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“Way better than getting fired, right?” he teases, and I roll my eyes.
“Only marginally.” I braid my hair into two pigtails and throw on the hat Dallas gave me to wear. “Do I get points if I get paint on your face?”
“No paint on my face. I have a game on Sunday. What if I can’t see to kick because there’s blue acrylic in my eye? We’d lose, and my career would be over.”
“You’ve missed kicks before, buddy. And that’s what these are for. To protect your pretty eyes.” I grab three pairs of goggles hanging from a rack on the wall and toss two his way. “All bets are off when we go in there. The paint room is a lawless space, and Iwillkick your butt.”
“If you throw paint at my face, Maven, you better be prepared for the consequences.”
“Don’t tempt me with a good time. You’re going down, Lansfield. Right, June? We’re going to get your dad.”
“Yes!” she squeals, and I grin.
Ten minutes later and all geared up, we head into a large room. We’re the only ones here, and from the way the owner keeps thanking Dallas for his generous donation to the business’s nonprofit supporting local art programs, I have a feeling the privacy was prearranged.
“Daddy, look.” June points to a splatter of red on the wall. “It’s messy.”
“Very messy,” Dallas says, and he leads us over to a long table covered in dried paint. “And you know what the best part is? There are no rules.”
“No rules?” she asks. “I can run?”
“You can run wherever you want, JB.”
“Gonna get you, Daddy.” June stands on her toes and grabs a brush off the table. She dips it in the can of pink and swirls it around. Satisfied with how it looks, she pulls it out and flings it at him, giggling when it goes all over the jumpsuit covering his legs. “I did it!”
I pick up a brush and dip it in the green. I bring my wrist back and throw it at Dallas. The color lands on his chest, and I grin. “Got you,Daddy. You look like a watermelon.”
“Christ,” he mumbles. He blows out a breath and finds the largest brush on the table. “Y’all are in for it now.”
“Run, June.” I pick her up and sprint across the room. Her giggles echo in my ear, and soon I’m laughing, too. I feel a twinge of pain in my knee and my heart pounds in my ears, but I keep moving. “We can’t let him get us.”
“Closer,” June squeals.
I duck behind a tall canvas sitting on a wooden easel just as Dallas launches the brush covered in yellow at us. He misses hitting us, but a drop gets on June’s ankle.
“You snooze, you lose, Lansfield,” I say, and we take off toward the other side of the room.
“Damn, Maven, I didn’t realize you were this quick,” he says, and it adds a pep to my step.
June and I reach the table with the paint cans first, and I hand her two brushes. I take three for myself and dip them all in the first colors I can find. We spin around, and Dallas is only feet away.
“Now, JB,” I say, and we attack. Paint from all five brushes hit him at once, and I pump my fist in the air. “Nice job, kid.”
“I got Daddy,” June says, and I give her a high five.
“Colluding with the toddler gives you an unfair advantage,” he says, and he wipes a glob of purple from his cheek. “Put her down, and let’s settle this fairly as adults.”
It’s hot as hell seeing Dallas in his element. It might not be a football field, but his athletic mindset is coming out, and a dominant side of him I’ve never seen before peeks through.
It sends a thrill through me. It makes me want to push him and test him and see how far he’ll go to win. If he’s anything like me—and I think he is—he won’t give up or go down without a fight.
This is going to befun.
THIRTEEN
MAVEN
I givehim a slow grin and set June safely on the floor. “Rules?”
