Page 90 of Hot Shot

And so has he.

The crowd is screaming—the cords of Wilder’s neck straining as he shouts encouragement down the line, passing buckets to Tate at an inhuman pace until their lead spreads. And when the final bucket sends water spilling over the edge of the barrel, the roar rises.

We’re jumping and cheering, and the guys are celebrating by slinging buckets of water onto each other and picking each other up and slapping each other’s backs. Carterville comes in second, then third registers. The rest halfheartedly finish the race, and Roseville files over to the other teams to shake their hands and congratulate them.

Before I know it, Wilder is rushing in our direction, his face alight with joy, smile flashing like the sun. He scoops up Cricket first, and I watch with a pang in my chest, not expecting him to turn that smile on me. His arm slides around my waist and pulls me into him, pressing his lips to mine in one swift motion, and I’m overwhelmed by the safety I find in his grip, the smoky scent of fire, the certainty of his kiss. Because he knows exactly what he wants—he always has.

Me.

I breathe him in like I’m drowning, fall into him, wind my arms around his neck and pull until our bodies are flush. Distantly, I sense him setting Cricket down so he can snake his arms around me. I claim him, marking him with the kiss, my heart panting with relief as the shackles fall. And he knows. When he puts me down, he tips me back to the sound of whooping and cheering.

My hand cups his jaw when our lips finally separate—he’s so close that he blots out the sun. Behind his eyes is victory and surprise and a dash of smugness that draws laughter straight from my heart.

“Did you change your mind?” he asks with a tilted smile, his voice smoky.

“How’d you guess,husband?”

His laugh lights my heart up like a carnival game. “I’m gonna cash in on that the second I get you alone,wife.” With a brief kiss promising just that, he stands me up and returns me to our group.

“Sorry,” he says to them, absolutely not sorry at all. “Had to give my wife a proper hello.”

My skin is on fire and I know I’m red as a cherry, but I can’t help but laugh with the rest of them as he clasps hands with Remy and says goodbye before trotting back to his crew. I watch him, reeling as Cricket takes my hand.

Molly sighs at my elbow and shakes her head. “Damn. You’re a lucky girl, Cass.”

And I’ve never agreed with anything more in my whole entire life.

CHAPTER 34

BABY, I’M A GIVER

WILDER

It’s been a damn good day.

Dusk is slipping away to evening as we stand in front of a carnival booth where I’m a couple of throws away from winning Cricket the gigantic stuffed toy I promised her. She’s watching raptly, hinged over the counter separating me from the ratty clowns lined up on platforms behind the unamused carny, and despite acting weird since the last event, Cass is on the other side smiling. She’s seen this trick before—I must have won her a hundred fire hazards just like it in high school. I wonder absently if she kept them.

Her eyes are smoldering coals and have been since the kiss.

She changed her mind. She changed her fucking mind, and all it took was that kiss and her words to keep me buzzing for hours. We haven’t had a chance to talk about anything, but we’ve been walking around the carnival, unable to keep our hands off each other. This is the longest I’ve gone without touching her, and my fingertips ache from the loss.

I knock over a clown, and Cricket yells, “Good job, Daddy! One more!”

I wink down at her and throw, knocking the last of the bozos off its stand.

Cricket goes nuts, her eyes wild and smile bordering on hysteria. She can’t even talk, she’s giggling so hard, and Cass helps her pick out her prize. Cricket’s exhausted, hence the punchiness I figure, and Paul and Patty look tired in the other direction.

When Cricket has her arms looped around the neon orange poodle and has shown it to all million of us, Patty smooths her hair.

“Well, I think it might be time for us to go.”

Cricket whines. “Why? I’m hungry though! We didn’t ride all the rides! I’m not even tired!”

Paul makes a noise. “I don’t know about that, kiddo.”

I can see a tantrum brewing and squat in front of her. “Heya, bug—it’s getting late, and y’all have an hour in the car to get home.”

“But I’m hungry!”

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