Somewhere between the clowns and local citizens on horseback, Greg and Cindy inched their way over to where Chloe and Kyle were watching.
Chloe struck up a conversation with Cindy with no trouble at all. That left Kyle and Greg standing beside them, silent, staring in different directions.
When the last horse and clown had passed, spectators spilled into the street. Someone on a loud speaker announced sack races in half an hour.
“Cindy and I can out-jump a pseudo cowboy and a Houston secretary any day of the week,” Greg said casually.
“Is that right?” Kyle took off his hat and ran one arm across his forehead. “That sounds like a challenge to me.”
“Where are you going to find that Houston secretary? I’m a photographer from Ouray, remember?”
Cindy had a fit over that revelation. “A photographer! I love taking pictures, but they always come out lopsided or too light—even with a camera that’s supposed to set everything automatically.”
“I’ll be glad to give you some pointers.” Chloe knew she and Cindy would be good friends. Greg didn’t seem the least bit interested in hearing them talk about photography. His plan had backfired, leaving a black scowl on his face.
Greg grabbed Cindy’s hand and dragged her off toward the sack races. “Come on, woman. Time to hit the sack.”
Cindy turned back to Kyle. “Not one word to Darrin, or—“
“Or what? You’ll jump up on a stump and punch me in the knee?”
She wagged one finger at him as they strolled down the street.
Chloe pulled Kyle down for a brief kiss. “Have we bored you with all this ‘girl talk,’ truck driver?”
“Nope. I could listen to you talk all day long and never be bored, no matter what subject. Well, there might be one or two, but almost any subject.” He might get bored in a hurry, if she decided to talk about “the good old days” when she and Greg were in love. No need to make that point, though. “Shall we show them how sack racing is done?”
“Absolutely. I’ll have you know I came in tenth out of eleven in a sack race when I was eight.”
Lined up, each couple shared a huge burlap sack. Cindy looked from Greg to Kyle and back to Greg. “I think this is going to be a close race,” she said solemnly.
“And why is that?” Greg’s arm tightened around her.
“He’s been trucking while you’ve been nursing a desk, so you’re about equal when it comes to exercise. Chloe’s been sitting at a desk or in front of a computer while I’ve been minding the store. Pretty even, from where I’m standing.”
“You mean on my left foot?”
“Oops! Sorry about that.”
“Don’t listen to her, Reynolds,” Kyle called. “I have an edge on you she doesn’t know about. You two will have to give it everything you’ve got to beat us.”
“I have no idea what ‘edge’ you’re talking about, but I think it might be best not to speculate about who’s going to win this contest.”
Chloe tried not to laugh, watching Kyle shifting his feet, trying to get a better purchase on the tiny space his big feet had to fit into.
“Although when it comes to the pie eating contest, I may have to make a prediction of my own.” Chloe winked at Cindy.
“Kyle has that one in the bag—so to speak,” Cindy said confidently.
“What makes you think so?” Greg stuck out his chin defensively. “I’ve been known to put away more than my share of dessert at Thanksgiving and Christmas. Today is no different, except there won’t be turkey and dressing to spoil my appetite before the pie.”
“We’ll see.”
“Don’t place your bets yet, folks.” Kyle wagged one finger at their opponents. “It’s been a while since the fish salesman has had time for sports and workouts. His capacity is undoubtedly limited.”
Chloe couldn’t believe the faked camaraderie between these two men, who’d declared war on each other the night before. The anger she’d seen and heard last night seemed to have evaporated with the thin clouds of the morning, and in its place had appeared good old-fashioned competition with a touch of fun. Underneath the surface, though, she shuddered to think what was stewing. Greg’s willingness to participate had shown her a long forgotten side of his personality. But, his motives cast another light entirely on his act. And, she had no doubts it was an act. No matter. She was determined to enjoy the day.
Cindy brightened suddenly. “I know! To give the guys incentive to perform above and beyond the call of duty, I declare a kiss from the ladies for the winner of each contest. Except, I’m not kissing Kyle on the mouth, since kissing your brother is a lot like kissing a codfish.”
