Page 46 of Flirty Dancing

Archer spent most of the ride making soothing noises at Caleb, but there was a moment at the top where Caleb stilled, eyes screwed shut as he clutched the edge of the car. Archer took a slow breath looking around at the green rolling hills and flashes of blue water around tiny Hallfield. Mateo took a deep, contented breath at the same time.

“It’s pretty,” Mateo said. His knee bumped Archer’s.

“Yeah,” Archer agreed.

Then Caleb let out another squeak and Archer went back to soothing.

It was definitely the longest Ferris wheel ride Archer had ever been on. When they were finally done, Caleb staggered out of their seat and down the stairs, face green.

“You did it!” Archer informed him. “Look at that!”

Caleb clutched his chest. “Never. Again.”

“Definitely never again,” Archer agreed.

“Excuse me, gentlemen.” A Black woman with a tight black bun and a frilly apron approached, clipboard in hand. “My name is Agnes, and I’m running the pie baking contest today. I was wondering if you three would be interested in judging for us?”

Caleb shook his head, face pinched as he pointed at himself. “Gluten-free.”

“Hmm, not you, then.” She turned to Archer and Mateo. “How about you two?”

Archer was awfully hungry, but… “How many pies do we have to eat, exactly?”

“You’ll each be given a slice of six different pies, but you don’t have to eat the whole thing. Just enough to rate them. Hallfield is famous for its pies, and I guarantee they will all be delicious.”

Archer looked at Mateo while Caleb went to collapse onto a bench. “I am hungry… I’m game if you are?”

Mateo nodded. “Let’s do it.”

“Wonderful!” Agnes beamed. “Follow me!”

“Are you coming, Caleb?” Archer called over to the slumped figure on the bench.

He offered a meek wave. “Go on without me. I’m going to go find some booze.”

“There was a pub back where we parked,” Mateo told him.

Caleb flung his arm over his eyes, nodding. “Thanks. I’ll head there in a minute.”

Agnes led them to the center pavilion. A long table covered in red-checked tablecloths and dozens of absolutely delectable-looking pies was set up in front of a low stage.

“Oh, damn,” Archer said. “These look so good!”

Agnes was pleased. “They will be! Now come on up here to the judges’ table.”

They climbed the few steps to the stage where they joined two women and another man already seated. “You can sit here,” Agnes said, pointing to the open chairs at the end. “And we’ll begin shortly!”

“Hope you really like pie,” Archer said, as they watched an aproned swarm descend on the table below and begin piling thick slices onto labeled paper plates.

“I do, actually,” Mateo said. “My mom was a baker. She used to make the most delicious key lime pie.”

“Oh, yeah? I love key lime. I think my favorite is blueberry, though.”

“Well, you’re in luck,” Mateo said, as a huge slice of blueberry and a scoresheet was placed in front of each of them. “Let’s dig in.”

“Oh my God, I’m so full,” Archer said, half laughing, half groaning, leaning back in his chair. “But that was amazing.”

“Sooo amazing,” Mateo agreed, patting his stomach. “And so, so full. I’m not sure I needed to finish off every bite of that last key lime.”

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