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I don't need to go near her to get to the barrel, but I do anyway, my body centimeters from hers. "Step aside, sweetheart," I say in my most condescending tone. "Let me show you how it's done."
She glares at me, her jaw dropping, and I have to fight not to laugh. Riling her up is the best part about this entire day.
"I hope you enjoy losing," she says. "Because you're going to lose, um…" She stomps her foot and points at me. "You're going down."
I look up and down her body, my blood heating. "Any time, any place."
Even better than making her angry, is watching her cheeks go pink and her tongue dart out to wet her lips.
I want this woman. So much it's beyond all reason and common sense.
Before I grab her and drag her behind the small barn, I step up to the barrel, wait for the signal, and dunk my head into the cold water. Honestly, this isn't remotely sanitary.
I try not to think about all the germs and bacteria and potentially deadly amoeba that might swim up my nasal passages, and swish my head around to feel for an apple.
I don't open my eyes because I'm wearing contacts. Every time I find an apple, I knock it out of reach with my head. I'm running out of air. I'm going to lose hard to Dani.
Lifting my head from the water, I gasp for air.
"Forty seconds," Keating calls.
Damn it. I've lost.
Dani smirks at me from the other side of the barrel, where she's standing close enough to watch me fail in hi-def.
Screw it. Keeping my eyes open, I shove my head back under the water and look around, but my vision has definitely changed. And it's not being underwater that's making the difference.
My stomach bottoms out. I lost a contact. I'm sure of it.
Lost contact or not, I will not lose.
I gaze around, spot an apple, and pop up, apple in my mouth. Yep, the world is slightly blurry. I definitely lost a contact.
"Forty-seven seconds," Keating says.
I spit out the apple. "I lost a contact in there."
The crowd groans.
"It's okay," Keating says. "First team to find the contact gets ten bonus points."
The spectators groan louder.
"I'm sorry," I say. "I took a risk to win and it didn't pay off."
"That's the competitive spirit," Annette yells.
"Not when we have to pause the games," someone else yells.
"Fine," Keating says. I haven't seen his smile slip once all day, and that doesn't change, even now, with a crowd of his family yelling at him. "One delegate from each team stays here to search for the contact and earn the bonus points. The rest of the players move onto the next game. We'll come back to diving for apples once the medical device has been removed from the large barrel of water."
"It's fine," I say, finally able to get a word in. "It's a daily wear lens. I just need a few minutes to get my glasses out of my truck and I'll be good to go."
"Nobody wants to inhale a contact lens, Ranger." Keating has been calling me Ranger all day, no matter how many times I tell him to call me Grant. It irritates me to a stupid degree. Ranger is Dani's name for me. "Besides, I want to see who's going to do the impossible and find that lens. It's next level for the Sullivan, Herndon, Weston, Oakley games. History in the making, I'm telling you."
The other teams argue about whom to leave at the apple barrel, while I sheepishly approach my team. "Sorry about this, guys."
"No worries," Cody says. "We'll carry on without you."
