Page 56 of Lost and Found

“All right, pretty lady,” Wes said, turning her around. He kept his hands on her waist, his front pressed to her back, and led her to the ring toss. “Whatever you want.”

For just a moment, her eyelids drifted shut. She leaned back against the hard cut of his muscle. The back of her head rested against him, strong and broad like the sheer face of a mountain. But he was also warm and inviting, and she wished he’d wrap his arms around her and hold her close.

Wes pulled out his wallet and handed over the dollars. She hated their distance and, even more, hated wanting what they were dangerously dancing around. The other man beckoned her to the tossing line, and before she knew it, Bailey held three rings and faced down dozens of bottles.

“All you have to do is get one,” the man said with a knowing smirk that matched Wes’s. Scam, scam, scam.

Bailey tossed the first. It clattered off.

“Not even close,” the man called into his microphone.

Her eyebrow cocked. “Is that supposed to motivate me?”

“Ignore him,” Wes offered, patiently waiting for her to blow through the next two rings so they could move on.

Maybe Wes wanted to be close as they’d just been again. That’s what she wanted.

She tossed the second ring and missed, but not before it spun around the neck of the bottle once, twice, three times before falling off. “How is that possible?”

“Bad aim,” the man cackled into his microphone.

She laughed and looked over her shoulder. Wes smiled with a told-ya-so shrug. Yeah, she wanted to be back against his chest again.

“Try again,” Wes said.

“Nah. You were right.” Bailey kept her eyes on him and tossed the ring over her head. “Scam.”

A bell clanged behind her. Surprise lit up his emerald eyes.

“We have a winner,” crackled over the speaker. “The pretty lady in the pretty dress.”

“No way.” Bailey slowly turned. A ring hung dead center around a bottle. “I did that?” She spun, arms in the air. “I did!”

“Yeah, you did, pretty lady in the pretty dress.” Wes swung her in a circle and set her in front of him again.

The world still spun because his eyes were locked on her, and she couldn’t take a deep enough breath. Kiss me. Kiss me now. Please.

“Claim your prize,” the man’s voice crackled with static.

Wes turned her toward the selection of giant stuffed animals. “What do you want?”

She wanted this. Him. His hands smoothing over her sides, the way he stood close. She should be choosing her prize, but still, she couldn’t quite catch her breath.

His lips brushed against her ear. Her eyes fluttered shut, and she leaned into him.

“I’ll carry it around for you,” he whispered.

He could carry her straight to bed—feedback squalled in the speakers as the man tried to offer her a prize and entice another group to play his game.

With a shaky, shivery study of her options, Bailey chose a Minecraft-shaped goat.

Wes locked it under his arm as they wandered from the ring toss. “What should we call it?”

“I don’t know.”

“How about Oink?”

Bailey glanced up. She knew where the name came from, and her heart tripped. She wasn’t just craving Wes. She was falling for him. “That’s absolutely his name.”