AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“What is it?” I asked, side-stepping in a little jig.
She reached for my face, and too late, I realized what she was doing.
The weasel made a low whistling sound as Miso shoved it into the neckhole of my costume.
Pokey claws scraped across my neck and down my back.
I shrieked as the weasel grabbed onto my shirt and skittered down around my waist. Its fur rubbed between my shirt and shorts exactly on my most ticklish spot, and I barked a laugh, twisted, and slammed into a solid mass.
The weasel relented its assault, settling its claws into the fabric covering my hip. It clung to me like a living fanny pack.
I realized that the something I’d slammed into wasn’t a somethingat all. It was someone.
He caught my elbow and easily guided me back into an upright position. Standing there, on my own two feet, I felt anything but stable. But his hand lingered on my elbow, as if sensing I needed the support.
I followed the lines of his arm up from where he was still touching me—his skin to my fuzzy faux fur. His forearm was sinewy and tan, like he spent a lot of time outside working with his hands. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows—because apparently he’s a masochist wearing a dress shirt in this heat, almost as much as I was in my furry pajamas. His biceps strained the upper sleeves of his shirt and led to a set of broad shoulders.
I flicked my attention to his face, to his mismatched set of eyes—one brown, one green. And at first I wasn’t sure if I had imagined the difference. I blinked, and they were still the same, still staring at me with intelligence and concern.
His brows were thick and drawn down, the hard lines of his face sculpted in marble. His brown sugar hair swept back from his face and curled behind his ears. It matched the stubble on his jaw, which offered a hint of a rebelliousness beneath an otherwise polished exterior.
His beauty made me woozy. Or maybe that was just heatstroke.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
He wasn’t giving me the look he should have, not with me smashing into him wearing a bunny costume while screaming like a banshee. He didn’t look at me like I’d lost my mind at all. Instead, his sharp eyes peered right past all of that to see straight into my soul.
That was crazier than the spectacle I’d just put on. I pushed away the thought. “I’m so sorry for smashing into you. Thanks for the save.”
I gestured to my elbow, where he was still touching me.
He blinked, like he hadn’t realized he was still holding on. Then he let go. His hands fell gently to his sides.
“You’re welcome,” he said.
Sparkles sizzled in the air between us—tiny fireworks playing in the summer heat. I didn’t dare breathe. If I did, I might break the fragile spell.
“Interesting get-up,” he said, seemingly unaffected.
Was I imagining the sparks? I must have been. This was merely a one-sided swoon-fest, better ignored than indulged.
“This old thing?” I smiled.
“Reminds me of the movieA Christmas Story,”he said. “The kid—”
“Ralphie, yes! That’s exactly right. I made this costume for a play version of the story. These are even my Ralphie glasses.” I adjusted the frames on my face.
“Do you always wear your pajamas to the carnival?”
“Everyone should,” I said.
A dimple formed on his cheek, a hint of a smile on a face that seemed unaccustomed to the gesture.
“I thought you said you were the Easter Bunny?” a soft voice said from between us.
I looked down, momentarily having almost completely forgotten Miso was there. I couldn’t believe I’d allowed myself to get so distracted.
Before I could respond, Miso said, “My mom’s here. Gotta go.”
