anyone anything. He can come across so upright and genuine you’d think he spent his days helping little old ladies and finding lost dogs.”

  Blake dropped his gaze. He scowled, grumbled something. It sounded suspiciously like and helping himself to other guys’ girlfriends , but she couldn’t be sure.

  Still, the reference to Layla being Blake’s girlfriend, his first verbal claim to her in over a year, sent her blood singing through her veins. A bubble of hope rose in her chest, nudged her heart.

  A relaxed expression eased over his features. “That’s enough about him. This is the perfect place to take our minds off the situation while we wait for the cops to do their job.”

  “It is?” Layla shielded her eyes and squinted to the end of the row of cars where Blake had parked. A hand-painted sign read Payne County Fair , admission price five dollars. Confusion drew her eyebrows together. “What are we doing here?”

  “Taking a detour.”

  “Can we afford a long break? If Jack is held up, we can sneak past and put some distance between us and him. We’ll be stuck in construction backup for hours yet. And Robby…”

  “We’re making decent time, Layla. Munson promised to call when he had Jack in custody. We’ll be back on the road within the hour, when there will be less traffic. Besides that, I think we could both use some air, away from exhaust fumes and the stench of tires melting on newly tarred pavement.”

  “I could really use a break.” She bit her lip in contemplation and drew her hair back into a hand-held ponytail, lifting it up off her neck.

  “We can stretch our legs. Maybe hit a ride or two. Come on, live a little.”

  He’d taught her how last night. The first time she’d let loose in ages, and let her focus shift from duty to pleasure. She really should do more of that.

  Would an hour really make any difference in the grand scheme of things? They’d have to stop for lunch at some point. Maybe they could munch hot dogs between rides. She couldn’t recall how long had it had been since she’d ventured to a carnival or county fair. Not since Robby was little. Any adventures centered on him, not herself. Not for her own enjoyment or fun, but for his. Perhaps it was time to change that.

  The scent of fried dough, the musty smell of the hay-sprinkled ground, the sound of balloons popped by darts and tinkling carnival music, the sight of a Farris wheel rising into the sky… It all beckoned.

  “Count me in,” she declared.

  “That’s my girl.”

  His you’re the best grin offered all the encouragement she needed. But what made her lips stretch with a smile was his reference to her being his girl.

  A flare of awareness sparked inside her.

  Electrifying the space between them, the sensation drew her near until she felt his T-shirt sleeve brush her bare shoulder. They walked close together toward the fair entrance.

  From now on, she would try harder to match his adventurous spirit. That way she could prove she was more than what Blake, Jack, Robby, even her mother, had accused her of being: so damn dutiful.

  Everything she did was rooted in responsibility. But being with Blake showed her another possibility—her responsibility to herself. Her life didn’t have to revolve around her brother to the exclusion of her own happiness. She had never truly understood that before now.

  Though her brain searched for logical, rational explanations, she couldn’t deny that around Blake, all the mismatched pieces inside her fell into place. With the realization came a surprising reminder. They’d once been a perfect fit.

  Could he see her in that way again? Because she wanted to match him on levels she hadn’t been aware she’d avoided. Until now.

  Despite the threat of Jack a few miles away, despite her brother still out of touch, and her self-protective fears of moving forward with Blake, she suspected she was walking her first steps on a path she’d been waiting her whole life to take.

  And she’d start by getting comfortable.

  While he made his way to the gate of the fair, she raced back to the motorcycle and rummaged through the bike’s side storage. Fishing out her flip-flops, she slid them on in place of her ankle boots. She wiggled her toes and sighed.

  The flip flops made a cheerful sound as she returned to his side. If she wasn’t careful, she’d get attached to this spur-of-the-moment adventure stuff. And Blake.

  She trotted up to Blake, where he was in the process of paying their admission fee. “Hey, this place is great,” she said, stepping inside the fencing, overwhelmed by her options. “I’m glad we stopped here. Oh my gosh, look!” She pointed across the way. “My brother and I used to love that game.”

  As they approached, the gamesman, who looked like Shaggy from Scooby Doo , twisted a plastic bag. Two goldfish darted inside. He handed them to a little boy whose grin revealed two missing front teeth. A bittersweet tug plucked at her heartstrings. That’s how Robby had looked in second grade, the star during that year’s Christmas pageant when his class sang, “All I Want for Christmas is My Two Front Teeth.”

  The look on her face must have revealed her thoughts. She felt Blake’s hands come from behind and squeeze her shoulders.

  “We’ll find Robby, won’t we? I wish I knew for sure he’s okay.”

