lives in the line of duty to attend the Davenports’ summer camp.
Okay, that’s bold. “What’s going on at booth seventeen?”
“Pay your money and find out, bro. Throw down a C note for starters, but honestly, I expect you’ll be back for more.”
“It’s a setup.”
“Oh, yeah. You’ve been dealing with these women longer than any of the rest of us and you just figured that out? But it’s a setup for charity.”
He glanced over his shoulder at the booth behind him, number 12. He peered down the street but couldn’t see 17. “Okay. You win.”
“No. The winner would be you, my friend. If you’re smart enough to see it.”
Zach took his tickets—all two of them—and continued down Spruce, vaguely aware that a grin tugged at his mouth, and totally aware that he’d picked up an entourage. Booth 16 displayed a Heavenscents sign. Mandy West stood at the entrance offering samples of lavender-scented lotion, and TJ sat on a stool beside a gray metal cash box. Savannah wasn’t in the Heavenscents booth.
She manned booth 17.
He took one look at her and gawked. His gaze took in the booth, read the sign, and he gaped. Savannah sat on a stool wearing a formfitting scoop-necked black-and-white-striped top and matching short shorts.
She sat inside what appeared to be a … well … a jail cell. Above her hung a bucket. To the side of the cell, a six-by-eight-foot banner had a target at the center. Words above the target proclaimed, I AM A PRISONER OF MY OWN INSECURITIES, DOOMED TO A LIFE OF LONELINESS UNLESS SHERIFF TURNER CHOOSES TO ACCEPT THE KEY I OFFER AND SETS ME FREE.
A strangled sound emerged from Zach’s throat. He’d seen a variation of this game before, most often used as a fund-raiser for schools. Usually a school official—the principal or a popular coach—sat beneath a pail of water. Kids bought tickets to throw a ball at a target that when hit dumped the water onto the principal. Kids loved it.
Zach was having trouble tracking. “What is this?”
“My grand romantic gesture.”
This was a grand romantic gesture? “Jack took Cat hang gliding above a field of yellow roses that wrote out words.”
She pursed her lips in a petulant pout. “So I heard. I’m not a bazillionaire.”
His lips twitched. “I took you to Silver Eden Lodge.”
“Yeah, well. Circumstances are different.”
TJ sidled up. “Do you have a ticket, Sheriff Turner?”
Zach held up the two peach-colored stubs. TJ took one of them and handed him two yellow tennis balls. He held one in his left hand, tossed the second up and down with his right.
“I’m a little dense this morning. Why this?”
“Well, of everything we thought of, this seemed like the best idea.”
His stare trailed over the setup. He couldn’t believe she actually brought a prison cell into this nonsense. “That doesn’t answer my question. Why this water game?”
“The dunking pool was too expensive to rent.”
“And the goal here is for me to … dump water on you?”
“Cold water. We added ice. We thought you’d like that.”
The woman was bat-crap crazy. “Why?”
“Because I hurt you and made you angry and I’m so very, very sorry and you deserve retribution.”
“Retribution.”
“We thought it needed to be public.”
He still didn’t get it. “What are you trying to prove here, Savannah?”
“That I trust you. That I love you. That you can trust me.”
Sometimes a woman’s mind was simply too foreign to understand. What was his job here today? “So you trust me not to dump ice water on your head?”
“Oh no. You need to do that. That’s the retribution I’m offering here in public, in front of our friends and neighbors and strangers. I’m making a very public statement that I have been a total idiot. I recognize that a basic human desire in an incident such as this is one of payback. But at your heart, you are the nicest guy I’ve ever known. You’re too nice to pay me back the way I deserve.”
“Yeah,” he sneered. “After all, I’m a nun with a penis.”
Savannah winced. “I’m sorry about that.”
Cam Murphy said, “Whoa. Hold on.” He handed Zach another ticket. “My treat, man.”
“So dousing you with ice water is supposed to satisfy my need for retribution for your cruel words and offensive actions?”
“It’s supposed to be a start. We hope once you’ve drenched me a few times, the ice will be broken, so to speak, and you’ll be more willing to listen to the serious, completely heartfelt apology I want to give to you. In private.”