Kyle nodded emphatically. “I’ll second the motion. No offense, Cindy, but sucker-mouth catfish comes to mind when I think about kissing you.”
“I’ll get you before the day is over, you … you bass, you!”
“Bass?” Chloe glanced at Kyle for an explanation.
“Big-mouth fish. That did it. We’re gonna win this one, darlin’. If you feel yourself about to fall, just grab on tight and pick up your feet. I’ll hop for both of us.”
Greg and Cindy, their arms tight around each other, eyed Kyle and Chloe like racehorses in the chute. When the gun went off, Kyle and Chloe bounded off the line while Greg and Cindy went down in a heap before taking a single step. Chloe laughed until tears rolled down her cheeks as they raced for the finish line.
Greg and Cindy weren’t about to give up. Regaining their stance, they took off hopping after all the other couples, most of whom had passed the halfway mark. Kyle and Chloe finished second. Greg and Cindy came in next to last. Byrdie and her friends clapped and cheered, dabbing their eyes with hankies to catch happy tears.
Greg, red in the face from the exertion, couldn’t help laughing when Cindy hugged him for his “gallant effort in the face of defeat,” since he hadn’t earned a kiss.
“Hopping has never been my best thing,” he mumbled, watching Chloe give Kyle a quick kiss for winning the event.
Cindy elbowed Greg. “Sack racing is for sissies. Real men are champions at spitting.”
Chapter 14
“This one is Greg’s, bar none,” Cindy said, rocking back on her heels, thumbs in the belt loops of her jeans.
Greg licked his lips, getting ready. “I’m almost afraid to ask why you think so.” He cast a smile at Chloe.
She smiled back at him with pure mischief. “It will be interesting to see which one of you has the best pucker.”
“The best pucker, huh?” Kyle snorted. “I’ll have you know I can pucker better than anyone.” He pursed his lips. “Especially when it comes to watermelon seeds. I’ve been a cham-peen seed spitter since the tender age of six. Just ask Cindy if you don’t believe it.”
“It’s no lie. He’s been an A-number-one spitter as long as I’ve known him.” Cindy wiped happy tears from her eyes. “A fish mouth like that has a real advantage when it comes to spitting.”
“May the best pucker win!” Chloe’s sides ached with laughter.
The contest was a riot! The gyrations each contestant went through before spitting the seed had the crowd in stitches. Chloe grouped them according to style.
First, there were the “pooh spitters,” who made a loud “pooh” sound when they spit the seed. Next came the tobacco spitters, who sounded like a cowboy spitting a stream of tobacco juice into a spittoon. Finally, there were the percolators. Kyle proved to be one of those. When he spit the seed, it sounded just like an old coffee pot on the stove, about to boil over.
Kyle had spit the seed farther than any of the other pooh or tobacco spitters, and was behind only one of the other percolators when Greg got up to take his turn.
Chloe and Cindy, laughing so hard they could hardly see for the tears, cheered him on. The expression on Greg’s face was so comical, so utterly silly that he didn’t even have to spit, as far as Chloe was concerned. His antics should have won him first place—along with first place for go
od sportsmanship, an award she never would’ve have nominated him for before today.
Greg declared, “I will not be outdone again!” Working his mouth in circles, he positioned the seed exactly in the center of his tongue then eased it forward toward his teeth.
He miscalculated. The seed turned sideways, dribbled out on his chin and stuck there like an unsightly wart.
“Mis-spit!” Kyle yelled above the laughter of the crowd.
“But I wasn’t ready! I get a second chance!”
“Sorry, only one spit to a contestant,” the judge told him, wiping tears from his eyes.
Greg walked dejectedly over to where Cindy stood, trying to catch her breath.
Chloe hooted and howled along with Kyle.
“Bad luck, Greg.” Kyle gathered Chloe into his arms again and took his time kissing her.
With her head whirling and her knees feeling rubbery, Chloe tried to recover quickly from the kiss. Greg appeared angry. Feeling sorry for him, she nudged Cindy. “I think he deserves a kiss for bravery in the heat of battle, and for being such a good loser, don’t you agree?”