  “It won’t be long now,” he murmured, massaging the tension away. His strong hands eased from her. He bent down, dusting some straw away from the base of a post, and picked up the small white ball hiding there. “Give it a shot, for old time’s sake.”

  Taking the ping-pong ball from him, she scanned the three tiers of miniature water-filled fishbowls before eyeing the barrel filled with wiggling prizes. “I was never ver
y good. Robby’s fish lived forever, while mine always died the next day. Besides, what would we do with a fish on a bike?”

  “Give it to some kid if you win.”

  She shrugged, stepped up, aimed and released. It ricocheted…bounced…dribbled on the edge of one bowl. Her hopes soared. Then the ball bounced one last time. And smacked the gamesman on the back of his shaggy head. He whipped around.

  Blake grabbed her hand and dragged her away before the guy identified the ping-pong culprits. “Sorry, baby.” Blake barely suppressed his grin. “No dead fish for you.”

  “I told you I wasn’t good,” she grumbled, her cheeks heating with embarrassment. “Did you see that guy turn around like he was ready to commit murder? Better lay low. If he finds us, we might ‘sleep with the fish.’”

  “He’s a carnival guy, not some Mafioso. I think we’ll be all right,” Blake drawled. “Enough about fish. Let’s try out a ride.”

  Blake stood in line for tickets while she stood in line for the tilt-a-whirl. He came up beside her and handed her the required number for the ride. She stared at the half-moon-shaped cars spinning like crazy.

  It had been a while since she rode anything like this. It made her dizzy just watching, and she was about to get on this ride? Especially after her brief dizzy spell on the motorcycle.

  She swallowed. “Blake, I don’t think I—”

  “That car, with those two kids,” the ride attendant said.

  Layla grimly suspected she was entering the half-shell of hell. They slid in beside two blond boys and her breath jolted from her when the protective bar rammed into place. She wedged herself against Blake’s side to avoid the blue paint peeling away from the metal in spots. She clenched her hands around the bar and sat forward to keep from singeing her shoulder blades on the sun-scalded metal sphere.

  Blake looked at the two boys. “You guys want to do some spinning?”

  Their eyes went wide with boyish glee. So Blake wrapped his hands around the wheel at the center and gave it three hearty yanks. Layla swore she would never walk straight again. The kids squealed with delight as the ride lurched to a start.

  When she closed her eyes, the spinning worsened. So she opened her eyes, then her mouth and screamed as loud as the boys.

  Suddenly, everything got much better.

  Centrifugal force squished the four of them together at one end. She tried to free her elbow from Blake’s ribs, but he didn’t seem to notice. He was grinning, lost in the simple pleasure of making children laugh. At every turn, he reminded her to live in the moment, something he’d always been so good at.

  I adore you , she thought, gazing up at him, free in the joy of this instant. I absolutely adore you .

  Giving the wheel another yank to carry their momentum, his bright glance flicked to the boys, then to her. That’s when the smile slid off his face.

  Layla knew what he saw, what she’d revealed in her gaze.

  Their eyes locked. An unexpected feeling gripped her in an unbreakable hold. The ride jerked and slowed in its final route. Their momentum spun out. The bar lifted, the boys waved and left. Layla remained glued to the spot.

  Stronger than what she’d felt with him at the playground, this deeper, more profound intensity left Layla feeling as if she’d stumbled upon a mirage in the desert. A promise lingered in his eyes, reflecting a fantasy she’d cast off as a false attraction, only to discover it truly existed.

  The urge to feel his lips against hers overwhelmed her. She wanted him to quench this thirst that had never left. To refill her dark well of hope, empty for so long.

  Without leaning forward, he angled his head, giving her perfect access to his mouth. Her pulse throbbed through her veins, the drumbeat of desire. I want you, Blake. So much I don’t think I’ll ever get my fill of you. You tempt me…don’t tempt me…

  Her body responded. It always did, always would. A pull she couldn’t fight. She wanted to take a chance, a risk, put it all on the line. Just once.

  She wanted Blake, leaned toward him, tilted her chin up and—

  “Out, you two.” The surly attendant ripped them from their silent interlude. “No piggy-backing. Get in line and wait like everybody else.”

  Blake turned and glared. “Do you mind? Can’t you see we’re having a moment?”

  The attendant kicked them off anyway.

  They wandered through the main drag of the fair, past gamesmen who shouted at them to try their luck. Workers waved stuffed animals hoping to entice them into a game of guessing age or weight. The sun hung a little lower in the sky, casting slight shadows that seemed to cool the air and cut through the hot blaze.

