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“What are you talking about?” Annie wiped her hands along the sides of her pretty blue sundress and looked at me.
I shook my head. “There’s no way in hell I’m going through the remix.”
Her eyes went wide. “Shit.”
Yep. As I’d suspected, she’d forgotten about that. If at any time dates were unhappy with their matches, the matchmakers would take it upon themselves to rematch people.
From across the field, Annie glanced at Stumpy Larson, who was attempting to close the distance between him and Sylvie King. Apparently that man had a death wish, because he was completely oblivious to the King brothers and their hawk eyes watching over their sister.
“Let’s just get through this and have a little fun.” I looked down and winked at Annie as she visibly gulped.
Together we wound through the growing crowd to the area where the gala dates were meeting. As we approached, Royal King and his date came into view, and I nearly choked.
Annie also stopped short. “Lee, why is Royal King dressed in lederhosen made for a child?”
A laugh tumbled out of me, and I resisted the urge to grab her hand and squeeze. Sure as shit, Royal was wearing lederhosen that were in a tug-of-war, challenging the limits of their snug dimensions. The trouser legs, barely extending beyond his balls, exposed his tree trunk thighs, covered in tattoos. Below were a pair of knee-high socks adorned with whimsical patterns.
He even wore the fucking hat.
I cleared my throat and leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Hemayhave gotten a package, signed from the Bluebirds, saying couples received preference points for wearing the provided costume.”
Her eyes went wide as she shook her head, sending wafts of her shampoo swirling around me. To me, Annie always smelled like apples, sea salt, and sunshine. “Where do you even come up with this?”
I pressed a hand to my chest. “I swear, it wasn’t even my idea!” Duke required payback for the stunt they’d pulled off with his suit, and my sister had bought the lederhosen on Amazon.
Annie gestured toward Royal with his booming laughter and smug smile. “I hate to break it to you, but I think he’s enjoying this.”
Sure enough, Royal’s snug attire had drawn the attention of a gaggle of women, and he was reveling in it.
Damn it.
Undeterred, I could always find another way to get the Kings. Looking at the gathering of tourists and people from my hometown, I breathed in the fresh air mixed with the scent of soft-baked pretzels. Crowds gave me energy. Allowed me to beonand appear happy.
To hide.
But most importantly, it was the perfect excuse tofinallytouch her.
At my side, my hand found hers and gripped tightly. I tipped my face toward hers. My eyes flicked down to her lips, and the undeniable ache for her rattled through my bones.
My voice dropped, barely above a whisper, to give her fair warning. “Ready or not, Annette.”
FOURTEEN
ANNIE
I was,in fact, very muchnotready.
The Outtatowner Tulip Festival was a casual affair, an opportunity for matches to ease into their series of dates with each other. There was, however, a very large, and very ridiculous, dry-erase board. On it, each couple’s names were printed, like some kind of scoreboard.
In big, blocky letters,Lee and Anniestared back at me from the top of the list. Little hearts beside the couples’ names indicated additional donations or special gifts that were purchased by town sponsors.
Through the crowd, I saw Emma talking with Aunt Tootie beneath the ridiculous scoreboard, as Tootie drew a bright-red heart next to our names. Emma caught my eye and shot me a smile and thumbs-up. I rolled my eyes but smiled and waved back at my friend.
I scanned the crowd, my eyes picking out each of the other auction couples in various states of comfort, giddiness, and unease. Royal was still reveling in his comedic glory, doing lunges in his tight lederhosen while several of the old biddies in town swooned and clapped for him.
Sylvie and Stumpy walked with at least three feet between them. Sylvie took a step away for every step Stumpy moved toward her. They also had JP King as a very obvious shadow.
Huck had his fiancée, Cass, hiked up on his back, piggyback style, as she laughed and proudly held a salted pretzel above her head like an Olympic torch.