“I do, indeed.” Cindy didn’t give Greg a choice about the kiss.
When she finally turned loose of him, Greg had a look on his face that reminded Chloe of a puppy who’d gotten his nose stuck in the vacuum cleaner!
“Hmmm,” Greg said. “Losing isn’t all that bad. You’re coming with me to the barn dance tonight, aren’t you, sweetheart?”
“I wouldn’t miss it.” When she winked this time, he winked back.
Chloe interrupted by tapping both of them on the shoulder. “The next contest is liable to be a draw, since both these guys are experts.”
“What’s next?” Cindy used the edge of her T-shirt to dry her eyes.
“It’s the Cow Patty Toss.”
Greg and Kyle stared at each other like gunslingers faced off in the streets of Dodge. “We’re going to have to skip this one,” Kyle said seriously, “or prove them right. What do you think, salesman?”
Greg scratched his chin and nodded. “We have to do it. You know what they say. If you’ve got it, flaunt it.”
Kyle shook his head. “I don’t know about that. I’m such a quiet, reserved person. I never go in for flaunting when I’m clearly superior.”
Chloe twirled one of the buttons on the front of his shirt in her fingers. “Don’t tell me you’re going to give up that easily.”
Kyle looked into her eyes with such love it was all she could do not to cry.
“Never,” Kyle said quietly. “I’ll never give up when the prize is a kiss from my lady fair.” He turned to Greg. “Give it your best shot, salesman!”
“You’re on, truck driver.” Greg pulled Cindy against him, and kissed her again—then glanced to see Chloe’s reaction. When there wasn’t one—other than a continuation of her smile—Greg frowned for an instant before pasting his smile back in place.
Kyle couldn’t believe the lengths Greg was going to in order to snag Chloe’s attention. He could tell by her expression during the contests that she’d never seen such silliness from him before. If jealousy didn’t work, this new ploy of Greg to laugh at himself might have the desired effect on Chloe, playing on her need for tenderness and fun, rather than on anger and jealousy. From what she’d hinted about why she’d left him, the absence of laughter and silliness were a big part of that decision.
As starved as Chloe was for affection, Kyle feared the ploy might just work. He hoped she would see through the façade to the truth.
When they lined up for the Cow Patty Toss, Chloe knew it didn’t matter who won this time. Both of them would get a kiss, and she was betting Greg wouldn’t mind one bit, judging from his pleasure at accepting the prize from Cindy after the spitting contest.
Part of her wanted to cheer, having come far enough to be able to watch Greg kiss another woman without wanting to cry. Yet she also wondered how Greg could participate in such antics if he truly loved her. The mushy look in Kyle’s eyes left little doubt about his feelings for her. And it was always there, no matter what they were doing—something as silly as sack racing, or just sitting by the fire, enjoying a comfortable silence at the end of the day. Consistency. Something she’d never known before, other than the consistency of loneliness and the futility of trying to be perfect.
Kyle had never claimed to be perfect, nor did he strive for perfection. Most important, he didn’t require or expect it of her. Cindy had said an hour with Kyle revealed all you needed to know about him. But that could never be true of anyone. There had to be secrets, even if they weren’t seen often. So what were Kyle’s secrets?
People cleared away from the throwing field so no one would be hit by a stray chip, and the starting whistle blared.
Greg was up fourth. He gave it all he had, and the chip landed farther than the three tossers before him.
Kyle was next. Spitting in his hands first, “to get a good grip,” he hauled off and slung the chip with all his strength. It landed just behind Greg’s and bounced forward, covering the back edge. Greg had won by six smelly inches.
Greg picked Cindy up and spun her around, finding her mouth before her feet touched the ground again. Taking full advantage of the situation, he didn’t let her go until she pushed back, laughing.
“Come up for air! I don’t know who taught you to kiss, sugar, but she gets an A+ and a barrel of apples. Mercy, son, but you’ve got great tonsils.”
“And that’s not all,” Greg said smugly.
Kyle stuck out his bottom lip. “Don’t I get a kiss for being a good sport, like he did?”
Chloe obliged, to his pleasure, trying to gauge her feelings about the growing relationship between Greg and Cindy.