  As they walked side by side, Layla caved in to the urge to steal a sidelong glance at Blake. When her gaze shifted toward him, she caught his eye right before he whipped his head to face front. As if she hadn’t seen him looking at her. She eyed him suspiciously, but looked forward again.

  Then she felt the pull of his stare. She looked over at him, and once again he snapped his head up and stared straight. This time his mouth quirked.

  She rolled her eyes. “You are such a goof.”

  “I was going for smooth and casual. Guess I’m better at blunt and obvious.”

  “You can be smooth when you want to be.”

  “Are you telling me I lay it on thick?”

  “No. You’re too honest to give false flattery. I’m saying you have this way of being irresistible sometimes.”

  He rubbed his jaw. “Irresistible, huh?”

  “Rumor has it.”

  “You don’t remember from personal experience?” The glum note in his voice made her lips twitch.

  “Maybe.” Her grin widened. “I might need a reminder.”

  “Careful. I’m a guy who loves a challenge.”

  She arched a brow. “I’m counting on it.”

  He let out a low whistle. “Way to throw that gauntlet.”

  “One of us has to.”

  “I guess it’s about time one of us did.” He smiled down at her softly.

  The sun brightened the glint in his green eyes, gilding his long, dark lashes. The look told her that he planned to take up her challenge. And that on no uncertain terms he intended to win.

  This time she just might let him.

  Following the smell of deep-fried grease that called to their stomachs, they traveled along together, moving as one. His fingertips glided down the back of her arm, barely-there touches that scattered delight across her nerve endings.

  As they milled through the crowds, he cupped her elbow and guided her around mothers pushing baby strollers, dads with toddlers perched on their shoulders, packs of boys running through the fray, wild, dirt-streaked and free-roaming as wolves. Teens were there with their crushes, looking longingly at one another, making bumbling passes at handholding or feeding each other blue and pink wisps of cotton candy.

  Blake made his own pass. It was far from bumbling. Intimate, sensual, his broad, callused palm coasted against hers. His fingers gently stroked and threaded hers. Searching touches that made her fingertips tingle, her abdomen stretch with desire.

  She opened her hand to his attention. His fingers splayed before they wrapped around her hand completely. She felt surrounded by his strength and protection, most of all the assurance in his light but firm hold.

  Pure acceptance wrapped in the familiar pleasure of a lover’s touch.

  Incredible.

  Her heart squeezed inside her chest. She squeezed his hand.

  “Lunch is my treat this time,” she insisted.

  “Thanks for the gesture. Bring me a snowball from hell, and I’ll consider letting you pay. Aside from that, my answer will be an eternal no.”

  “French fries?” she offered. He shook his head. “Just one elephant ear,” she persisted. He wouldn’t budge. “Not even a measly hot dog?”

  “Save your breath, beautiful. I will never be swayed.”

  Despite her frustration over his stubborn streak, her heart
expanded at the endearment. “Tell you what,” she said, forming a plan. “If I guess your weight within five pounds, I get to buy. If I’m wrong, you pay like usual.”

  His lips flattened to a tight line of consideration. Then he nodded. “Deal.” He folded his arms and widened his stance, a pose that said, Go ahead, make my day .

  “Anyone ever tell you, you’d make a great Dirty Harry?”

  “Yeah, I get that all the time.” He rolled his eyes.

  Scanning him up and down, Layla tapped her chin. “Let’s see here.” Tracking a leisurely circle around Blake, she ogled him shamelessly.

  His hands shifted to his waist. “Stop staring at me like that.”

  “Like what?” Her gaze moved over him with measured slowness, stopping at all the erotically pertinent spots.

  “I’m more than just a piece of meat, you know.”

  She heaved a sigh. “Darn.”

  He straightened. “Excuse me?”

  With a shrug and a grin, she admitted, “What can I say? I’ll take a cheap thrill wherever I can find it.”

  “Great. Not only am I reduced to the status of bath toy, now I’m cheap to boot. You really know how to flatter a guy.”

  “Cheap and easy, that’s how I like my men,” she said breezily.

  “I can do cheap and easy.”

  “You don’t say?”

  “We all have to make sacrifices. For you, anything.”

  Batting her eyelashes at him, she said suggestively, “I had no idea you could be so accommodating.”

  “Try me and find out.” He gave her a sexy, come-and-get-me look that made her want to haul him over to the picture booth and make out behind the curtain.

  “Okay,” she said. “I put you at 210 pounds worth of prime bath toy potential.”

  “You’re off by five, and you can have me anywhere you want.”

  “And I get to buy you lunch at a carnival. Yep, you’re right. Cheap and easy. I guess we’re meant to be.”

  “I’ve always thought so,” he murmured.