CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

LIAM

As much as I wanted to get Hazel straight into my bed and forget all about the fucked up world outside of it, I was slowly realizing she was more than just a hook up to me. She was worth getting to know and deserved to be treated to a second date. 

This time I had to see how she reacted to some friendly competition. 

The spring carnival was one of Cloverville's biggest community events, although still small on the grand scale of things. It lasted for a week and had just a few, basic rides, carnival games and shows.

When I first moved here I always had to work patrol during the carnival but never actually attended, not that I had anyone to go with. As Hazel and I walked through the carnival stalls, I actually looked forward to the cheesy cliche of winning some ridiculous stuffed animal for her. 

It was a warm spring day and she wore a pair of shorts that left little to the imagination. I nearly turned us right back around so I could bury my face between those creamy thighs without waiting any longer. 

Her warm smile and sweet kiss upon greeting me did nothing to soften my hard, unyielding ache for her. 

"I grew up coming to this carnival," she said, interlacing her fingers with mine. "My brother and I would hide in the Ferris wheel when it was time to go home and nearly gave my parents heart attacks. Old Mr. Jensen even let us play the horseshoe toss for free."

"Is that your specialty?" I asked, my knuckles brushing against her bare thigh as we walked. "Horseshoes and hide and seek?"

"One of many," she replied with a wink. 

Goddamn, we would not be lasting long out here. 

"Let's see your famous horseshoe toss then," I said as we approached the stall, unable to resist giving her a light tap on her ass as we did. "Then I'll show you my specialty." 

"Oooh, what could that be?" she asked saucily as she arched under my touch and gathered her horseshoes. 

"You'll see." 

For not playing any carnival games since she left town, she did pretty well at horseshoes. I played sports all throughout high school and had a pretty accurate throw but I still didn't have to go easy on her. She scored a couple of ringers and almost beat me before I squeaked out a win in the end. 

"Beginner's luck," she pouted her full lips teasingly. "And I'm rusty." 

"Yeah, yeah, sore loser." I slid my palms across her waist to the curve in her lower back. "What's my prize?"

She wrapped her arms around my neck and gave me a full, open-mouthed kiss in reply. Her tongue flicked across mine as the full length of her body melted against me. 

Just as I closed my eyes to drink her in and relish in her taste, she broke away with a teasing smile. 

"I think the loser needs some deep-fried Oreos to feel better." She pulled me in the direction of the food stalls. 

"Did you say deep-fried... The fuck?" 

She looked at me aghast. "Have you never had a deep-fried Oreo?" 

"Uh, no?" 

"Deep-fried Twinkies? Cheesecake? Ice cream?" 

"No to all of the above. Sounds like a cardiac arrest waiting to happen."

"Well, obviously if you ate it all the time. But that's the beauty of carnival food! You gotta indulge when it's only here once a year." 

It was probably the most sugar and oil I consumed all year in a single sitting but I had to admit that deep-fried Oreo was damn good.

When we stepped up to the shooting gallery where I originally planned to impress her, I briefly wondered if my sugar high would throw off my aim. 

All that disappeared though once I held the BB gun and took aim at the cardboard ducks passing from left to right. 

Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop. 

"Holy shit!" Hazel exclaimed. 

Bullseyes on every one. Nothing made me more calm, focused, and in control than a gun in my hands. 

"Well done, sir!" said the booth attendant. "Get ready for round two!" 

Two rows of ducks this time, moving in opposite directions. I knew this was a carnival game but come on. 

Pop-pop. Pop-pop. Pop-pop. Pop-pop. Pop-pop. 

All perfect shots. Truth be told, any police academy rookie worth his salt could make them.

"Didn't know I'd be in for such a gun show." Hazel slid her delicate hands across my flexed, taut bicep which made her hands look smaller. The look she gave made me even harder. 

"Final round!" 

I decided to give myself more of a challenge for this round. 

As I squeezed off the shots I kept looking straight at Hazel, into those brilliant orbs of green on her beautiful face. The ducks only existed in my peripheral vision. 

For my final shots, I let go of the gun with one hand to wrap it around her waist. I pulled her tightly against me and pressed a hard kiss to her mouth. 

She returned it eagerly, crashing her tongue against mine as I blindly fired off my last shots. I set the gun down to wrap my other hand into her soft, cascading hair. 

Somewhere off in the distance, I heard someone talking, probably the booth attendant yelling at me to take my prize, the giant stuffed duck, but I had my prize. She was wrapped up in my arms and the world seemed to fade away outside of our embrace. 

Nothing else mattered outside of this moment, this protective shield of heat and desire I built around her. 

Time slipped away until we finally came up for air. The sky was getting darker and the booth worker seemed to give up on trying to talk to us. Carnival lights glowed all around us as more people came to try the shooting game. 

"Did you want your giant duck plushie?" I asked, murmuring the question against Hazel's soft lips. 

"No," she replied, her lips trembling slightly against mine. "All I want is you."