I like it. And liking it makes me uncomfortable, so I take a step backwards, instinctively, as though I’m standing too close to the fire. Which I totally am.
“I’d love to help you with your carnival,” he says with a sultry voice I might pay for on some other plane of existence. His eyebrow lifts, challenging me to call him a liar.
I can’t even if I want to. All I have is a tiny, squeaky, barely audible, “What?”
“But first you have ask – nicely.” And there’s that easy smile again. Only this time, he looks like he’s going to whisk me off to his bedroom – where I am totally, one hundred percent not interested in visiting.
“I . . .” I pause to correct myself. “ We don’t need any help with the carnival,” I try. “Meg was just being nice.” I turn to her. “Meg, tell him. We don’t need help.”
There, I came up with something. Cracked voice and all. But before my “friend” can agree with me, not that she was going to, Carter steps in again.
“I beg to differ, Iris.” He crosses his arms. “I think you need major help with your carnival.”
He won’t stop staring at me and I can’t stop staring at him.
Are we still talking about carnivals here? “I . . .”
Why. Can’t. I. Speak?
“You can help me with my carnival.” Meg breaks the incredibly loud silence that’s fallen between us.
Carter’s eyes are fixed on mine for another moment before he lets out a short laugh through his nose. Then he bends down to start working again. Just like that.
“Well, you know where I live.”
It’s like I’m not even standing there anymore. Like I’m one of his boards, leaning up against the part of the fence that isn’t damaged, waiting for him to need me. Why does that bother me? I refuse to let it bother me, or at least I refuse to let him know it bothers me. I turn and stalk off to go take care of something else that needs my attention today. Something must need my attention, today.
“Iris.”
I dart from one path to another, looking for someone who looks as lost, and frustrated, and angry as I am right now.
“Iris,” Meg calls out, louder this time.
I stop and wait for her to catch up. I fix my hair and bite my lip. I know what she’s going to say.
“What the hell was that all about?”
“What?” I shake my head and shrug my shoulders like it’s no big deal that Carter Blackwood basically informed me he’d love to “fix” my “carnival” and all I have to do is ask.
“What?” she says. “Seriously?”
“Meg, I don’t know, I just,” I close my eyes and fist my hands. “He makes me crazy.”
“He makes you horny, you mean.”
My eyes fly open and I glare at my neighbor. “I swear to God.”
She holds her hands up, innocently. “Hey, none of my business, I’m just saying, you haven’t um, you know, in quite a while and I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you, you knowing with the hunky handy man.”
I can’t believe she’s just said this. My divorce is a little over a year old and she wants me to what? Bang my neighbor? My very temporary neighbor? No. I’ve had enough temporary for one lifetime, thank you very much.
“I’m not listening to this.” I try to storm off but Meg being Meg, she’s not about to let that happen.
“Hey.”
She pulls at my arm to stop me and I let her. But I can’t look at her. I’m still too flustered. Or maybe embarrassed.
“Seriously,” her voice softens, “there’s nothing wrong with a little banter, Iris. No harm, no foul. Just enjoy it.”
I nod and avoid eye contact. Before she lets me go, she hugs me tight.
“Maybe he’s a present from the gods,” she tries to joke.
I’m not in the mood. “I’ll be over at the concession area, measuring it out.” I walk away.
“I’ll meet ya there later,” she calls out after me.
I’m glad she’s not coming with me. I need to be away from innuendo and friends who encourage it for a while.
* * *
“I think this is
“I’d love to help you with your carnival,” he says with a sultry voice I might pay for on some other plane of existence. His eyebrow lifts, challenging me to call him a liar.
I can’t even if I want to. All I have is a tiny, squeaky, barely audible, “What?”
“But first you have ask – nicely.” And there’s that easy smile again. Only this time, he looks like he’s going to whisk me off to his bedroom – where I am totally, one hundred percent not interested in visiting.
“I . . .” I pause to correct myself. “ We don’t need any help with the carnival,” I try. “Meg was just being nice.” I turn to her. “Meg, tell him. We don’t need help.”
There, I came up with something. Cracked voice and all. But before my “friend” can agree with me, not that she was going to, Carter steps in again.
“I beg to differ, Iris.” He crosses his arms. “I think you need major help with your carnival.”
He won’t stop staring at me and I can’t stop staring at him.
Are we still talking about carnivals here? “I . . .”
Why. Can’t. I. Speak?
“You can help me with my carnival.” Meg breaks the incredibly loud silence that’s fallen between us.
Carter’s eyes are fixed on mine for another moment before he lets out a short laugh through his nose. Then he bends down to start working again. Just like that.
“Well, you know where I live.”
It’s like I’m not even standing there anymore. Like I’m one of his boards, leaning up against the part of the fence that isn’t damaged, waiting for him to need me. Why does that bother me? I refuse to let it bother me, or at least I refuse to let him know it bothers me. I turn and stalk off to go take care of something else that needs my attention today. Something must need my attention, today.
“Iris.”
I dart from one path to another, looking for someone who looks as lost, and frustrated, and angry as I am right now.
“Iris,” Meg calls out, louder this time.
I stop and wait for her to catch up. I fix my hair and bite my lip. I know what she’s going to say.
“What the hell was that all about?”
“What?” I shake my head and shrug my shoulders like it’s no big deal that Carter Blackwood basically informed me he’d love to “fix” my “carnival” and all I have to do is ask.
“What?” she says. “Seriously?”
“Meg, I don’t know, I just,” I close my eyes and fist my hands. “He makes me crazy.”
“He makes you horny, you mean.”
My eyes fly open and I glare at my neighbor. “I swear to God.”
She holds her hands up, innocently. “Hey, none of my business, I’m just saying, you haven’t um, you know, in quite a while and I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you, you knowing with the hunky handy man.”
I can’t believe she’s just said this. My divorce is a little over a year old and she wants me to what? Bang my neighbor? My very temporary neighbor? No. I’ve had enough temporary for one lifetime, thank you very much.
“I’m not listening to this.” I try to storm off but Meg being Meg, she’s not about to let that happen.
“Hey.”
She pulls at my arm to stop me and I let her. But I can’t look at her. I’m still too flustered. Or maybe embarrassed.
“Seriously,” her voice softens, “there’s nothing wrong with a little banter, Iris. No harm, no foul. Just enjoy it.”
I nod and avoid eye contact. Before she lets me go, she hugs me tight.
“Maybe he’s a present from the gods,” she tries to joke.
I’m not in the mood. “I’ll be over at the concession area, measuring it out.” I walk away.
“I’ll meet ya there later,” she calls out after me.
I’m glad she’s not coming with me. I need to be away from innuendo and friends who encourage it for a while.
* * *
“I think this is
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