Page 11 of Take the Bait

“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.

4

“What happened?” Tucker asked.

“I—well—I—” Hanna stuttered, then removed her hands from her face.

Penises, big and small, were painted all over her cheeks and forehead. His jaw dropped.

“One of the fifth grade boys asked to paint my face. I should’ve known. I was just trying to be nice.”

She sounded so defeated.

He fucking hated it.

Tucker turned around and grabbed a roll of paper towels and a spare water bottle. Wordlessly, he ripped off a paper towel and wet it.

“May I?” He asked.

She nodded, her eyes watering.

He grabbed her chin with a thumb and forefinger, tilting her face toward him. He methodically began wiping off the paint off her face.

“This is so fucking embarrassing,” she whispered, a tear falling down her cheek. “Great, and now I’m crying.”

He pinched his lips together, frustrated on her behalf. “It’s alright, shortcake. We’ve all been there.”

“We all unwittingly get penises drawn on our face at our place of work?” She deadpanned.

He sighed. “We all have embarrassing moments, is what I meant.”

“And yet, I’m the one who’s mortified every time I see you. I can’t catch a fucking break. The universe hates me. I’m paying for something I did in a past life.”

Tucker chuckled. “How about we even the playing field a bit?”

“What, let me draw penises on your face?” She asked with a huff, crossing her arms. “No, thanks.”

He laughed. “Actually, I was thinking I could tell you some embarrassing stories of my own.”

She was silent.

“I have some good ones. Some I promised myself I’d never tell anyone.”

“I’m listening.”

He grinned. He’d sacrifice his own self-esteem to make her feel better any day of the week.

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