“What’s next?” Chloe tried to read the banner with the contests and times listed, but couldn’t make out the writing underneath the Toss.
“Pie Eating is this afternoon, right after lunch, so the contestants won’t be tempted to eat before the contest, and so they won’t waste away to nothing without lunch, which I’m always in danger of doing.” Kyle stood on tiptoes, trying to see above the crowd. “Has anyone seen Byrdie? We promised to help her carry the pies.”
“She’s in the middle of a bunch of other ladies who’ve probably been baking all morning, too.” Cindy gave Greg a quick hug. “I’ll be right back, sugar. Don’t you run off now. I have big plans for us that won’t work at all if you disappear.”
“I wouldn’t think of it.” He watched her go then eased over next to Chloe to whisper in her ear. “Just say the word, and I’ll tell Cindy to take a hike.”
No doubt about his motives now. Chloe felt almost ill. Instead of replying, she hooked Kyle’s arm and led him toward the Nest.
Kyle spoke quietly. “What was that all about?”
“Nothing important. Do you think there’s any chance Cindy is falling for Greg?”
“Nope. She’s much too smart for that, and Greg doesn’t hold a candle to Darrin anyway.”
“I just don’t want him to hurt her with this little game he’s playing.”
Kyle studied her for a moment. “Having problems fending off the green-eyed monster?”
“Not in the least. I don’t believe in monsters. He just offered to dump Cindy if I said the word.”
Anger simmered in Kyle’s gut, hearing that. “I wasn’t going to say anything to Cindy, but I may have to.”
“If she’s as smart as you say she is, it won’t be necessary. But, I promise I won’t let Greg put her heart in harm’s way.”
<><><>
Back at the Nest, Byrdie puffed a little from hurrying back from town. “The Pie Eating won’t be until one o’clock. Anyone hungry?”
“I’m saving room for the pie,” Kyle said.
Greg and Cindy came in. “Same here, Byrdie.” Greg winked at Cindy. “I intend to win that one, too.”
Chloe and Cindy had lunch with ten other guests while Greg and Kyle sat outside—Kyle in the swing, Greg on the
steps—stomachs growling at the wonderful smells wandering through Byrdie’s house and out the screen door.
“We’d better have that contest soon or I’m liable to start eating the porch,” Kyle said, breaking the silence between them.
“I’ll start on the porch railings. You can have the swing.” Greg plucked a blade of sweet grass from beside the steps and stuck it in his mouth, glancing up and down the street at people wandering from one place to another, stopping at one of the hot dog stands decked out with red, white and blue streamers, or sightseeing at the shops offering sidewalk sales.
“Ouray’s a nice little town.” Greg shifted his position after a particularly loud rumble from his stomach.
“The best.”
I can see why Chloe likes it here.”
“It isn’t one bit like Houston. That’s why she likes it.” Kyle stood and stretched his back muscles, then sat back down in the swing, resisting the temptation to forget about the contest and hit Byrdie’s kitchen like a vacuum cleaner. A couple came out of the house, laughing and talking, on their way back to town.
Greg, leaning against a porch support, eyed Kyle for a moment. “You were a stockbroker?”
“Yep. Five years in the pressure cooker.”
“Ever been married?”
“Got close once. I finally got tired of her wanting me to work all the time. She was a lawyer and had all the ambition, while I just wanted to go fishing. You would’ve liked her.”
“Thanks. That’s when you hit the road.”
“In another six months she expected to make partner. Every time I beat my quota, it became my new quota for the next quarter. There would never be any slowing down. I couldn’t take it anymore. When I told Sherry I wanted to quit brokering, it was over. She headed for a bigger law firm and a lawyer with as much drive as she had, and I headed out of town in an 18-wheeler.”
Greg picked up a small rock and threw it toward the street, but didn’t say anything.
Kyle knew it was a mistake to say anything at all to Greg about Chloe. The smart thing would be to let the differences between them continue to grow. But, somehow, Kyle felt the need to make sure Greg knew what he was losing, so he’d be sorry for making her unhappy.
Kiss Me, Chloe Page 13