Oh my. If she could see what her heart looked like right now, she imagined it would be aglow, throbbing in her chest. “You went through all this trouble because I said I wanted a snowball fight?” She gazed at the brown straw that was piled everywhere, overwhelmed.
Engineering a hay fight was one of the weirdest and nicest things anyone had ever done for her.
“It wasn’t trouble. I had to call my brother to ask if he had a lot of hay.”
A phone call wasn’t too bad.
“He’s running low. So I had to find out where to get the hay, go to the big house, get a truck, go pick up the hay, and then . . . do that like three more times to have enough hay. Not that big of a deal.”
“Right, that sounds like not a big deal at all.”
He didn’t seem to pick up on her dry humor, because he shrugged. “Nope.”
She leaned over and touched the hay in the bale closest to her. It was scratchy and dry, and would be hell on her delicate skin.
The idea of this was so sweet and also something she had no interest in doing. “Um, Jas—” She yelped when something wet hit her shoulder and exploded. Outraged and confused, she whipped her head around to glare at him.
His delighted grin took her breath away. He tossed a bright red water balloon in his hand, and that was when she noticed the pail at his feet. The pail filled with more water balloons. “Unfortunately, after I paid for all that hay and got it all here, I realized no one actually wants hay thrown at them. And there’s this thing called farmer’s lung?”
She wrung out the chunk of her hair that had gotten wet. “Sounds like something we don’t want to contract.”
“Right. So I figured it would have to be a water fight. Water is closer to snow, anyway.”
She crossed her arms over her chest, her outrage turning to amusement. “This isn’t fair! I don’t have any ammunition.”
“I’d never water fight an unarmed woman.” He nodded at a hay bale. “Right behind there.”
She darted around the bale and crouched down, finding her full pail right where he’d indicated. She grabbed a balloon, poked her head over her hay barricade, then retreated when a water balloon sailed at her head. “What are you going to do with all this hay now that it’s useless?” As quietly as possible, she lifted two water balloons, one in each hand, and waited for him to speak.
“Hay is never useless. My brother and grandpa will be confused and delighted by my gift to the farm.”
Using his voice as her guide, she launched to her feet and fired two balloons rapid-fire. Her brain processed every action in slow motion—the windup, the release, the trajectory of the balloons as they launched through the air, landing and bursting against his face and chest.
A helpless giggle escaped her at his disgruntled expression. He wiped the water out of his eyes. “You’ll pay for that.”
“I’d like to see you try.” She squealed and ducked when he tossed a balloon at her. They darted around and behind the hay and the air filled with their laughter and curses. Most of her shots missed. A good number of his landed. “Unfair, you’re a trained soldier and guard. You have better hand-eye coordination,” she puffed from behind cover.
“All’s fair.”
In love.
She reached into her pail and made a sound of dismay when she discovered she only had two balloons left.
She said a quick prayer and launched to her feet, hands full, and ran away from the makeshift obstacle course.
A balloon hit the back of her leg, and she sped up.
“Why are you zigzagging?” he called out as he chased her, and the asshole didn’t sound out of breath at all.
“That’s how you get away from bears.” Another wet hit on her arm. How did he still have so many?
“I think that’s a myth about alligators, and I’m neither of those things.” The laughter in his voice was evident. Something smacked the ground at her feet, and she sped up. “Quit running. Stand your ground.”
“Retreat is the better part of valor,” she managed, though she was huffing and puffing. It was warm today, and she was actually sweating a little despite her damp clothes.
She ran right into the copse of trees, darting around the big trunks. She finally stopped when she couldn’t hear his footsteps behind her any longer. She tried to control her breathing, and then carefully peered around.
She narrowed her gaze at the undisturbed, silent clearing. No way would Jas lose her. “I know you’re out there,” she yelled.
Her phone vibrated in her pocket. She almost ignored it but she did hate to ignore phone calls when they could be for work or one of her friends.
It was one of her friends, but one who was pretty local.
I’m at 3 o’clock. Don’t be startled.
There went her heart, all aglow.
She turned to face Jas. He leaned against a tree, his hair glossy from the remnants of one of her hits. He spread his empty hands in front of him. “You wouldn’t hurt an unarmed man?”
She tossed a balloon in the air and caught it. “Nice try. Use camouflage balloons next time, I see the one you stuck in the branch above your head.”
His lips formed a smile, and he reached up and grabbed the water balloon. “Good eye.”
She threw one of her balloons to the ground and it burst. The water was harmless, but later, she’d come out and pick up all the balloon remnants. Though knowing Jas, he’d probably already considered the environmental impact of their little game here and had a cleanup plan in place. “Truce?”
He nodded solemnly and sacrificed his single balloon to the grass.
She lifted her other arm, considered him for a second, then let her second balloon fly, laughing when it smacked him in the stomach.
“We said truce!”
She laughed harder at his outraged expression. “You were the one who told me to use whatever tools I had at my disposal, remember?”
His eyes narrowed. “Oh right.” He took deliberate steps toward her and she eyed him with suspicion. “What are you doing?”
He walked faster, bridging the short distance between them. “Using my tools.”
She squeaked in amusement and feigned trepidation and tried to dart away, but he was so much faster than she was. He caught her by the waist and kissed her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and took a step back. In her mind, they would effortlessly make love against the tree, with her legs wrapped around his waist and absolutely no splinters in her bare ass.
In reality, she tripped on a root.
He tightened his grip on her when she stumbled, but that somehow threw his balance off-kilter, and the momentum toppled them both to the ground. He twisted at the last minute so he took the brunt of the fall. He grunted when she landed on top of him like a graceless sack of potatoes.
His shirt was damp and cold, and his hair was messier than before, with pieces of hay stuck in it. So bedraggled, so sexy. She scrambled up. “Are you okay? Your knee?”
“Yes.” He stroked her back. “You?”
“I’m fine.”
“Good.” His fingers played over her sides rapidly.
She stacked her hands on top of his chest and rested her chin on them. “What are you doing?”
He frowned. “Using my tools.”