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“You’re talking get to know each other as in not biblically know each other, right?” she clarified.
He chuckled. “Make no mistake, my ultimate goal is to physically ‘know you’ again. But for the moment, I am talking get to know each other as in not biblically.”
She wanted to say yes, but knew she’d be toying with dynamite. “I’m not sure.”
“It’s obvious you’re attracted to me,” he pointed out.
“Okay, fine, you’re an attractive man and I’m not blind.” If not for Joss, would she even be hesitating?
“You’re saying any attractive man would do?”
“That’s not what I’m saying.”
“Then that makes me special?”
More so than he knew.
His look of triumph made her nervous. “Are you fishing for compliments, Trace? Because, if so, you grabbed the wrong woman from the medical tent. Dr. Gianakos would be more than happy to be your fluffer.”
At her comment, he grinned and shook his head. “I got the right girl and want her complimenting me. Come on, no more serious talk. Let’s go have fun for a few minutes then we’ll get back to work.”
“Okay.” This time she met his hand halfway when he reached for hers and tried not to overanalyze how amazing it felt to simply hold his hand.
* * *
Chrissie had never seen such a huge area of bubbles before.
Agnes had set up a special non-slip floor and then had machines create mountains of bubbles. Currently, hundreds, maybe thousands, of children and adults alike danced and played in the bubbles to the directions of the emcee in a bubble-a-thon fund-raiser.
“Put your right hand in. Put your right hand out,” he instructed.
“You have extra clothes?”
Her head jerked toward Trace. “What?”
“Did you bring extra clothes?” he repeated, taking off his tennis shoes and raising her feet one at a time to do the same to hers.
“I’m a prepared kind of girl, but stop that,” she demanded, attempting to pull her foot free and instead just helping him accomplish his goal. “I’m not going into—”
But he wasn’t listening. He’d tugged her to the outskirts of the bubble floor and she was mid-chest-high in bubbles.
“Oh, my,” she exclaimed, unable to resist lifting a handful of the foamy white stuff to her mouth and blowing it.
Joss would love this, she couldn’t help but think.
“Put your left hand in. Put your left hand out,” the emcee continued.
She wiggled her toes, letting the bubbles tickle her feet and bare legs beneath her shorts. A giggle escaped. A happy giggle. Oh, my. She didn’t want to feel happy.
Chrissie frowned. What was she thinking? Of course, she wanted to feel happy. Besides, when was she going to have the opportunity to play in bubbles with hundreds of other people ever again?
Probably never.
This was fun. She was allowed to have fun.
“If we’re going to do this, we’re going to do it right,” she informed Trace, holding her left hand out and shaking it.
“That was the plan.” His grin was lethal and gave her more giddiness than the bubbles.
