Page 90 of False Start

Kit followed my gaze. “Does that mean Pete’s Snakes and Sundries doesn’t have any actual snakes? Is it just a hokey snake observation tower?”

“Well…” I rubbed my chin. “Not exactly. But let’s start with the tower.”

Right now, all Kit needed to know was that a picture on the top of that tower earned us two points. What she didn’t need to know is we earned the other three by taking a picture with Petey Junior, the world’s biggest python. Allegedly.

I paid for our admission to the observation deck, and we walked up the spiral staircase in silence. The view at the top wasn’t majestic. Marshy wetlands for as far as the eye could see.

Kit looked out over the swamp, and I sidled up beside her, resting my forearms on the banister, my fingers touching the fiberglass red tongue jutting out from the building.

“Pete has too much money,” Kit said.

I bit back a laugh. “Pete has a dream, and apparently it involves sundries and snakes.”

“Well, he’s certainly living that dream, isn’t he?” She leaned next to me, her forearm brushing mine.

“What about your dreams?”

She splayed out her hands, her eyebrow inching up. “Living it.”

“This was your dad’s dream,” I corrected her gently. “What about after the race?”

I waited for Kit to pull away. Waited for her to stand up and go back the way we came. Waited for her to call me Texas and put up that barrier between us.

She sighed. “This might have been my dream, too. I didn’t sign up thinking it was, but I understand why people keep coming back. Maybe I just want to have more adventures.”

I grinned. “I like the sound of that.”

She pinched her lips together, suppressing a smile. “Maybe with better company, though.”

I wrapped my arm around her shoulders. She fit next to me like a puzzle piece. “You’ve had a blast. I’m a great co-driver.”

“You’re a great navigator,” she corrected as she rested her head on my shoulder, and I held my breath, cementing the moment into my memory.

“Keep that in mind when I tell you about the second part of this stop.”

Her head snapped up, stepping out of arms and planting a fist on her hip. “What second part?”

“It’s really not a big deal.” I sidestepped her attempt to swipe the guidebook out of my back pocket. “Just live in the moment, Kitten. You don’t want to ruin this really lovely moment worrying about the future.”

“Please tell me it doesn’t have anything to do with snakes,” she groaned.

“It sure as hell doesn’t have anything to do with sundries.”

We descended the observation tower back to the store below. I held open the door, waiting for Kit to flee, but thankfully she entered willingly.

The sundries portion of Pete’s store was surprisingly well-kept. The floors were linoleum, scrubbed bright white, with bright overhead fluorescent lights. Kit reluctantly perused the bags of jerky, holding up one that had “Snake” emblazoned over the top.

“Is this where the bad snakes go?” Kit whispered.

I took the bag and shoved it under my arm with a laugh. “I’m not sure, but we’re trying some. Right, Kit?”

When she didn’t reply, I turned away from the jerky and followed her gaze over the register to the giant yellow and red sign over the back wall.

SNAKES AHEAD!

“They’re in cages, right?” she asked, tentatively stepping closer to the door.

“Most of the time,” the woman behind the counter chirped.

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