open. “What happened to being a gentleman?” The sugared donuts are placed on the counter in a paper bag. I scoop them up and follow the man who won’t give me the bear that looks like Superman.
“I never claimed to be a gentleman,” he says haughtily.
“I want the bear.”
“You got candy floss.”
I pout like a petulant child. “It’s not the same.”
His smile comes back and it almost blinds me. “You can have the bear.” I reach for it but again he snatches it back. “When you’ve finished your food.”
“Want some?” I wave the floss near his face. He shudders and shakes his head. “More for me.” Then I hold the bag open that contains the donuts. “Donut?”
The look that flashes over his eyes shows me that he does want the donuts, but I’m guessing they’re too messy for him to want to hold. Suddenly I see him in a whole new light. How frustrating it must be to not want anything on your hands, the two things you use most throughout the day.
“Take this for a second.” I hold the candyfloss out to him. He holds the stick with the tips of his fingers, shuddering once more. My fingers grip the sugary snack and pull it from the bag. “Here.”
“You’re touching it,” he says with a small shake of his head.
Sigh. “I haven’t touched that side.” I move it close to his face. “Come on. You know you want to.”
He leans forward and wraps his teeth and lips around one side, sighing slightly. “I forgot how good they were.”
“More?” I bite into the one he’s already broken into and groan in delight. “Best donuts ever.”
“More,” he says, so I hold the same one up to his mouth. He bites the half of the broken ring that I haven’t bitten. “Definitely the best donuts ever.”
I click my tongue and shake my head. “Wait until you try mine.”
“You make donuts?”
“Sure, it’s actually really easy,” I say but my attention immediately becomes distracted. “Oooh, look!”
“It’s a ring toss.”
“I’m aware of what it is, Sherlock. Come on.”
“I hate ring toss.”
“That’s because you suck at it.”
He pretends to be insulted. “I do not.” Determination comes across his features. “I guarantee I’ll beat you.”
“You couldn’t beat a rug.”
“Why would I want to?”
Good point. “Ring toss.”
“Dispose of the cloud of sugar.” He holds the pink candyfloss out to me. I take it, have another bite and throw the rest into a nearby rubbish bin. “Donut.”
“I’m not throwing away the donuts,” I gasp in feigned horror that he could even think about doing that. Donuts are the king food of carnivals. Well, it’s either donuts or hotdogs.
“No.” He taps his mouth.
“Oh.” I pick another from the bag and hold it to his mouth. He takes a bite, his eyes on mine.
“Thanks.”
“No problem.” I close the bag after giving him two more bites and popping the last piece into my mouth. He cringes so I give him a pointed look. “What?”
“My mouth has touched that, yet you still eat it.”
I shrug and tuck the bag of donuts into my jacket pocket. “Do you have some kind of horrific virus I might contract?”
“No.” He pulls a face to show how genuinely disgusted he is at the thought.
“Then I’m sure I’ll survive. Now stop delaying the inevitable and watch me kick your arse at ring toss.”
He lets out a snort that makes me snort and to the ring toss we go.
******
“I had the disadvantage,” I grumble, glaring at the ground as I walk.
“Oh yeah? What’s that?” Nathan smiles, looking far too proud of himself.
“The belly.” I pat my swollen stomach. “I can’t swing my hips during the toss like I used to.”
“Excuses.”
My mouth drops open. I refuse to take that. “It is a legitimate excuse.”
“In your world I believe it is.” He slides his hand down my arm, his hand stopping to circle my wrist. That’s strange. Not uncomfortable, but definitely strange. Is this his version of holding hands? Or is his arm aching from the ring toss, meaning he can’t be bothered to hold onto my bicep? “Ferris Wheel?”
“Will I be allowed?”
He shrugs. “Only one way to find out.”
We stand in the queue for fifteen minutes before we make it to the front. The guy looks at me, looks at my belly and opens the chain to let me through. Yay.
We sit in the not too sturdy looking metal seat and click the bar in place. I laugh when Nathan wipes at it with a napkin after squirting the metal