Page 53 of A Love Like Candle Light

"Oh, you're on.” There’s a wall of potential prizes. From water guns to yo-yo’s to plushies, they have everything a child’s heart could desire. “Which of them am I supposed to win?"

"The light brown bear on the top left." She points at it. It’s fluffy and giant and very her. "That one. It reminds me of Abby with that little round speck around his eye." My heart warms. It's not even one of the top prizes. Honestly, I think we could win it if we hit one of the cans on the little pyramid. However, I've got a reputation to uphold and a woman to impress.

So I pay the teenager from Kinstead for our attempts and take a ball into my hand.

"Okay." I weigh the ball and throw it in the air, catching it to gauge how it flies. "The winner gets what?"

"Bragging rights," she declares, a focused crease appearing between her eyebrows. "The loser has to buy the winner a cider."

"Well, it's game on."

A challenging glimmer lights up in her eyes. I throw my first ball and hit the pyramid dead center. Three of the ten cans fall down.

"Nice," she declares, then throws hers. She hits the bottom row, to the very right, and only one of the cans falls. My next one flies right past the pyramid.

Ultimately, I let her win. It's worth it to see the triumphant smile on her face and get a gentle ribbing.

"I would have destroyed you on the plastic shotguns," I assure her as she's hugging the teddy bear tightly to her chest with one arm, so giddy she’s almost skipping alongside me.

"Oh, you totally would have. That's why I didn't pick them." She laces her fingers with mine and pulls me to the cider booth.

The sun has disappeared, the entire main square cast in the warm glow of the streetlamps and string lights making the trees appear like they're made of gold. Plastic cup with cider in one hand and hers in the other. The day can’t get much more perfect.

"It's about time to find a place for the fireworks," I say and lead her towards the gazebo.

"Aren't they on the exact opposite end of the park, though?" Kylie wonders, but lets me guide her up the few steps.

"They're in the sky," I say very intelligently and hold her cup as she sits down on the top step. "Most gather in the square because it's the place to be, but trust me." I take a seat next to her and hand her cup back. "We’ll have a wonderful view from here."

"Okay." She extends her legs and leans her head on my shoulder. "I trust you." A warm blanket encases my heart, the only reason it doesn’t fly out of my chest, light with joy.

"That means a lot." I lift my arm, and immediately she cuddles into my side. She’s touchy. I love it.

We stay like this for a while. Sipping our cider, enjoying each other’s presence and the crisp autumn air.

"Are we… dating?" she whispers into the silence. I feel her cheek moving against the side of my chest. I want to see her face, the adorable blush she’s sporting right now without a doubt, but I can only see the top of her head.

"We declared today a date, so yeah. I’d say we are.” Her shoulders sag and she lets out a relieved sigh. “Do you want to be dating?"

"I don't know." She lets out a deep sigh and leans her head against my shoulder again. "You? Definitely. In general? Probably not." Her shoulders move with the deep breath she’s taking. "We might barely know each other yet but I really, really like you, Erik."

"I really, really like you too, Kylie." She leans away a little and glances up at me.

"Are you sure?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"I don't know." She sinks into herself. "My mom keeps calling me to tell me I'll go to hell. And sometimes I think having the divorce brand stamped on me, is making me damaged goods."

I turn to her, eyebrows high up my forehead. "What the hell?"

"I'm sorry." I deflate. There she goes again, apologizing for things that aren’t her fault to begin with. I take the cider out of her hand and set both of our cups aside.

"Listen, Kylie,” I wait for her to turn to me. “I've been in relationships too. Having a past doesn't make us damaged goods. Having a past makes us human."

"Yeah, but the difference is you didn't go up in front of their families and say 'I do.'" Her voice dies towards the end of the sentence.

Really? A bunch of people hearing her say two little words is what makes her insecure?