Page 81 of Past Tents

My shift started at noon and I got to the carnival at exactly noon. I didn’t want to chance running into anyone who might want to get into a long conversation about Clay and our failed relationship.

The gossip mill had already taken on a life of its own and there were so many versions of the story about Clay’s supposed bet and the new Green Valley Spinster moniker I’d probably never shake. I’d gone to the school board and filed a formal complaint against Pindich, but he always managed to charm someone into letting him skate through his troubles.

So I’d left my house with exactly twelve minutes to spare, knowing I could make the drive, park, and find my way to my booth without having time to chat with anyone. So far, so good.

It shouldn’t have made me so nervous to stand in a kissing booth. After all, I knew most of the folks in the Parent-Teacher Association. They were the main people who’d show up at a school fundraiser, right?

Nevertheless, I spent a little extra time getting dressed, curling my hair, and putting on makeup, notably a lip stain thatwouldn’t be kissed off. Then I thought about Clay and wondered if he’d even show up at the carnival for the second shift in the kissing booth. Probably not, especially not if he was worried about a confrontation with me.

We all got a short lunch break during each shift, and I’d planned to take mine sometime close to two, after a couple hours of kissing. Seemed like I might need some hydration by then, or at least some sustenance.

But when I saw Principal Pin Dick’s soggy form making a beeline toward my corner of the carnival, I quickly put the Closed for Lunch placard out in an obvious place where he could see it from thirty feet away.

Exhaling a grateful breath, I wondered if I could make my break last long enough to avoid the principal completely, or if he’d somehow manage to find me.

“Closed for lunch, eh?” The deep baritone set my heart on a collision course with my chest. My face heated and I broke out in a nervous sweat, and that was all before I looked up into Clay’s beautiful face, which then sent goose bumps racing across my skin and a plunge of heat from my chest to my core.

“Yes. We get an hour.” Why did I tell him that? He didn’t care about the rules and regulations of the carnival. Besides, his kissing booth shift started after mine.

So why was he here early? Why was he here now, when I could do nothing to escape? Whatever this was, whatever he wanted to say to me, I had to listen to it here in public. And then get kissed by a hundred strangers.

People were starting to watch us, and the good school teacher in me knew I needed to put a pin in our conversation until afterthe carnival. But those lips, that hard jaw dusted with a few days’ worth of scruff, and those lazy hazel eyes begged me to stay right where I was.

He held up a fistful of tickets, all hot pink. All for my booth.

“You want to kiss me here?” I couldn’t help asking.

I was all for spending the rest of the weekend in Clay’s bedroom, but the current situation with its array of noisy game booths, petting zoo smells, and most of Green Valley High’s student body didn’t spark the romance I wanted.

He nodded, all of his normal swagger back in action. He wore dark jeans that hugged his hips, and I knew without him turning around what kind of treatment they’d give his perfectly formed ass. I felt a little torn. I did want him to turn around for my own gawking pleasure, but I also wanted him to stay.

If he’d come here to talk to me—or to kiss me—I wanted to hear what he had to say.

He tore off one ticket and held it up. “So what’s the deal? What does one ticket entitle me to?”

Was this how we were going to function now? Him mocking my participation in a school carnival by trying to make me uncomfortable?

Fine. If he wanted to play this game, I’d play.

“Yes, it entitles you to one kiss. One very quick kiss.”

“What if I want more?”

I rolled my eyes. “Then you can get back in line behind everyone else and take another turn.”

He shook his head. “There won’t be anyone else. I bought all the tickets.”

Now I was confused.

“Wait,what?”

He pulled a wad of pink tickets from his back pocket. There were easily a hundred hot-pink tickets, all marked for the kissing booth. He moved closer and cupped my jaw with one hand. He didn’t lean in right away, instead letting himself gaze at me with a look of such adoration that my stomach dropped and my heart squeezed inside my chest. To say nothing about the deep pink invading my cheeks.

Nothing had changed one bit in the way I reacted to him. But something was different in the way he was staring at me now. Possessive. Feral. Hungry.

Shoving the wad of hot-pink paper toward the ticket box, Clay took a step back and nodded at me to deposit them.

“Clay, what are you doing?”

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